been targeted? Is it all tied in with this new illness? That lot is on a river, maybe a river that feeds into the city’s water supply. I want to know what she knows.”
“She didn’t tell me where she lives.”
Amaranthe pointed at the paper stacks. “I thought you were a researcher extraordinaire.”
He rubbed his lips. “That is true…”
“You find out. I’ll check the men and see what my new disguise looks like-Maldynado picked it up before heading to The Pirates’ Plunder last night.”
“This should be good,” Books murmured as she walked out.
• • • • •
A breeze blew a rumpled food wrapper across the empty street. Sidewalks that should have been busy with workers running about on lunch break were sparsely populated. More than one business had its windows shuttered or a CLOSED sign hanging on the door. Books could not believe how quickly this “epidemic” had manifested.
With few trolleys running, he and Amaranthe had to bike to the upscale urban neighborhood at the base of Mokath Ridge, a task she found difficult in her “disguise.” At least, he assumed that was what the frequent invocations to dead ancestors signified. The curses may have been for the disguise itself.
A flamboyant white-brimmed hat with a dangling tail of mink fur perched atop her braided hair. Her low-cut blouse revealed…a lot more than he was used to seeing from her. The short skirt hugged her thighs like a sausage casing, giving her legs little freedom for peddling. The short hem caught when they parked the bikes and got off.
“Don’t say it,” she said when Books opened his mouth.
“As you wish.”
“I assure you, I already discussed the inappropriateness with Maldynado, and I pointed out my thought had been to cover up more of my body rather than less, to which he said, ‘Yes, but nobody will be looking at your face in that.’”
“Possibly true.”
“I am grudgingly trying it until I have time to shop for something more my style. I did make a modification.” She untied a sash, revealing a hidden belt with a sideways knife sheath. “A spot for my sword would be better, but so few women carry them that it’s a suspicious accoutrement.”
“Yes.” He fought to keep a smile off his lips. “I, too, believe Maldynado would say it clashes with that outfit.”
“Wouldn’t want that.” She jammed the bicycle into a rack with more force than the task required. “At least you’re armed.” She nodded to his short sword.
Lucky him. “The address is a couple of blocks down the street.”
Books led the way down an old but well-kept cobblestone lane. Tall, narrow row houses rose three stories high on either side. One or two steam carriages were parked in the street, but most houses had bicycles secured out front. An upscale neighborhood, but not as drenched-in-ostentatiousness as the ones further up the hill where people looked down upon the city from their vast estates.
“Nice area.” Amaranthe waved at early spring flowers peeping from window planters and hanging baskets.
“Nothing I could have afforded as a professor.” Books and his wife had rented a small house near campus. The empire did not pay its educators well unless one happened to be a retired officer teaching at a military academy.
“Maybe she’ll let you move in with her.”
“Premature to speculate on such things. Though…I wonder if, ah… The directory only listed her name under the address.”
“Hoping there’s no lover, eh?”
“No,” Books said. “Well. Maybe.”
Amaranthe smiled. It was a gentle, warm smile, not an amused one, and he sensed she actually cared and would root for him to find happiness, even if it meant leaving the group.
She paused on a corner and laid a hand on his arm. “I am concerned though-did Sicarius tell you about their past?”
“ Their past?” Books stumbled and caught himself on the pole of a gas lantern. “They weren’t-I mean, he doesn’t even…” Dear ancestors, he did not want to think about Sicarius sleeping with a woman at all, much less one he had an interest in.
“No, no, I didn’t mean to imply…” Amaranthe lifted a hand in apology, though amusement quirked her lips. “She used to work for Hollowcrest at the Imperial Barracks, part of the intelligence department. She’s a cryptography expert, or she was, and she made ciphers for the empire during the Western Sea Conflict.”
“Oh, that’s actually… Well, naturally, I loathed Hollowcrest, but working for the Imperial Intelligence Network isn’t necessarily ignoble. Indeed, if she’s that smart, I am…further intrigued.”
Amaranthe’s smile broadened. “I love that you’d be interested in a woman because of her brain.”
“Yes, well, you haven’t seen her. She has other fine…attributes as well.”
She chuckled. “Of course.”
They circled a clunky statue towering in the center of the wide intersection. The bare-chested Darkor the Deathbringer held a sword aloft while a shoulder-high wolf stood beside him, water squirting from its maw. The address on one of the corners behind the statue matched the one Books had written down.
A snake wriggled a dance in his belly. Time to see her again. Would she be mad he had left her to the enforcers’ care the night before? Would she blame him for the explosion?
Stairs rose from the sidewalk to the front door. Amaranthe spread her hand, indicating he could go first.
Books paused at the front door, more worries churning through his head. He stared at the knocker, noting the handsome vine and leaf pattern comprising the heavy brass ring.
Amaranthe cleared her throat. “Knocking is usually Step One in these situations.”
“Yes, I’ve heard that.” Books drew back his shoulders and thumped the ring three times. As they waited, a new worry reared its head. He eyed Amaranthe-and her revealing attire. “If she’s here, can we say you’re my…” He groped for a relation that would suggest absolutely no sexual connotations.
“Daughter?” Amaranthe suggested.
“Dear ancestors, no. She’ll think I’m ancient. Er, my age, anyway. And what would she think of my parenting influence if she saw you in that outfit?”
“Did you just, in the same breath, call me old and promiscuous?”
“Uhm.”
Fortunately, her eyes twinkled as she waved at the door. “I imagine she would have answered by now if she were home.”
Amaranthe headed down the stairs.
Books knocked again. “We’re leaving? After riding all the way up here? I thought you’d want to snoop around even if she wasn’t here.” He tried the knob, but it was locked.
“Naturally, but invited guests enter through the front door for all to see. Snoopers enter through the alley.”
“Ah.”
Books followed her around back, where a fence contained garden beds with a few green sprouts thrusting through the loamy soil. He and Amaranthe let themselves through a gate and followed a stepping-stone path to a sturdy door. It too was locked.
“Keep watch.” Amaranthe delved under her sash and withdrew a small case of fine tools.
“I didn’t know enforcers were taught to pick locks.” Books put his back to the wall, so he could watch the side street and the alley.
“They’re not.” She slid two slender tools with crooked ends out of the case. “That particular deficiency in my education has proven inconvenient at times, so I asked Sicarius to teach me.”
“Are you sure you should spend so much time with him? He’s a dubious influence.”
Metal scraped as Amaranthe worked the lock. “You gave up the chance to play the role of my father
