other cars will figure out something is going on as soon as the smoke fills the air in the emperor’s car. We’ll lock, and if possible jam, the doors as soon as we’re inside. That should delay reinforcements.”
Maldynado lifted a finger. “What if the doors are locked right now, and we can’t get in?”
Amaranthe dipped a finger into an ammo pouch on her utility belt and slid a small velvet bag out from amongst the crossbow quarrels. She upturned it, dumping two keys onto her palm, and handed one to Sicarius. “I had Books research the Navigator class train, including a visit to the smith who keyed the locks for this one.”
“See, that’s why we let you lead,” Maldynado said. “Women think of things like that. If it were up to us men to plan these missions, we’d end up having to hack our way in with axes.”
Amaranthe decided not to mention that Sicarius had first pointed out the locked-door possibility. She tugged her mask over her head and adjusted the straps. She slung her crossbow over her back, checked her short sword and knife, then untied the last item she would need from the outside of her rucksack, the kerosene-powered cutting torch. “Once everyone is tied or otherwise unable to give chase, and Sicarius has grabbed the emperor, find me. If there are soldiers trying to get in from both ends of the car, we may have to cut our way out through the roof.”
Sicarius eyed the tool for a moment, and Amaranthe thought he might object to something, but he nodded and said, “Ready.”
They piled the gear they weren’t taking into a corner where they could grab it on the way back to the locomotive, and it was time to go.
Akstyr had lain on his back in the dark for a long time. At some point, his wounds had stopped bleeding, though the leg and shoulder throbbed, competing with each other for attention. He’d tried to heal himself a few times, but he was struggling to concentrate through the pain. He thought about climbing out of the engine room and trying to find bandages, but it sounded like an excruciating trek. It was silly at his age-he was within spitting distance of eighteen, after all-but he wished he had someone there to take care of him. These were the times when he missed having a mother who cared.
Tears stung his eyes. He told himself it was from the pain, and not because he was feeling sorry for himself.
Besides, he would have someone to take care of him if he hadn’t messed everything up. Books would have helped him, but now that he knew about Akstyr’s stupid plan with the bounty hunter, Akstyr was lucky Books hadn’t pushed him back out the hatchway.
Akstyr couldn’t believe he had, even for a second, thought his mother might have changed. He wondered how much money she’d been offered to share the information on his whereabouts. What kind of person told bounty hunters where to find her own child?
“Maybe the same kind of person who would do it to comrades who’ve saved his life,” Akstyr muttered. He rubbed his face. In thinking of betraying Sicarius, he’d been no different than his mother. Did he really want to be someone who’d use people for protection and personal gain, then betray them? Maldynado and Basilard and the others were the closest thing to friends he’d ever had. His dead ancestors knew they were the first people he’d ever known who wouldn’t betray him for five ranmyas and a mug of cider. Even after learning about the deal Akstyr had tried to work with that bounty hunter, Books hadn’t kicked him off the dirigible.
Akstyr rolled over and pushed himself to his feet. Waves of pain radiated from his injured limbs, but he clawed his way up the ladder anyway. He found Books in the navigation cabin and plopped down in the co-pilot’s chair. He couldn’t tell if the ship had moved. The snow had stopped, but it was still dark outside with craggy snow-covered mountains looming all about.
“Does Am’ranthe know?” Akstyr asked.
Books gave him a scathing look.
“That’s a no?” Akstyr asked.
“Oh, she knows. We found out at the same time. She wanted to give you another chance. More than that, she wanted to find a way to raise the money to send you to school on the Kyatt Islands so you’d no longer feel compelled to betray us for funds.”
“She did?” Akstyr tried to swallow, but a full feeling in his throat made it hard. Tears pricked his eyes, and he wasn’t sure if they were from pain or frustration or distress. Why was Amaranthe trying to do stuff like that anyway? It didn’t make any sense.
“Yes. And, no, I can’t fathom why she cares. Maybe she’s decided to make you a special project. Women do that.” Books reached into a box on the floor, pulled out a jar of ointment and a bandage, and threw them at Akstyr. Yes, threw was the right word. Akstyr would have had another bruise if he hadn’t caught the jar. “Wash your wounds before you bandage them,” Books said.
It wasn’t exactly like having someone to take care of him, but Akstyr couldn’t bring himself to feel indignant just then. In a quiet voice, he asked, “Are you going to tell her?”
“About these gang thugs that are after you?” Books asked. “Yes, she’ll need to know. When people attack you in the middle of one of our missions, it affects the whole group.”
“I meant about my mother. It’s not like the meeting with Khaalid. I didn’t mean to tell her anything about the group. I was just…”
“Negligent?” Books suggested.
Again, Akstyr couldn’t bring himself to bristle with indignation.
“Possibly a forgivable sin,” Books said, “but if you have even the tiniest speck of wisdom floating around in that young head of yours, you’ll apologize to Amaranthe for mucking up her plans. And, if I were you, I’d make sure I didn’t get caught alone with Sicarius any time soon.”
Akstyr gulped. “Does he know too?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. I haven’t told him you’re targeting him with your schemes, and I don’t think Amaranthe has either. I suppose we all believe that Sicarius can take care of himself.” Books returned his focus to the control panel and shifted a lever an inch. “That said, he’s not a dumb man, and you’re not a subtle man, so you’d best assume he knows more than you think he does.”
“You think he’d kill me over…?”
“I don’t think he believes in special projects.”
“But Am’ranthe… he kind of listens to her,” Akstyr said. “Right?”
“I don’t know what their agreement is, but he’s his own man, and he seems to pay attention to her only insofar as it furthers… I don’t know what his reason is for being here, but I’m positive he has one. Some agenda against Forge perhaps. He’s shown that he’s perfectly capable of doing something of which Amaranthe would wholeheartedly disapprove.” Books gave Akstyr another dark look. “She never would have agreed to the mass assassination of dozens of businessmen and women in the capital.”
“All right,” Akstyr said. “I’ll heed your warning.”
Books muttered something that sounded like, “Doubt it.” Before Akstyr could respond, he raised his voice and pointed out the window. “See that precipice?”
“Barely. It’s dark.”
“Yes, that happens at night. I need you to bandage yourself up, then go down there and stand on it. It overlooks the railway about a mile away from the now-blocked pass. I’m going to hover below you in this canyon, so the dirigible won’t be visible from the tracks. You watch for the train. When it comes and it looks like the team is ready for us, signal to me, so I can come out and pick them up.”
“That’s kind of an important job,” Akstyr said. “I’m surprised you trust me to do it after… everything.”
“We abandoned the tattooed pilot, so you’re the only candidate. Hurry up, now. They could be coming along any time.”
Without objection, Akstyr went off to wash his leg and wrap the dog bite. For reasons he didn’t quite grasp, Books was giving him a second chance. Maybe Amaranthe would too. Sicarius… He’d hope to avoid Sicarius for the near future.
Akstyr was barely able to hobble on the leg hurt, but he did it without collapsing. If all he had to do was sit on a ledge and watch a canyon, he could manage. He had a feeling he should be on good behavior for a while.
He limped to the hatchway of the navigation cabin. “I’m going.”
Books waved at him without looking back.
