Deadly Games

“Unknown.”

She stood and frowned at Sicarius. “When Irecruited you for my team, I didn’t fully realize how many peoplethere were scheming up plots that involved you.”

“Regrets?” he asked.

Amaranthe almost said something flippant-howoften did he set himself up so nicely for teasing? — but a faintvariance to his usual monotone made her think the answer mightmatter. It seemed impossible. She always figured she needed him onher team far more than he needed her. Ancestors knew he had savedher life more times than she could count. But maybe he had come tocare about what she thought of him.

She sighed and patted him on the arm. “Nah,you know I like a challenge. Let’s get back to the hideout and seeif we can hunt down the others. I seem to have granted a vacationprematurely. I think we’re going to need everyone in on this.”

“Agreed,” Sicarius said.

Morning sun burned into the rusted hulls ofdecommissioned rail cars that filled the vast boneyard. Heatradiated from them, some as yet unscathed by the years and othersso rusted each wall was a see-through latticework. The occasionalshiny bits glinted, throwing rays into Amaranthe’s eyes as shepassed. Weeds rose from cracks between faded and broken bricks thatlined the ground, suggesting the area had once had a noblerpurpose.

Sicarius had disappeared as soon as theyneared the boneyard, and Amaranthe weaved through the aisles towardtheir hideout alone. Unfamiliar coughs and voices echoed fromdifferent parts of the field, a reminder that more groups than herscalled this place a home, however temporarily. Cigar stubs, somefilled with tobacco and some with more potent leaves, littered thebricks. Bloodstains were nearly as frequent. The boneyard had thebenefit of not being visited often by enforcers, but that also madeit a place Amaranthe would not have chosen to visit alone atnight.

She turned down a dead end and stumbled.Maldynado lounged in a chair he had scavenged from one of thepassenger cars. His face was tilted toward the sun, his eyes wereclosed, his hands were clasped behind his head, and hewas…naked.

“Maldynado,” Amaranthe groaned.

“Oh, hullo, boss.” He neither rose noradjusted his position to hide anything; he simply sprawled there,like a cat in a sunbeam.

“What are you doing?”

“Vacationing.”

Amaranthe pulled a towel out of her satcheland draped it across his waist as she walked past. “I see you’veset yourself an ambitious itinerary.”

“You said to relax. I’m relaxing.” Hescratched an armpit. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Profound and philosophical thoughts?”

“Naturally,” Maldynado said. “For instance, Ifigure we should have a team uniform.”

“A uniform?”

“Clothes that make us look like a stylish andcohesive unit of elite combat professionals.”

“Something like what Sicarius wears?”Amaranthe asked.

“He’s far too monochromatic and plain to beconsidered stylish.”

“I see. Well, let me know what you come upwith.” She peered into the cars she and her team had claimed, a setof three that were less rusted than most. They framed a dead endand created a private camp spot. “Anyone else about?”

“Akstyr’s off somewhere being secretive andmagicky, and Books left at dawn, excited about spending a day atthe library-that is pathetic, by the way.”

“Basilard’s not around?”

“Haven’t seen him since last night.”

“I hope he shows up today. I want to takeeverybody in and investigate Barlovoc Stadium. Something’s goingon, maybe something important.”

“Important enough to interrupt ourvacation?”

“Absolutely,” Amaranthe said. “This has thepotential to attract attention high up. This could be the one.”

“Uh huh, when you’re done rubbing your handstogether and plotting gleefully, think about what you’re going towear for your date tonight.”

“My what?”

Sicarius chose that moment to finish scoutingand walk into camp.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Maldynadosaid. “Lord Mancrest. I’ve been trying to get you to meet him forweeks, but you keep saying, ‘wait until we have some time off.’Well, you gave us time off.”

“All right, but not tonight. This is moreimportant than-”

“I already set it up,” Maldynado said.

Sicarius’s expression was cool as he drewnear, but she did not know if it was due to the conversation topicor Maldynado’s lack of attire.

“I told him you were free and that you’d meethim tonight,” Maldynado said. “He said he’ll take you out to a nicedinner. His family has money, so you should mine that vein for allit’s worth. When was the last time you had something fancy? Get thepriciest cut of meat.”

“Maldynado…”

“He’s a gentlemen. Probably won’t even expectyou to warm his sheets afterward. Unless you want to, of course. Idon’t think you’ve blanket wrestled with anybody for as long asI’ve known you, so you must have some urges that are aching to besated.”

“Maldynado!” Amaranthe should not haveblushed, but she was all too conscious of Sicarius standing a fewpaces away.

“Wear something nice,” Maldynado said. “He’sexpecting you at The Gazette building at six.”

“I’m not… Did you say The Gazette?”Amaranthe wanted to object, since she’d already been planning anight of snooping, but the chance to go into the city’s largestnewspaper office and chat up the boss was appealing. At theleast, she could find out if the journalists had heard aboutanything fishy going on at Barlovoc Stadium. Developing arelationship with Mancrest could prove useful long- term as well. Ifshe could convince him her team was working for the good of theempire, perhaps he would publish something nice-like the truth.“All right. I can send you fellows ahead and come to the groundsafterward. No self- respecting snoop sneaks in before midnightanyway.”

“Excellent.”

Sicarius said nothing, but his gaze was lessfriendly than his daggers. When she met his eyes, he jerked hischin toward the old rail car that served as the group’s parlor. Sheclambered inside after him.

The wide opening lacked the sliding door itwould have had during its service days, and Sicarius walked to thefar end, presumably wanting a private conversation. Crates,battered lanterns, and a couple of old strategy games with missingtiles comprised the furnishings. It would be silly to keep anythingvaluable inside since vagrants roamed the boneyard. Amaranthemissed the days of having a safe home to return to at night, onewhere she could keep treasured belongings…like books anddinnerware. When she had been an enforcer, she had never thoughtshe would think of her simple, one-room flat as a luxury.

Sicarius leaned against the far wall, armscrossed over his chest. Sun slanting through holes highlightedrusty rivets on the floor, her purloined broom and dustpan, and theutter lack of humor on his face.

“Problem?” Amaranthe wondered if he might bethe teeniest bit jealous at the idea of Maldynado setting her up ona “date.” She, of course, had only professional interest in thisman and would tell Sicarius that if he asked. She wished hewould ask, since that would imply his admission about caringmeant caring in a romantic way. Well, romantic might not be theexact word to use when describing Sicarius’s feelings, butsomething of that nature anyway.

“Deret Mancrest wrote the story condemning usas Sespian’s kidnappers,” Sicarius said. “Prior to that, he wroteother articles about me and encouraged the emperor to siphon moreforces into capturing me so the army