constrictedthroat. She did not have long. If her attack failed…
Another charge exploded near by, and thecorridor rocked. The lights flickered. For an instant, the pressureon Amaranthe’s throat disappeared.
She gasped and jumped to her feet, forcingair-deprived legs to support her. She thumbed the only thing thatfelt like a switch on the smooth baton, and a six-inch flamestreamed from the tip. Amaranthe jabbed it at the invisibleshield.
The baton didn’t pierce the barrier, but theflame flared in a brilliant flash, startling the woman. Shebackpedaled, tripped over a fallen comrade, and crashed to thedeck. Something crunched beneath her. The tool?
Amaranthe dove in, hoping the shield hadfailed. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a dark shapearcing toward her-the male practitioner’s boot.
She flung herself to her belly, but hurriedto find her feet again as soon as the kick whispered overhead. Shedropped the baton and caught the man’s boot as he was retractingit. She sprang up, heaving his leg into the air. The man tumbledonto his back.
“Maldynado,” Amaranthe rasped through heraching throat. “Keep that one busy.”
He was on his back, panting, but he rolledonto his side to obey.
The woman had found her knees and was tryingto rise. Amaranthe planted a foot on her back-the barrier haddisappeared-and forced her flat on the deck. She snatched the batonand raised it, but paused. Maybe she need not kill anyone else.
She spotted the vial Maldynado had dropped,grabbed it, and held it to the woman’s nose. Already thepractitioner’s eyes were glazing and her struggles were weak, sothe effects of the powder must not have faded yet.
A thump sounded behind Amaranthe. She leapedto her feet and whirled, baton in hand, ready to thrust the flameup an attacker’s nose.
“Easy, lady grimbal.” Maldynado raised hishands over his head. The male practitioner lay at his feet,gasping- and inhaling-the lingering odor from the other vial.“You’ll need that for getting in if Sicarius won’t answer thedoor.”
“True.” Amaranthe lowered her hand, but shedid not relax until she had ensured nobody was in a position totrouble them. The practitioners all lay prone. One was snoring.Good.
“You might want to do it before this stuffwears off and these magic-spewing people wake up,” Maldynadosaid.
“Yes, but how do we know when the air isclear? We don’t want our men to walk out and pitch over,snoring.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing Sicarius snore,”Maldynado said.
“Do you want to sling him and Basilard overyour shoulders and tote them out of here?”
“I could. I’ve carried many women on thesebroad shoulders.”
“Many women at the same time?”
“On occasion, yes.” He winked.
“Just watch them, please.” Amaranthe noddedto the slumbering people and knocked on the hatch. “Sicarius?Basilard? You can come out now. We’re pushing the unconsciouspeople into neat piles.”
The clomp of footsteps came from around thecorner, and she winced. Maybe calling out had been foolish. Ifthere were still guards around, someone must have heard thatbrawl….
The people who tromped around the corner werenot guards however. Books and Akstyr led the way, wearing theirsuits but not their helmets. Seven, no, eight nude men and womentrailed them. More than one naked body sported smears of blood, andseveral people gripped knives or pistols. Books carried a familiarblack belt full of daggers.
Amaranthe lifted a hand, intending to warneveryone to stay back, but she
“What took you so long, Booksie?” Maldynadoasked.
“We took the tour and beat some heads in.”Akstyr grinned at one of the girls, but she showed no inclinationtoward returning it.
“Why are you wearing…?” Books started, butstopped to study the inert forms. “Should we
“I think it’s worn off.” Amaranthe unfastenedher helmet. “Tie these people up, will you? No, we need more thanthat. They can use their minds to choke us-as I have reason toknow. Akstyr, is there a way to keep them unconscious?”
“Shoot them?” Akstyr said.
“You’re supposed to be a Science advisor,”Books told him, “not a Sicarius acolyte.”
Maldynado cleared his throat. “For therecord, that would have been my response, too.”
“How surprising.” Books handed Sicarius’sknife collection to Amaranthe.
She struggled to hold all the blades and thebaton, so she settled for dumping them into her helmet.
“We can strap these bastards to the tablesand sedate them the way they did us,” one young man said.
“Can we cut them open, too?” anothergrowled.
Amaranthe grimaced, wondering what manner ofexperiments the practitioners had been conducting to create thosefuture warrior-caste babies. Thoughts for another time.
One of the young women caught her eye, a tallblonde with facial features similar to Fasha’s. She must be Keisha,the athlete whose disappearance had started everything forAmaranthe and her team. Keisha would need to know about hersister’s death, but now wasn’t the time.
She knocked on the hatch again. “Sicarius, ifyou don’t come out, we’re leaving you here.”
The athletes stirred and traded whispers of,“Sicarius?”
Something scraped on the other side of thehatch. Equipment or furniture being moved? Bangs, thumps, and morescrapes followed. A light poked through the perforations in thehatch.
Amaranthe crouched and peered through only tofind herself staring into a dark eye that gazed back from the otherside. She twitched in surprise, but did not draw back. Wasthat-
“Basilard believes we should have code wordsyou could speak so we would know if you were giving us legitimateorders or talking under duress.” Sicarius spoke the words asblandly as if they were discussing the men’s training regimen, andno hint that he had missed her or was relieved to see her seepedinto his tone.
By now, Amaranthe should have known betterthan to feel stung, but the emotion encroached upon hernonetheless. She pushed it aside and conjured a smile. “Basilard isa wise fellow. We’ll schedule it for discussion during the nextteam meeting.”
The eye disappeared, metal squealed, and thehatch tottered open on wobbly hinges.
Basilard exited first, his legs and feetbare, though he wore some guard’s fatigue shirt. He grinned andstopped to give Amaranthe a one-armed hug before moving on to greetthe others. Blood stained the back of his shirt.
“Basilard, did you get shot?” she asked.
The pain lines creasing the corners of hiseyes belied the statement, but they did not have time to performmore extensive first aid, so Amaranthe let it go.
Sicarius strode out, utterly naked except fora technical manual in his hands. He didn’t bother to wield itstrategically to hide…anything.
Amaranthe gaped at him. After a startledmoment of surprise, she forced herself to keep her eyes focused onhis face. Mostly. “Sicarius. I, ah…” Have always wanted to seeyou like this, she thought. No, she couldn’t say that. Waswondering if you were blond all over. No, definitely not that. “Ihope that’s not your suggestion for the team uniform,” she decidedon as she handed him his gear.
“The lack of a place to hold weapons makes itimpractical,” he said in his usual monotone.
Behind Amaranthe, Maldynado leaned close toBooks and whispered, “So many jokes the man could have made, and hegoes with that.”
Sicarius strapped on his weapons belt, which,combined with the throwing knives sheathed on his forearm, createda style that would have earned anyone else a round of mocking.Nobody made a comment.
Sicarius lifted the manual. “If the way isclear, we can adjust the ballast tanks to bring this craft to
