formemory.
Heavy footfalls followed her, but it soundedlike only one or two pairs of boots, not the entire squad ofsoldiers. If only a couple of the men chased her, she and her teamought to be able to take care of them. They could separate-
“Oomph,” she grunted, hitting anotherwall.
Left turn this time. One more corner, and sheshould run into Maldynado and Books.
Before she finished the thought, she ran intoanother obstacle. Not stone this time, clothing and flesh.
“Boss?” Maldynado whispered.
“Yes, sh.”
The clomping footfalls of a soldier rang outas the man rounded the corner. Amaranthe turned to face him.
In the darkness, she could see nothing. Therhythm of the soldier’s run faltered and slowed. He must sense hewas close, or maybe it was something else. The powder? His stepswere heavy, almost labored. He made no attempt to stifle the soundof his advance.
The gait slowed and grew uneven. Amaranthebent her knees, sword ready. A loud thud came from ahead, no morethan a pace away. Something clattered to the floor.
Silence fell.
A flame flared to life. Maldynado held thelantern high, illuminating the dust-and-cobweb-cloaked tunnel- andthe unmoving soldier at their feet, his rifle a foot away from hisoutstretched hand.
“Huh,” Maldynado said.
“You killed him?” Books stared at her.
“No, at least I don’t think so. I threw thatvial you took from the towel boy into their room.” She knelt down,intending to check his pulse, but a soft snore rumbled from theman’s lips.
“Ah,” Books said.
Amaranthe took the soldier’s rifle, thenpatted him down. She found keys on a clip at his belt and removedthem. “Anybody have rope we can use to tie him up?”
“Not me,” Maldynado said.
Books spread his open hands. No rope. Hm.
“I need to come better prepared for thesemeetings with men,” Amaranthe said.
“Yes,” Maldynado said, “you never know whenrope will come in handy on a date. Lots of reasons to tie peopleup.”
Amaranthe chose not to contemplate hisstatement. She pointed to the soldier. “See if you can use his beltand pants or something, and then follow me. There are more men. I’mhoping they’re sleeping, too.”
Not sure how long the powder might last,Amaranthe jogged back down the corridor toward the cell. She didnot know the dissemination range either. That thought made her slowdown. Would it still be active, or did it wear off shortly afterrelease? She would feel idiotic if she ran in to check on thesoldiers and passed out on top of some man’s chest.
She thought about waiting for Maldynado andBooks to catch up, but maybe it was best to go in alone. If she didpass out, maybe they would realize it and avoid the mistake. Orthey’d collapse on top of her on top of the soldier.
“Over-thinking things,” she muttered, thoughshe dug a kerchief out of her pocket and wrapped it about her noseand mouth before continuing.
She peered through the gate and counted fivesoldiers sprawled on the floor amongst overturned boxes and tippedlanterns. A couple had taken steps toward the exit, but most hadcollapsed where they stood. The vial, now cracked, gleamed where ithad come to rest against the wall. The powder had disappeared,turned to smoke and vanished.
Amaranthe decided not to risk getting closeenough to investigate further. She checked the keys she had takenfrom the soldier. A fob read
“Let’s hope Polga has the power to lock andunlock the gates,” she said.
“Talking to yourself again?” Maldynado askedas he and Books strode around the corner.
“No.” Amaranthe tried one of the keys in thelock. “I knew you’d be here to hear me.”
“The other soldier is sufficiently trussedup,” Books said.
“Albeit, he’ll find it a bit drafty in herewithout his pants,” Maldynado said.
“They’re the only thing that could be used totie his ankles together and bind them to his wrists,” Bookssaid.
“I’m not judging you,” Maldynado said. “That,given the opportunity, your first thought was to strip a handsome,young soldier of his pants doesn’t bother me.”
“You’re odious.”
“They were setting up an ambush,” Amaranthesaid. “Perhaps we should stop talking until we’ve subdued thebait.”
The fourth key she tried turned in the lock.Good. She closed the gate and secured the soldiers inside.
“Do we believe the bait is Mancrest?” Bookswhispered.
“We’ll see.”
She debated whether to continue forward withthe lantern dimmed, but decided the bait would expect her, so shemight as well come in as anticipated. There just wouldn’t be asquad of soldiers ready to charge in and capture her.
She pulled her kerchief down around her neck,and she, Maldynado, and Books followed the corridor to a ramp thatangled downward, then turned at the bottom. More hieroglyphsadorned the walls down here, though she did not spot any more dogsengaged in carnal activities.
The corridor widened and angled to the right.Light came from ahead. More gates marked the walls, andcells-shops-lay behind them. A mix of tacky “adventuring hats,”pyramid-related paraphernalia, and history books adorned theshelves.
The light ahead of them was coming from oneof the shops. Amaranthe cut off her lantern and approached onsilent feet.
She stopped at the gate. She did not seeanyone inside, though a candle burned on a merchant’s counter, theflame sputtering on the wick, and a hint of beeswax tinged themusty air. Racks of cheap factory-made clothing stretched along thewalls.
A low groan emanated from the back of theshop. Ah, there was their bait.
A man lay on the floor, his back to them,wrists and ankles tied with a fat rope. Perhaps it had been chosenfor its visibility-one could not miss it, even from the corridor.The wavy brown hair on the man’s head was a familiar hue andlength.
Amaranthe lifted her eyebrows towardMaldynado. He nodded. Yes, it was Mancrest.
The gate stood open. Amaranthe slid her handinto her pocket, wrapping her fingers about the cool metal keys.Though she meant to abandon stealth in a moment, she did her bestto withdraw the fob quietly.
“Evening, Lord Mancrest,” she said as sheselected the key that had worked on the other gate. The number ofshops-and locks-they had passed suggested one key opened multipledoors. “How’d you get yourself tied up there?”
The muffled response was unintelligible. Hedid manage to twist about so she could see a gag blocking hismouth.
“Disgusting,” Maldynado muttered. “What proudman of the warrior caste stoops so low as to act as bait in astupid trap?”
“Ssh,” Amaranthe whispered, then raised hervoice. “Are you in danger, Lord Mancrest? Who tied you up?”
Again, the gag muffled his response, but shecaught the gist this time, “Help, come untie me.”
“I don’t think so.” Amaranthe shut the gate,slipped the key into the lock, and turned it with a resoundingthunk.
Mancrest sat up, eyes wide. His “what’re youdoing?” was easy to understand.
“Getting annoyed with your donkey manure, oldboy,” Maldynado said.
“What?” Mancrest said, still playing thegame.
