Deadly Games

The men frowned at her. Despite her attemptat wide-eyed innocence, they seemed to think she might be up tosomething. Annoying when the villains had a modicum ofintelligence.

Spectacles murmured a few words to his bossin their language. Amaranthe hoped it was something like, “They’resimple fighters and not a threat to our magical greatness.”

“Drop your weapons and kick them back intothe tunnel,” the leader finally said.

“Kick?” Maldynado said. “One doesn’tkick a Teldark and Brook blade.”

“Ssh.” Amaranthe tossed her short sword ontothe floor behind them.

Maldynado gently laid his rapier next to herweapon.

Spectacles walked to the wall to the left ofhis side of the barrier where a box emitting a soft green glowperched at face level. He lowered his spectacles and leaned forwardto stare into it. The barrier shimmered and winked out.

Amaranthe waited for the man to step back andgesture for them to enter. She eased inside, hands open and spread.Maldynado did the same, but he stepped to her side, a couple offeet closer to the vials in the weapons locker.

“Stay there,” the leader said. “What’s yourproposal?”

“I’ll get my men to leave peacefully,”Amaranthe said, “and you let us walk, or swim, out of hereunmolested.”

“Sicarius is worth a million ranmyas.”

“Yes, and if you wanted that, you should havekept him unconscious.” She assumed that was how they had capturedhim in the first place, no doubt thanks to her sending him off tosnoop. Someone must have caught him with a whiff from one of thosevials.

“Litya woke him up,” Spectacles said. “Wetold her not to. She paid for it, too. Your men have killedmany of our guards and some of our practitioners. Letting them walkaway unpunished isn’t acceptable.”

“I see. Are you two in charge?” Amarantheasked, wondering if she was negotiating with someone who had thepower to do anything.

“We’re on the committee.”

“Committee? As in shared powers? Andvotes?”

“We’re not savages like you Turgonians,”Spectacles said. “We run a democracy here.”

“Well.” Amaranthe clasped her hands andstrolled to the porthole. Their gazes followed her, leavingMaldynado unobserved. “I’m not going to talk Sicarius into walkingout if your intent is to capture-or shoot-him,” she said.

“Suppose we take you prisoner and use yourlife to barter with the assassin?” Spectacles mused.

“That’d be a gamble on your part.” Amarantheleaned her back against the console, ostensibly so she could chatface-to-face with both men, but she was more interested in checkingon Maldynado’s progress.

He was leaning on one arm that happened torest on the wall near the weapons rack, but his quick headshakesaid he had not yet palmed the vials.

“The problem for you, gentlemen,” Amaranthewent on, “is that Sicarius doesn’t care enough about anyone in thegroup-about anyone at all-to risk himself on their behalf. He’slike that kraken out there.”

She twisted and leaned toward the porthole,gazing up as if she had spotted the beast. The men leaned forward,too, no doubt worrying their prize kraken was idling about insteadof terrorizing the marines.

Amaranthe thought about signaling toMaldynado to sneak up on the men and bash them both on the backs oftheir heads, but practitioners seemed to be good at sensing bodilythreats.

“Sicarius is pragmatic and practical and outfor his own interests. He’ll crush you if you inconvenience him.”She faced the men again and, in her peripheral vision, sawMaldynado nod once. She hoped it meant he had the vials, not thathe agreed with her assessment of Sicarius. “Don’t let greed leadyou to disaster,” Amaranthe urged the practitioners. “Money isn’twhat brought you here in the first place, is it?” In truth, she hadno idea, but it sounded like a promising guess.

“Our research requires funds,” Spectaclessaid. “Ultra modern mobile labs don’t build themselves.”

“Why do you need to be mobile?” she asked,figuring the more they chatted with her, the less likely they wouldbe to hold a knife to her throat as part of a bargaining ploy.

The men’s lips grew flat.

“Your research isn’t sanctioned by yourgovernment?” Amaranthe asked, her tone not one of accusation. No,she gave them her bestbrotherhood-of-folks-beleaguered-by-oppressive-government-policiessmile.

“You could say that,” Spectacles said. “Mostof our funds won’t come through until we deliver the babies, andthat’s a long-term project, obviously.”

Babies? What were these people doingdown here?

“A project that will be more difficult tocomplete without Litya,” Spectacles added.

The quiet man whispered something in a stringof vowel-rich syllables. A warning not to reveal so much? Whateverit was, both men scowled at her. Litya must have met the sharp sideof one of Sicarius’s daggers.

“Out of curiosity,” Amaranthe said,pretending not to notice their flinty stares, “were you hired ortold to come here by a group called Forge?”

The men exchanged sharp looks.

“We have Turgonian customers, but your peopledidn’t fund our mission,” Spectacles said.

That…wasn’t quite what she had asked. Thatthey recognized the organization told her much though.

“Forge is just a client, then?” Amarantheasked.

Spectacles shrugged. “Who in Turgoniacouldn’t find a use for a child gifted enough to win at theImperial Games or excel on the battlefield? That’s the only way tojoin your archaic aristocracy, is it not?”

Amaranthe said nothing. Was that whatthe miners had been planning? If they combined funds to buya son who could one day gain entrance into the warrior castethrough merit, the parents would share the family honors: land,entitlements, access to the emperor. Though businesses had broughtcommon citizens many opportunities, no amount of money could buywhat the warrior caste received as a birthright.

Something clunked against the hull of thevessel. A flash of light appeared outside the porthole, and amassive boom coursed through the fortress.

Amaranthe grabbed the console and managed tostay upright, but Spectacles tumbled to the floor, cracking hishead on the seat. A wailing reminiscent of an injured bird startedup, creating a cacophony as it competed with the ongoing alarm. Therangy man gripped the console with both hands, and his eyes closedto slits as he concentrated on something.

Maldynado crept toward Spectacles. Amaranthenodded, thinking this might be a chance to subdue these two.

From his hands and knees, Spectacles flunghis fingers outward. An invisible force hurled Maldynado back, andhe hit the wall with a resounding thump. His helmet dropped fromhis hands, hitting the floor with a clatter. He slid down the walland onto his backside, then slumped into a stunned heap.

Amaranthe bit her lip. Maldynado looked likehe would survive, but if his crash had cracked one of the vials,they might all end up unconscious.

“I’ll thank you to keep your bodyguard by thedoor,” Spectacles growled. He had his feet under him and wasstraightening his jacket.

“That wasn’t necessary,” Amaranthe said. “Itold you we’d work with you if you release my men.”

“That brutish behemoth was going towork my face into the floor.”

“Brutish?” Maldynado had recoveredenough to manage an indignant tone. “Brutish? I’m a child ofthe warrior caste, descended from generations of noble warriors anddistinguished matrons of exquisite manners and taste. I’m nobrute.”

“I’m sure he was only coming to help you,”Amaranthe told Spectacles.

“Er, yes.” Maldynado staggered to his feet.“That’s right.”

“Stop blathering,” the rangy man said. “Thehull has been breached in the upper port wing. I’ve closed it offfrom the rest of the Areyon, but if we take on too muchwater, we’ll never be able to leave the bottom of thisAkahe-forsaken lake.”

“It’s time to accept your losses and escapewhile you can,” Amaranthe said.