Deadly Games

theend. Something shimmered in the air before it. Some sort of magicalhatch?

Books pointed to a plaque above the doorway.“Navigation.”

Amaranthe slowed as they approached. She didnot see anyone inside yet, but such an important station should bemanned.

Another boom rocked the fortress, though notas fiercely as the first, and she remained upright this time.

What is that? she signed to Books.Some kind of attack from the marine ship?

Charges dropped in a waterproofcontainer? he suggested.

Amaranthe inched closer to the chamber. Thefar wall held an eight-foot-wide oblong porthole above a consolefilled with levers, gauges, and a head-sized illuminated dome.Water pressed against the porthole, and an orange glow from thelights outside bathed the silt and rock of the lake floor. A schoolof the translucent guard fish flitted past.

One man walked into view from the side, and asecond rose out of a high-backed chair that had hidden him fromsight. They leaned over the controls and argued in their ownlanguage. One pointed at the porthole. Muskets leaned against theconsole between them.

Amaranthe used their distraction to inchcloser, though she was careful not to touch the shimmering field.Energy crackled in the air and nipped at her cheeks.

On a side wall, an open weapons locker heldcutlasses and the empty musket slots. A row of yellow vials hung ina small rack. If those contained the same concoction that hadrendered so many people unconscious, they might prove useful.

The voices of the two men grew more agitated.Outside the porthole, a metallic box floated into view. It couldn’tbe heavy since it drifted down instead of plummeting. Amaranthesquinted, trying to decipher a black stamp on the box. An oil canover crossed swords, the symbol representing the army’s engineeringdivision.

Books grabbed her arm and tried to pull herfurther back into the corridor, but too many others occupied thespace. Before they could organize a retreat, the metallic boxexploded with a blinding flash.

The force hurled her backward. Someone caughther, but they tumbled to the deck in a tangle of limbs anyway.

In the chamber, the navigators also toppled,and their muskets clattered to the floor. One man lunged to hisfeet and pointed at the porthole, curses flowing from his lips. Atleast, Amaranthe assumed they were curses. Nobody said happy thingsin that tone of voice.

She spotted the reason for their ire: ahairline crack streaked across the porthole glass.

Amaranthe climbed off of Books, and hetouched her arm, nodding for them to retreat to speak. The rest ofthe group followed.

“You know what they’re saying?” she whisperedwhen they had backed to the ladder. Voices still floated up frombelow, but she could not tell if any belonged to the guardssearching for them.

“They’re cursing the Turgonian devils outsideand the blond devil inside,” Books whispered.

Blond. That had to be Sicarius.

“They want to move this vessel,” Books wenton, “but he’s killed the engineers and barricaded himself in theengine room.”

Those were her men inside, givingthose practitioners trouble. But if they were trapped, they neededher help. Amaranthe rubbed sweat from her brow and ignored an urgeto claw off the stifling suit. They might need to flee outsideagain.

“All right,” Amaranthe said, “here’s theplan: you and Akstyr take Merva and find the rest of the athletes.Maldynado and I will get inside navigation and deal with thosetwo.” And maybe the practitioners in front of the engine room, too,if she could pilfer a couple of those vials.

Books lifted a finger, as if he meant toobject-or perhaps warn her of the lack of prudence in herscheme-but shouts came from the level below, and he dropped hishand. “Very well.”

“One more question,” Amaranthe said. “I knowthese helmets are waterproof. Are they air-proof, too? If one choseto wear them in here?”

Books’s brow crinkled. “I imagine they’d haveto be. So long as you don’t run out of the air in your dedicatedsupply, you should be fine.” He nodded to the tank on her back.

“Thanks.” Amaranthe waved for him to take offwith the others. “Be careful.”

Books, Akstyr, and Merva left, leavingAmaranthe and Maldynado alone to face the practitioners. She took adeep breath and pointed toward the navigation room. “I’m going todistract those two while you grab a couple of the yellow vials inthe weapons locker, got it?”

“Got it, boss.”

Amaranthe returned to the barrier and knockedon the wall. The two men, who had been arguing over the crack,whirled and gaped. She spoke quickly, wanting to head off anylunges for weapons-or magical attacks.

“Greetings. It looks like you gentlemen coulduse some help. Do you speak Turgonian?”

“Help!” one man yelled. He wore spectaclesthat rested so low on his nose that Amaranthe could not imaginethem offering anything more than an enhanced view of his ownpores.

“Was that a question,” Amaranthe asked, “or acall for assistance?”

“Are you with them?” He stabbed afinger toward the ceiling with such vigor that his spectacles fellthe rest of the way off his nose. He caught them with a growl andthrust the frames back over his ears.

The second man, a rangy fellow with pale haircombed over a balding pate, watched the exchange in silence. Long,bony fingers flexed at his side, as if he might be thinking ofhurling some spell at Amaranthe.

“With the marines?” she asked, her eyes wide.“No, they want us dead. I’m Amaranthe Lokdon. I run The Emperor’sEdge mercenary outfit. Haven’t you heard of us?”

The two men exchanged blank looks. That wasfine. As long as they weren’t thinking of attacking her.

“I assumed you had,” Amaranthe said, “becauseyou kidnapped two of my men.”

“Oh,” Spectacles growled. “Sicarius. You runwith his group?”

“He runs with my group.” Amarantheturned to Maldynado. “I make all the decisions and do all theplanning. Why is nobody ever aware of that?” She hoped her whiningmade her sound innocuous, like someone who wasn’t a threat, likesomeone who could be invited in to chat further….

“Because you’re friendly and nice, andhe’s…someone who likes to kill people who are friendly and nice?”Maldynado suggested.

“That must be it.” Amaranthe faced thepractitioners again, empty hands spread. “Gentlemen, it looks likeyou’re in a dungeon with few prospects for escape. Am I correct indeducing that my men are making trouble in your engine room?”

“We’re taking care of them,” Spectaclessaid.

Another boom rattled the fortress. The men’swary eyes lifted toward the ceiling. If the marines kept droppingcharges, one was bound to land on top of the vessel eventually.

“I could get them to walk out right now,”Amaranthe said, “and you people could amble in, fix up thoseengines, and escape this lake before the marines get lucky.”

“The kraken will handle their ship,”Spectacles said. “Even now, it’s attacking them. They will eithersink or flee to the docks, wetting their trousers on the way.”

“Uhm,” Amaranthe said, “you speak Turgonianvery well, but you don’t seem to understand the warrior mentalityof our people. The captain will be tickled at the idea of facing akraken. A training exercise, if you will. If they thought the beasta severe threat, they’d be too busy facing it to drop charges overthe side.” That story sounded plausible, anyway. In truth, therewere probably a couple of lowly privates up there, assigned thetask of sending the explosives down in hopes that destroying thefortress would make the kraken lose interest in defending it. “Oncethey dispatch your little pet, they’ll be able to focus all theirattention on this vessel.”

“We’ll be fine on our own,” Spectacles said.“We-”

The balding man stopped him with a raisedhand, and Amaranthe wondered if he, despite being the quiet one,might be in charge. “What are you proposing, woman?”

“Amaranthe,” she said, figuring they’d bemore likely to see her as an ally if they were on a first namebasis. “May we come in to discuss this? Some of your guards havebeen looking for us, and we’d rather not get shot in the back whilewe’re talking to you.”