rucksack’s weight on her back.
If Amaranthe looked up and met Sicarius’s eyes, he would probably help her inside, but she mulishly set her jaw.
She sprang and pulled at the same time. Her belly hammered the top of the gate, and her knee thumped unyielding metal. Growling, Amaranthe wriggled and pulled herself inside, possibly with less grace than Books had displayed.
She collapsed, her back against the inside of the gate. The darkness in the cargo bed prevented her from seeing anything, though she could hear Books’s labored breathing. Or maybe that was her own. She hoped it wasn’t loud enough for the men in the cab to hear, or all this would be for naught. But the boiler and furnace were mounted between them and the cargo bed, so Amaranthe hoped that would offer noise insulation.
“Are you all right?” Books whispered.
“Of course,” Amaranthe replied. “I’m finally warm.”
Books snorted.
Someone settled beside her, shoulder to shoulder. Sicarius? Amaranthe surreptitiously wiped sweat from her brow and stomped down a goofy thought that popped into her mind. She was not going to ask him how she smelled now. Instead, she leaned her head on his shoulder, figuring it was best to rest while they could. Who knew what kind of adventure she had just signed her team up for?
The train had started up again, heading away from the isolated depot, and Akstyr was trying to get some sleep, but Maldynado kept climbing in and out through the trapdoor. More than once, hindered by the dark interior, he stepped on Akstyr with his big feet.
“What’re you doing?” Akstyr finally asked.
A hand covered his mouth, not Maldynado’s-Akstyr could see Maldynado dangling, legs halfway through the trapdoor. It had to be Basilard.
Akstyr pushed the hand away and asked more softly, “What’re you doing? Both of you.”
Maldynado dropped down again and slid the trapdoor shut, careful not to make any noise. The darkness inside the car thickened.
“They’re done loading the train,” Maldynado said.
“That usually happens before the train starts moving, yes,” Akstyr said. “Why don’t we all go back to sleep?”
“They didn’t get off the train once they finished loading.”
“They’re riding along with their guns? That’s not real surprising.”
“I guess not.”
Akstyr flopped back, throwing his arm over his eyes. “If they stay in their car, and we stay in ours, it shouldn’t matter.”
“As long as we don’t stumble across each other.” Maldynado laughed. “Could be kind of awkward if one of us and one of them decide to hop up on top of the train at the same time to water the shrubs.”
Akstyr rolled his eyes. Maldynado was at least ten years older than he was, but he didn’t act like it sometimes. It was like he was still a boy. Probably because he had grown up in some wealthy aristocrat’s house, not a backward street drowning in sewage where, if one didn’t pay attention, one got kidnapped and sold downriver to be enslaved in the boiler room on a steamer for years and years. Or worse. Akstyr had lost a friend with a pretty face to one of the slimy brothels in the ghetto where nobody cared if the kids were willing screws or not.
The train picked up speed, leaving the depot far behind. Akstyr relaxed. Whenever Sicarius was gone, he felt more at ease, and, with Amaranthe gone too, he could plan his next move without worrying about-
“We could check up on them,” Maldynado said.
Akstyr sighed.
“Maybe they’re in there, talking about their weapons and where they’re going,” Maldynado said. “I reckon the boss would like to have as much information as possible.”
“Go check then. Me and Basilard will wait here.” Akstyr had no idea what Basilard wanted to do-it was impossible to talk to him in the dark-but he had more common sense than Maldynado, so he probably wouldn’t go hunting for trouble.
“How is it that you command as large of a cut on payday as I do, when you only ever look out for yourself and your interests?” Maldynado asked.
“I’ve got charms.”
Maldynado snorted. “Sure, you do. That’s why you’re always asking me to find you women.”
“I can get women without you.” Actually, Akstyr hadn’t had much success at that, but he’d never admit it.
“Women with teeth?”
“Maldynado, eat street.”
“Uh huh, you’re about as charming as my hairy-”
A clunk sounded outside, somewhere nearby, and Maldynado fell silent. Akstyr lifted his head. The men had been loading the weapons ten cars farther down the train. That noise had sounded much nearer.
“Move away from the trapdoor,” Maldynado whispered. “Take your gear too.”
Akstyr’s first thought was one of huffiness-who had put him in charge? — but a heavy thump sounded, this time almost above him, and he hurried to obey. Someone had to be walking along the tops of the cars, maybe jumping from one to the next. Another thump followed the first. Maybe two someones were up there walking.
A whisper of cold air wafted down from the trapdoor. Maldynado had shut it most of the way, but a half an inch remained open.
A surge of anxiety swept through Akstyr. What if the men saw the open door and shut it and locked it from the outside? The rolling side door was already locked. They’d be trapped down here, in this dark hole, with no way out.
Relax, Akstyr told himself. He had the mental sciences. He might be a long way from reaching mastery at anything, but he could surely thwart a lock.
The footsteps stopped. The trapdoor scraped open a few inches. Light glowed above the crack, then descended, and a brass lantern eased into view, flame dancing behind its dirty glass panes. Stubby fingers with dirt wedged beneath the nails held the handle. The tip of a rifle edged through the opening as well.
The low roof forced Akstyr to crouch so deeply that his knees were bumping his chin and his head was brushing the ceiling, but he pressed himself against the wall, sucking his belly in and hugging the shadows the best he could. After hours in darkness, the light half-blinded him, but he didn’t see Maldynado or Basilard or anybody’s gear or blanket within the lantern’s sphere of influence. Though-Akstyr cringed-someone’s underwear lay draped across a bundle of poles near the wall.
“See anything, Rov?” a man asked outside. “It’s a might suspicious that this here door ain’t secured.”
Akstyr closed his eyes and concentrated on the flame. He didn’t know how to manipulate air or gases yet, so he couldn’t simply blow it out or suck all the oxygen from inside the lantern casing. He did know how to tie and cut things, thanks to that book Amaranthe had found him on healing. One had to do those things in the body sometimes.
“Not sure.” The lantern dropped a few inches lower, bringing a hairy wrist inside with it. “There’s something over…”
Akstyr formed a razor blade in his mind. It sliced through the lantern’s wick, extinguishing the flame.
“Emperor’s bunions,” the voice growled. “You got a match?”
“Yeah, you see anything?”
“Some underwear, I think.”
Akstyr sighed.
“Underwear! What’ve we got, some hobos down there sodomizing each other?” The man laughed at his own joke.
Akstyr’s thighs were starting to burn. If the men came down here, he was done hiding. He, Basilard, and Maldynado could take these idiots. Though, if a rifle went off, the rest of that gang might hear. And if Akstyr and the others were supposed to follow these people to their drop-off point without being seen… An out-and-out brawl
