was a small, flat glowing device attached to the top of the pipe. Men knelt on either side, tools out, trying to disarm it or perhaps pry it loose.
Amaranthe pictured the schematic from the control room. “That’s the pipe leading to the city.”
“Figures.” Maldynado had come up behind them. He was tall enough to observe over her head. “Those the makarovi down there?”
“Yes,” Sicarius said.
The shadows made it hard to count, and the great pipe hid the back half of the chamber, but Amaranthe guessed at least six beasts prowled, each one more than ten feet tall.
Without warning, one leaped. It made it to the top, but could not gain purchase on the smooth, sloping side of the pipe. It hung, claws squealing as it tried to dig in.
A soldier fired a rifle at its face. The creature dropped. It landed on its feet, shook itself like a dog recovering from a smack on the nose, then began stalking about again.
“I guess it does take a cannon to drop one,” Amaranthe whispered.
“I knew we were forgetting something,” Maldynado said.
“Though…if they can be drowned, we might not need a cannon.” She nibbled on a fingernail, thinking of Sicarius’s earlier words and the diagrams in the control room.
“Whatever scheme you’re concocting,” Sicarius said, “remember there are several down there. Several who will go after you first and be impossible to deter once they get your scent.”
“Funny they haven’t noticed her yet,” Maldynado said.
“Yes,” Sicarius said. “It must be the collars.”
Collars? Amaranthe squinted into the gloom.
A second makarovi leaped, hurling itself toward the soldiers tinkering with the glowing box. One man jerked back and almost fell off the opposite side of the pipe. Only a reflexive grab from his comrade saved him.
Three rifles fired, and the creature dropped out of sight again, but not before Amaranthe, watching for it this time, glimpsed the collar. Partially hidden by the shaggy black fur, the silver chain wrapped the makarovi’s neck like a choker.
“Now there’s a sexy look for the homeliest beast in the mountains,” Maldynado muttered.
“The collars are magical?” she asked, figuring they had found the multiple devices Akstyr sensed.
“Yes,” Sicarius said.
“Who’s there?” a soldier called. He faced the walkway, rifle gripped in both hands. The wan green light illuminated crossed muskets embroidered on his sleeve, the rank of a sergeant.
“Is it the enforcers?” another asked while Amaranthe debated how to answer.
“Did you get the rest of the garrison to come up here?”
“Ssh,” the sergeant said, his gaze never turning from Amaranthe and her men. “It’s too soon to be them.”
He lifted his rifle, not yet aiming it at her, but the barrel pointed at the walkway below her feet.
Sicarius tried to draw her back into the tunnel where the walls would protect them from fire, but she braced herself with a hand on the corner.
“We’re from the city,” she called. “Can we help?”
The snarls intensified below, and the makarovi shuffled closer to the walkway below her. Something seemed to stop them, though, some invisible pull. It drew them back to the pipe below the glowing box.
“Who are you?” the sergeant asked again, brow furrowed. “Random people from the city don’t know about this dam.” His finger flexed on the trigger.
“Maybe she’s the one behind all this,” another said. “Some witch who made these slagging contraptions.”
“No,” Amaranthe said. “We’re just typical imperial citizens, but we can help. We have weapons.”
“ We have weapons too,” one of the men fiddling with the box said. “They’re not doing much.”
“We are running low on ammo,” someone muttered, so quietly Amaranthe almost missed it.
“We talked to Sergeant Yara,” she said, hoping the soldiers would prove more amenable if she implied she knew their ally. “She said you needed help.”
“She told you to come in here?” The sergeant stared, mouth slack. “You know what these things do to women?”
“We saw,” Amaranthe said. Even as they spoke two beasts broke away from the pipe again and drew closer to her. Moist snuffles and smacking lips assaulted her ears. The creatures’ stench floated up, stronger than ever. “We have a man who may be able to disarm that device.” Maybe if they hurried back to the machine room, she could catch Akstyr before he went outside with Books and Basilard.
“Help disarm a magical device?” The sergeant scowled. “That’s an unlikely skill for ‘typical imperial citizens.’ Who are you?”
She hesitated. They might believe Sicarius ecumenical enough to help, but they would never let him. He was watching her, and he shook his head once when she met his eyes. All right, she would simply tell them her name. She could bring Akstyr out, and Sicarius could stay in the shadows.
“My name is-”
Sicarius gripped her arm. “Do not-”
One of the creatures below jumped and hit the bottom of the walkway. The floor heaved, and Amaranthe stumbled back. Claws slipped through the grating. One bear-like paw gripped the edge of the walkway. Sicarius stomped on it, then stepped back, joining her in the tunnel mouth.
His boot had no effect on the makarovi, and it continued to cling to the bottom of the walkway. Its lower half thrashed as it tried to pull itself up. Another creature jumped, banging its head. The walkway trembled and shuddered.
Maldynado brushed past Amaranthe. He lowered his rifle so the barrel poked through the grate, and he fired into the makarovi’s eye. The orb exploded, splattering liquid. The creature dropped. For a moment, the scent of black powder overpowered the animal stink.
Amaranthe expected-hoped for-the thing to die, but it rose again after it hit the ground.
“You better get out of here, woman,” the sergeant said. “These things aren’t fierce bright, but you might excite them enough to figure out the way from the lower level to the upper. And we don’t want them where they can jump across and get to us. We’ve got to…” He waved at the device.
While Maldynado reloaded his rifle, Amaranthe mulled. She could retrieve Akstyr to work on the device, but only if the soldiers allowed them onto the pipe. However Akstyr’s knowledge of magic would make him suspect in their eyes and perhaps earn him a quick death. She had to win the sergeant over somehow. If-
Sicarius bent over the rail, distracting her from her thoughts. He sighted down his rifle and shot a makarovi. The creature’s collar snapped, and the broken band clanked to the floor.
The soldiers murmured. Sicarius withdrew into the tunnel to reload.
“How’d he manage that shot in the dark? Who is that over there?”
Amaranthe was too busy watching the creature to answer. As soon as it was free of the collar, it bolted to her corner of the chamber. It jumped, claws scraping at the metal grating. Saliva flung from its jowls, spattering the wall. As soon as it fell, it leaped again. It snorted and whined in frustration, unable to reach its target-her. For the moment. If there was another way up…
For the first time, true fear clutched Amaranthe’s heart, and she had to fight to stay there instead of fleeing back outside. “Any particular reason you did that?” She meant her tone to sound casual, not terrified, but the last word cracked.
“To see if it was possible,” Sicarius said. “Without the collars, they’ll return to the wilds eventually.”
“ Eventually.”
“Look.” The sergeant pointed at the makarovi trying so hard to reach her. “It’s stopped being a guard dog for this ancestors-cursed contraption. It’s acting more like a normal hungry predator now. An agitated hungry predator denied its favorite food.”
“Lovely way to put it,” Amaranthe said.
“Sergeant.” One of the soldiers leaned close to his leader and whispered in his ear.
“We should try to get the rest of those collars off,” a corporal said. “It’ll be easier to figure out that device without those bastards leapfrogging over each other, trying to get to us.”
