Yara snorted, probably thinking Amaranthe was the last one to chastise someone about explosives. Amaranthe shrugged. She’d see for herself how things went if she had to command those two.
“ What will the rest of us be doing?” Sespian asked.
Amaranthe’s gaze slid toward Sicarius. He lifted his chin, and though his eyes wouldn’t think about twinkling with so many people in the room, his voice held a hint of satisfaction when he said, “Training.”
“ I’m glad I’m going with you,” Maldynado whispered to Yara.
The next night, Evrial leaned against the railing on the lower deck, using Maldynado to block the snowflakes blowing sideways down the river. Having a big, broad man around might have its uses after all.
“ I think we should go into the show.” Maldynado pointed to a poster hanging next to the double doors leading into the dining hall. It announced the circus troupe would be performing that evening, and couples were streaming inside. “We probably look suspicious loitering here.”
“ We’re not loitering, we’re standing purposefully,” Evrial said.
“ Huh?”
“ Never mind.”
“ It’s cold enough to shrivel the balls off a donkey,” Akstyr said from the other side of Maldynado. “I say we go inside too. I can let you know if their show has any unusual features, if you get my meaning.”
“ That’s a good idea,” Maldynado said, “don’t you think?”
Both men were looking at Evrial. How had she let Amaranthe put her in charge? “As long as nobody recognizes us.” She had her hood pulled up, something that was quite natural out on the snow-dusted deck, but which would draw attention inside. “Maybe we can stand in the back.”
“ Whatever you say, my lady.” Maldynado bowed and offered his arm.
Evrial decided it wasn’t worth arguing over hand holding when it was a ten-foot walk to the door. She linked her arm with Maldynado’s. He beamed.
Akstyr’s lip curled up. “Are you two going to pretend you’re engaged again?”
“ Yes,” Maldynado said at the same time as Evrial said, “No.”
“ Uh huh.” Akstyr’s lip curled up further, and he left them to stride into the hall.
Evrial was about to follow when two men approaching the door made her pause. She hadn’t been scrutinizing the flow of people, but almost every other pairing had been male-female. These two men had short hair, clean- shaven jaws, and Emperor’s warts, they were enforcers. Enforcers she recognized.
Evrial spun about, drawing Maldynado with her, and stepped back to the rail. She pointed at the bank. “Look, the snow is starting to stick. Do you think there’ll be enough on the ground to make a decent snow gladiator when we reach Stumps?”
Maldynado leaned close, shoulder-to-shoulder, and lowered his head to whisper, “Don’t you listen to any of the outlaw-enforcer drinking-house stories? You’re supposed to kiss the fellow you’re with when you’re trying to avoid someone’s notice. You know, to look like an amorous couple too engrossed in each other to be up to anything suspicious.”
Cold snowflakes landing on Evrial’s cheeks drew her attention to how warm they’d grown. “Enforcers don’t really fall for that,” she said.
Maldynado eyed the door over her shoulder. “I think they recognized Akstyr. I told him he should have flattened out that hair and put on a hat. Come on. They went in after him.”
“ They must remember him from the steamboat fight,” Evrial said.
Maldynado paused, his hand on the door. “Those are the same enforcers?”
“ Yes, it looks like everyone hopped the first ride back upriver.”
“ We already passed the town those enforcer boats originated from though. Unless it’s a coincidence? Maybe they were given medical leave after we thumped them so soundly.”
“ More likely they spotted one of us boarding and got permission to follow.”
“ Lovely.” Maldynado lowered his chin to peer through one of the portholes in the doors. “They’ve dimmed the lights.”
When Evrial opened the door, the susurrus of dozens of conversations flowed out. She stepped inside and almost crashed into someone’s back. The formal dining hall might be the largest room on the steamboat, but it seemed tiny that evening. Passengers filled every seat at the round tables, and more people stood along the walls, some stacked three or four deep in the back. Even with her height, Evrial had to stand on her tiptoes to glimpse the stage up front. Green-, red-, and blue-hued lamps burned up there, spilling colored globes of illumination onto the raised platform. Trampolines and other apparatuses awaited the performers. The ceilings were high, but not that high, and Evrial pictured a much more abbreviated show than usual. As a rural gal, she’d never been into the city for the circus, but she’d heard that the performers skated and performed most of their acrobatics on the ice.
“ Ouch.”
“ Erg.”
“ Terribly sorry,” Maldynado said, pulling Evrial in his wake. He apologized as he went but continued to elbow his way along the wall until he found a shady nook near a support pillar. People grumbled, but nobody attempted to stop him. The flames in the wall lamps burned so low that one couldn’t make out faces back there, but it was hard to miss Maldynado’s height and breadth.
More grunts and curses came from along the wall on the other side of the door. The enforcers pushing their way through?
As Evrial followed in Maldynado’s wake, she tried to spot Akstyr’s spiky locks. They needed to get him out of the room before the enforcers found him.
Drums started up somewhere behind the stage, and the conversations grew softer.
Maldynado found his nook and pulled Evrial into him, her back against his chest. Before she could decide if she wanted to protest this familiarity, he pointed over her shoulder toward a cluster of tables near the stage. The colored lighting illuminated those first few rows, revealing faces. Evrial groaned. Another pair of men occupied half of one table, men she also recognized from the steamboat battle.
“ Definitely not a coincidence,” she said. “Or medical leave.”
Maldynado sighed, his chest expanding against her back. “I suppose not. Though I’ll take some pride in that one’s eye, more precisely the sickly yellow bruise around it that hasn’t quite healed.”
“ Are you sure that’s one you thumped?” That whole event had been so chaotic that Evrial scarcely remembered specifics. “Basilard and I were defending the railing too, as you’ll recall.”
“ I recognize my handiwork.”
“ The bruise is on the large side. It might match your fat fingers.”
“ I’m not sure whether I should reject the notion that anything on me is fat-stout or muscular perhaps, but not fat-or simply be pleased that you’re developing a sense of humor.”
“ We’ve discussed this. I’ve always had a sense of humor. You people just aren’t funny.” Evrial thought she glimpsed someone with a prickly ridge of hair making his way along one of the side walls toward the stage. “Is that your man? Or just someone with a hat stranger than most of yours?”
The drumbeats increased in speed and intensity, and Evrial didn’t hear Maldynado’s answer. It sounded indignant though.
“ Welcome to this special showing of our traveling circus,” a voice rang out, amplified somehow to echo throughout the dining hall, “in which we shall entertain, mystify, and impress you with feats of dexterity and skill. We’ll follow this with a theatrical reenactment of the infamous Drunken Valley Battle from the Second Border War.”
“ That should prove interesting on that tiny stage,” Maldynado said. “I’m surprised they’re performing here at all. Their usual milieu is a frozen lake.”
“ It’s probably how they’re paying their way.” Evrial leaned to the side, trying to track the movement of the figure she thought might be Akstyr. “Did you just say milieu?”
“ Dear ancestors, I believe I did. What a dreadful word. I’ll have to thump Books later. He’s the only one who would have cursed my vocabulary with such an addition.”
“ Make sure to smack him in the eye, so I can compare his bruise to the one on that enforcer, and see if your stout, muscular fingers truly can claim that blow.”
For a moment, Maldynado didn’t respond. She hadn’t offended him, had she? That hardly seemed
