Amaranthe’s invocation of warrior-castestatus did nothing to impress the woman. In fact, she scowled moredeeply. New money, perhaps, one who had no respect for thearistocracy. Still, if she was the owner, or someone high up in thebusiness, she ought to be interested in pleasing clients.
“Ms. Setjareth,” she said. “Partial owner.What do you want? This is my warehouse, and unless you’re carryingin cargo, I’m not interested in talking to you. You, Squid Tat,take that one to the second floor.”
“I’m interested in purchasing some of yourinventory,” Amaranthe said.
“Shop’s on Third and Canal.” The woman’s gazelowered to her clipboard again.
Amaranthe stepped closer so she blocked thewoman’s view of Akstyr. Behind her back, she flicked a finger tosend him to snoop. “I thought it might save us both some money if Icame directly to the source. No need for you to transport and stockyour inventory when I can-”
“Shop’s on Third and Canal,” the womanrepeated.
“I see. You’re the half of the ownership teamthat
“Correct,” the woman said without thefaintest hint of an eyebrow to suggest she took reproach atAmaranthe’s dry tone.
Akstyr had moved away from the group, but hehad scarcely begun to search. Time for another tactic. Maldynadowas leaning against a post nearby, an amused smile on his lips. Shejerked her chin toward the woman.
Maldynado gave her a small bow and strolledforward. He crouched down so the woman could see past the clipboardto his face.
“Ms. Setjareth,” Maldynado drawled. “I’llwager you’ve got the prettiest smile this side of Wharf Street. Whydon’t you give me a demonstration so I can more properlyjudge?”
“If I tried a line like that, I’d get stabbedin the eye with a pen,” Books muttered.
“Ssh,” Amaranthe whispered. “Let the masterwork.”
“Master?” Books said. “Please.”
“There are less than ten females this side ofWharf Street,” Setjareth growled. “Not much of a competition.”
Amaranthe grinned. Though it wasn’t exactlyan instant melting, the woman didn’t order Maldynado to go away orleave her alone, so it was promising. There was no talk of stabbingeyeballs with pens either.
“Ah, but some of your stevedores might haveattractive smiles,” Maldynado said.
Setjareth snorted.
“Also my own employer stands a mere five feetaway.” Maldynado waved at Amaranthe. “Do you understand the risk Itake to my livelihood by suggesting your smile might be prettierthan hers?”
Setjareth’s snort was mellower this time witha slight upward curl of her lips. Amaranthe eased a few stepsbackward to let Maldynado ooze his charms in private. She shouldhave started with that.
“What are you doing?” Setjareth shouted.
The bellow startled Amaranthe, and at firstshe thought Maldynado had offended the woman, but that wasn’t it.Setjareth was pointing into a corner of the warehouse where Akstyrstood, a trapdoor in the floor lifted.
He offered a blank look in response to thequestion.
“Don’t worry about him.” Maldynado slung anarm over Setjareth’s shoulder and attempted to turn her about.“He’s a dull lad. Got run over by a steam carriage as a boy andhasn’t been strong in the head since. Harmless though. If-”
Setjareth shoved Maldynado’s arm from hershoulders and stalked toward Akstyr. “What’re you doing pokingaround my warehouse?”
Akstyr looked at Amaranthe. “Uhm.”
“Are you spying on our inventory?” Setjarethasked, voice rising. “Are you reporting to Lady Devirk orBucktooth?”
Several of the stevedores who had been ontheir way out the door to pick up more cargo stopped and turnedaround. Chests out, arms flexed and wide at their sides, themuscled men strode toward their boss.
“No, no, nothing like that.” Amaranthegrabbed Akstyr’s arm and tugged him away from the trapdoor. Shecaught a glimpse of a ladder and water less than a foot below.There was no way a boat could have waited down there. “I see you’renot interested in easy sales, and that’s your loss. We’ll leavenow.”
“Not until you answer some questions.”Setjareth snapped her fingers, and the stevedores loomedcloser.
Amaranthe’s instinct was to flee rather thanrisking injury to these people or her team, but Akstyr gave her aminute nod. He was onto something. Besides, it would be nice ifBooks realized he was capable of more than he gave himself creditfor. She counted the men. Eight of them against her four. Thanks totheir work, the stevedores were large and brawny, but they had thecultivated swagger of street bravos rather than the cool,competence of soldiers, and she doubted there were manydistinguished veterans among the bunch.
“You wish us to stay?” Amaranthe asked. “Verywell.” She gave her men a single nod.
Books blanched, but he did not object.Maldynado grinned. Akstyr gave his “whatever” shrug.
“Wants me to grab ‘em, boss?” One of thestevedores stretched a meaty hand toward Amaranthe.
She caught it by the wrist, twisted it over,and smashed the palm of her free hand into the back of the man’slocked elbow. He blurted a surprised yelp. She forced him to theground with a kick to the inside of his knee, and something poppedin his arm.
“My shoulder!” he bellowed.
Amaranthe yanked the knife at his belt freeand spun on a second man advancing upon her.
A few feet away, Maldynado had already thrownhimself into three others and gone down with them in a tangle.Despite the chaos of flailing arms and scissor-kicking legs, he wason top, seemingly in control. Akstyr, his dagger out, was tradingopening swipes with another man. Books had a blade in hand as well,though he crouched in a defensive stance, waiting for an opponentto advance on him, rather than jumping into the fray.
The man nearest Amaranthe lunged for her. Hehad chosen fists over blades, and he grabbed at her arm with hisright hand while drawing his left arm back for a blow. She blockedthe grasp, ducked the punch, and slammed the heel of her hand intohis solar plexus, twisting her hips to throw her entire body intothe move.
His hard sheath of muscle provided some armorfor his torso, but she hit her spot. He hunched over, clutching hischest. His mouth gaped open, but his stunned muscles denied himair.
Eyes huge with concern, he did not seeAmaranthe’s knee coming. She rammed it into his groin. His nosescraped his knees as his hunch turned into a collapse. The big manhit the ground and rolled into a protective ball next to the firststevedore Amaranthe had dropped.
That fellow lay on his back, eyes watering,his hand clutching a dislocated shoulder. He glowered at her andseemed to be considering whether to hurl himself back into thefight.
“I wouldn’t,” Amaranthe said. “I know how todislocate other body parts as well.”
He eyed his comrade who was still hunched onthe floor, grabbing at his groin and moaning. “I don’t doubt it,”the stevedore muttered.
Amaranthe checked on her men. Maldynado stoodnext to three bodies stacked on each other like Strat Tiles. He hadone foot atop the pile, as if to keep them pinned down, but none somuch as twitched in an escape attempt.
Nearby, blood trickled out of Akstyr’s nose,but he had dropped one man and was boxing with another. Akstyrdodged a swift series of punches, but barely. Though layers ofblubber sheathed the towering stevedore’s broad torso, he movedwith the speed and precision of someone who had been the recipientof training at one time.
“Need help?” Amaranthe asked.
The big man glanced in her direction.
Akstyr’s eyes narrowed in concentration. Heclenched a fist and flung it open again when his opponent turnedback.
Flesh never touched flesh, but the manstaggered back, arms wide, face stunned. With flexibility that hadgreatly improved over the last few months of training, Akstyrlaunched a straight kick that smashed the stevedore beneath thechin. The big man toppled backward, felled like an oak.
“That was good,” Akstyr told Amaranthe.
She did not know if he referred to thetimeliness of her brief distraction or his ability to employ themental
