Deadly Games

Cuts were nothing new to Basilard, butTaloncrest’s smile and the enthusiastic way he scribbled notes onhis clipboard made Basilard uneasy. As did the talk of “samples”and “anesthesia.”

“Your speed in the race,” thewoman-Litya-said, “is that typical for you, or do you believe itwas a fluke performance? Your agility must have impressed our boy,because he’d had another pegged as our last acquisition. I have nodata on you however.”

Basilard clasped his hands behind his back.These people had nothing good planned for him, so he saw no reasonto assist them.

“Taloncrest,” Litya said, “can you understandhis hand codes? Can you make him speak?”

Basilard raised his chin. They couldtry to make him speak.

The young soldier stepped forward at this, aneager smile tightening his lips.

“I don’t know enough of the signs,”Taloncrest said.

“Maybe he’s learned to write Turgonian?”Litya asked. “Or does anybody here read Mangdorian? They’re vaguelyliterate, aren’t they?”

Basilard thought about waving for a pen, ifonly so he could attempt to stab the woman in the belly with itbefore the men stopped him, but it was probably better to pretendhe could not write and did not understand much of what they weresaying.

“When Metya gets back, we’ll question himunder the influence of pok-tah,” the woman said. “If heknows anything, he’ll be eager to share it with us then, one way oranother.”

“It didn’t work on Sicarius,” Taloncrestmuttered, head down, scrawling notes again.

Had Basilard thought about it, he would haveassumed Sicarius was here somewhere, too, but hearing the namestartled him. He covered his surprise quickly and hoped nobodynoticed.

He waited, hoping they would say somethingthat would indicate whether Sicarius was alive or if they hadalready…disposed of him, but nobody spoke again. After Taloncrestfinished scribbling his notes, he nodded to the woman, and the trioleft.

The door clanged shut, and the locks thunkedinto place.

Basilard could only guess at what thesepeople were up to, but he knew he wanted to be no part of it. If hewas on a ship, steaming away from the city, he could not count onAmaranthe and the others finding him and rescuing him. He wouldhave to escape.

He eyed the solid metal walls and the sparseconfines of the cabin. It would not be easy.

Amaranthe swept dust and food crumbs off thetop of the lookout car. Despite the busy night, she had sleptpoorly when she, Maldynado, and Books returned to their camp in theboneyard. She had woken at dawn, the lump on her head throbbing,and frequent yawns had been tearing her gritty eyes ever since.Morning sun beat against her back, making the night’s rain a faintmemory, but the warmth failed to cheer her. Akstyr had notreturned, and she was beginning to fear he had been captured, too.Or worse.

She could not stop picturing Fasha’s deadbody in her mind. Though the girl had never officially hired herteam, or asked for protection, Amaranthe knew she had failed her.She should have kept better tabs on the girl, or at least warnedher not to go hunting for clues on her own.

She swept more vigorously.

“Amaranthe?” Books called. “Are you upthere?”

She swept a walnut shell off the edge,sending it clanging against the rail car on the far side of theircamp.

“Must be a yes,” Books muttered as he climbedup. He frowned over the top of the ladder at her. “I can seecleaning the cars we’re dwelling in, but the tops of them? Is thatnecessary?”

Books held a napkin full of food, andAmaranthe stopped sweeping. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her thatmany hours had passed since her last meal.

“Someone ate walnuts up here and left shellseverywhere,” she said.

“Yes, but is it necessary to cleanthat?”

“No, it’s not necessary, Books, but this iswhat I do when-” She broke off, not wanting to start ranting overnothing. He was not the one upsetting her; it was the cursedsituation and the fact that she was losing men every time sheturned around. “This is what I do.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I just thought…youshould get more rest.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah.” Books cleared his throat, glanced down,and seemed to remember he held food. “Breakfast?” He offered her acouple of hard-boiled eggs and a slab of ham.

Amaranthe drew her kerchief from her pocket,found it soot-stained, and sighed. She set it aside to wash laterand grabbed the food barehanded. “Thank you.”

“It’s an all-protein breakfast,” Books said.“I believe Sicarius would approve.”

She tried to smile. “He’d add seeds and rawvegetables to counteract the saltiness of the ham. Or maybe they’reto keep morning movements regular. I think I’ve finally got hisdiet down, but I can’t remember all the reasons for all therules.”

“I just know we’re lucky to have food at allwith Basilard gone. What are we going to do next to find them?”

“I’m not sure.” Which meant she had no idea.“They know we’re looking for them now. I wish we had some soldierfriends at Fort Urgot, so we could ask if anyone knew whatTaloncrest was last working on.” Amaranthe took a bigger bite ofham than normal, tearing it off with a savage chomp.

“Yes, soldiers have that tedious tendency totry and capture us when we get close. Or shoot us on sight.”

“We were this close….” She held upher thumb and forefinger, a millimeter between them. “I don’t knowif that was their hideout or simply a transfer station, but thefire surely destroyed any evidence left behind. They must haverealized there were witnesses to Basilard’s kidnapping. Or maybethey intended him to be the last person they stole, and they didn’tneed the fire brigade building any more.”

“I know it seems bleak now,” Books said, “butwe can’t give up.”

“Of course not. We’re just…” Amaranthetouched the lump on her head, eliciting a stab of pain. “Recoveringfor a few hours.”

“Anyone home?” a familiar voice called.

Akstyr. Amaranthe rose to her feet andstepped to the edge of the car roof. He slouched into camp, hisspiky hair drooping, and dark circles beneath his eyes. He appeareduninjured.

Amaranthe knew it was uncharitable, but shewished it were Sicarius striding into camp instead. Akstyr mighthave information though. She waved for him to come up.

“Busy night?” she asked.

“Boring night,” Akstyr said.

That didn’t sound promising. “Did you learnanything?”

“Enh.”

She circled her hand in the air, implying hecould explain further.

“I spotted the woman and the man running outof the smoke and into an alley,” Akstyr said.

“Woman and man? From inside the carriage?”Amaranthe asked. “What did they look like?”

“The woman had red hair and she was nice andcurvy. The man was older. Short, gray hair. Looked like a soldier,but he was just wearing a black shirt, so it was hard to tell.”

That sounded like Taloncrest and the womanthe young thieves had described. Amaranthe nodded. “Go on.”

“I followed them, figured you’d want to knowwhere they went.”

“Yes, I do. Thank you. And?” Sometimes sheappreciated that Maldynado launched into the whole story at thetiniest prompting. Surely soldiers could get information out ofprisoners of war more easily than she could dig it out of Akstyr attimes.

“Stayed back in the shadows so they wouldn’tsee me. Almost lost them a couple of times, but I found ‘em againon the docks. They went out on Pier Thirteen to a warehouse at theend.”

Amaranthe frowned at Books. “That’s theBolidot’s Imports warehouse, isn’t it? She has a huge business witha big turnover, and cargo ships go in and out of there every day.Kidnappers needing to maintain a low profile