toensnare her. If he had gone to this tea house, then it mightindicate the former. But Maldynado was right. She’d be an idiot togive him another chance to betray her.
“I’ll think about it,” Amaranthe said.“Gentlemen.” She nodded to Maldynado and Books. It was time togo.
They started down the corridor, but Mancrestcleared his throat.
Ah, the keys. Right.
Amaranthe removed them from the protrudingstone on the wall and dropped them on the floor in front of theshop.
“Didn’t you say you’d let me out if I sharedwhat I knew?” Mancrest eyed the keys. They were closer but stilltoo far for him to reach.
“I said I’d make it
She, Maldynado, and Books headed out.Midnight had to be growing near, and they had much work to do.
CHAPTER 10
Soft rain pattered onto the cobblestones andrailway tracks alongside the street. Amaranthe pedaled up thewaterfront, trying to hover above the damp bicycle seat in anattempt to avoid a wet backside. Maldynado rode alongside, hisknees nearly clunking his own chin with each revolution-he had beenunable to find a taller model left on the communal rack and hadrefused a couple of larger bicycles that appeared “too feminine.”That it was well after midnight and no one was around to see himriding did not seem to matter.
He also balanced the soldier’s rifle acrossthe handlebars. Tonight, it might be worth risking the unwantedattention of being spotted with firearms in the city. Amaranthewore a pistol on her sword belt, opposite the blade. A light jackethid the firearm, and Maldynado could always toss the rifle ifpotential witnesses spotted them.
They pedaled through darkness punctuated bypuddles of light from gas lamps. On the other side of the tracks,water lapped at the pilings of docks, many supporting toweringwarehouses, all dark this time of night. Amaranthe supposed theywould not luck across one with a brightly painted sign that read,“Kidnapped athletes stored here.” This time of year, the docks sawa lot of traffic and would make a poor hideout for those engagingin felonious activities.
“There’s the spur.” Maldynado pointed attracks veering inland, away from the main line. The wet steelgleamed under the influence of a corner street lamp.
“Let’s check it,” Amaranthe said.
She turned onto the street, glad to leave thebumpy cobblestones for a modern cement avenue. A hill loomed,though, and Maldynado grumbled under his breath, something about itbeing less work to carry the small bicycle up the incline than topedal.
Warehouses continued for the next few blocks,and commercial and residential tenements rose beyond that.Amaranthe doubted they needed to search that far up the hill.
“What are we looking for exactly?” Maldynadoasked.
“A door large enough to hide that railcarriage.” Amaranthe yawned. She was starting to feel the latenessof the hour. “Though freight cars are sometimes shunted up thesidings, they don’t spend the night. Our kidnappers have to be ableto hide their conveyance when they’re not using it.”
“A
“But are they big with railway tracks leadingbeneath them?”
“Ah, not all. Just…” Maldynado pointed.“There’s one.”
Amaranthe parked her bicycle against thebrick wall of a building on the opposite side of the street. Theywere between lamp-lit intersections, so shadows would hide themfrom anyone looking out a window. Not that she expected to chanceupon the villain’s hideout in the first place they checked, but onenever knew.
A couple of blocks up the hill, a ponderoussteam vehicle rolled onto the street with twin lanterns lightingits way. It had the girth of a rail car itself, and swingingmechanical arms stuck out of the upper portion of both sides, likea pair of bug antennae. A stench reminiscent of burning hair wafteddown the street ahead of it.
“What is that hideous thing?” Maldynado hadalso dismounted and leaned his bicycle against the wall.
“You’ve never seen a garbage steamer?”Amaranthe asked. “How can you have lived your whole life in thecity without seeing one?”
“I don’t know.” He clasped a hand over hisnose. “I tend to run the other way when I smell a stench like thatin the middle of the night.”
The vehicle trundled to a stop and asoot-caked man with a greasy beard and hair in need of scissorshopped out. He grabbed a couple of ash cans in an alley and dumpedthem into the back. He opened the door to an incinerator thatburned independently of the firebox powering the boiler. Thecontents of a bronze waste bin went into the flames.
“Why don’t you take a look at that building?”Amaranthe waved to the one they had stopped to check. “I’m going totalk to that fellow. If he works at night, he may have seensomething suspicious on his route.”
“Be careful,” Maldynado said. “He looksdangerous, like he doesn’t see daylight too often. Probably notwomen either.”
“So, he’ll be happy to see me.”
“He’d be happier if you were in somethingless…well, less. What happened to the disguise I got you beforewe went into the mountains?”
“The one that showed more skin than mostpeople reveal in the public baths? Sicarius didn’t like it.”
“First off,” Maldynado said, “you shouldn’ttake fashion advice from someone whose wardrobe is monochromatic.Second, he didn’t
“I’ll let you tell him that when we findhim.”
Amaranthe waved him toward the building andjogged up the hill.
“Hello,” she called to the man, not wantingto startle him. A second fellow sat in the cab of the vehicle, andshe lifted a hand in greeting toward him as well.
The garbage collector nearly dropped the canin his arms when he spotted her. He glanced over his shoulder,perhaps thinking she was speaking to someone else.
“That’s a nice looking steamer,” Amaranthesaid as she drew near. She fought the urge to crinkle her nose, notentirely sure all the foul smells came from the vehicle.
He scratched his tangled hair, probablytrying to figure out why a woman was running up to him in themiddle of the night. “Yup, yup ‘tis.”
“I was wondering what those arms do.” Shepointed at the articulating antennae-like devices.
“Yup, yup, they’re for fetching big piecesoutta hard-to-reach spots. See them claspers at the end?” The manwent on to detail dozens of features of the vehicle, which turnedout to be a brand new model. After a barked warning from hisco-worker, he continued to work while he talked.
Amaranthe walked beside him and gruntedencouragingly from time to time, figuring they were bonding. Theman ought to think her less odd if they had established a rapportbefore she started pumping him for information.
“Yup, she’s a real fine lady.” He finished bypatting the vehicle on the side. “You want to ride along aspell?”
“Tempting,” she said, “but I’m on aquest.”
“Oh?” He scraped his fingers through histangled beard.
“I don’t suppose you’ve seen a fancy blackrail carriage rolling through this neighborhood late at night? Itwould have been in the last two…”
She trailed off, since he was alreadynodding.
“Seen that beauty a couple of times. That’s acustom job. Ain’t no factory-made model, no, ma’am.”
