One of the other men snarled something at her through his gag. She wouldn’t have recognized the word if she hadn’t heard it from enforcers so often. “Traitor.”
Amaranthe held back a wince. She knew better, and she hoped the rest of the world would one day too. A part of her was tempted to explain the weapons and how she and Sicarius were trying to help, but she didn’t want to leave the entrance unguarded for long. She left without responding and circled back to check on the dining hall.
A thrum ran through the decking. The engines starting up? Great. There’d be more people coming back on board as the steamboat prepared for departure, and it’d be even harder to move the weapons undetected.
Amaranthe headed back to the grate. Sicarius was pulling himself out of the cubby.
“ No other exits,” he said, “but there’s a thin bulkhead that way.” He pointed toward one side of the dining hall.
“ Engineering is in that direction, isn’t it?”
Sicarius nodded. “With a blow lamp, one might punch a hole through and slip out that way.”
“ Except that we don’t have a blow lamp. And engineering isn’t going to be unmanned.”
“ I’d rather make a stand in there than in here.” Sicarius eyed the confines of the wooden stage. “Sespian and the others would have an easier time finding us as well.”
“ All right,” Amaranthe said. “Do you want to stay here and guard the men while I see if I can find a-”
“ Sarge!” came a cry from the dining hall.
Footsteps thundered in the aftermath of the shout, many footsteps belonging to many people.
“ See if they’re in there,” a second man called, this one with an older, more authoritative voice. “Surround the stage.”
Amaranthe deflated. Someone must have found the enforcers on the roof. Or located the schematics. Or both. It was too late to fetch any tools or move the weapons.
Sicarius bolted past her, knives in each hand. Amaranthe feared they’d lost the opportunity to merely gag and tie people. They’d have to defend themselves-and access to those weapons-any way they could now. Trusting Sicarius to guard the entrance, she rushed about, extinguishing lanterns. No need to make it easy for those on the outside to see inside. She swung by the enforcers to check on them one more time-the last thing they needed was enemies attacking at their rear as well as their front-but no one had succeeded in freeing himself yet. She blew out the last lantern, one of several the men had brought down for their search. Darkness descended upon the back half of the stage.
Another thrum ran through the deck, this time followed by the sensation of movement. The River Dancer was leaving dock. Amaranthe hoped her men had made it back on board in time. If they hadn’t… She shook her head, refusing to accept the notion. She and Sicarius needed help.
CHAPTER 9
Late in the afternoon, Evrial and Maldynado crested a hill and found themselves overlooking a port town nestled in a riverside hollow. Two wooden docks thrust into the waterway, one empty and one…
Evrial winced. The River Dancer was there, but the dock crew was untying the ropes tethering it to land. Plumes of smoke rose from the twin stacks.
“ Come on,” she barked to Maldynado.
“ We’ll never catch it,” he said.
Evrial chopped her hand downward. They had to try. Amaranthe and the others had to know about the magical contraband and the threat it represented to the capital. Her jog turned into a sprint as she raced down the road heading into town. Though hungry, cold, and tired from the day’s trek, she willed her legs to new speed. She took deep breaths to fuel her muscles, inhaling the scent of damp leaves and wood-burning fireplaces as she passed log cabins and brick houses on the outskirts of town. At one point during the sprint, it occurred to her to wonder when she’d come to care so much about warning outlaws of danger. She growled and told herself it was Stumps and all of its citizens that concerned her.
A steam whistle blew, the screech drowning out the sounds of machinery and hammer blows coming from factories sharing the waterfront with the docks.
“ That means they’re departing, you know,” Maldynado called.
He was keeping pace with Evrial and didn’t sound winded in the least. Was she slowing him down? It stung her ego to think so, but he did have six inches on her, and there was no denying his fitness. “Can you… catch them? I’ll… give you the journal. You can… run ahead.”
He thumped her on the shoulder. “Nah, we’re sticking together. We’ll catch them in the next port if we have to.”
“ Next port is… Sunders City. More than… three days… by foot.”
The road widened as they entered town proper, and Maldynado pulled up to run by her side. “I’m sure we can acquire alternate transportation if we need to.”
Evrial glowered at him. “We’re not-” her toe caught in a rut, and she had to flail for balance before finishing, “-stealing anything.”
“ Better watch the road,” Maldynado said cheerily.
A few pedestrians paused to watch as he and Evrial sprinted past, but nobody called out or tried to stop them. Back home, Evrial would have found such a fast-moving pair suspicious and given chase. She hoped the enforcers here weren’t as well-trained-or paranoid.
Another whistle blew. With buildings on either side of the road, Evrial could no longer see the river-or whether the steamboat remained at the dock. She sprinted around a pair of donkey carts loaded with wood and into a four-way intersection. A glance to the left revealed the waterfront. Without waiting to see if Maldynado was still with her, she took off, barreling past candle shops and general mercantile stores. When she reached the cobblestone street fronting the river, she raced straight to the second dock. She was halfway to the end before her footsteps faltered. The steamboat’s stern paddlewheel churned water fifty meters upriver.
Chest heaving as she sucked in air, Evrial slowed to a stop. Her wounded shoulder screamed at her, annoyed at all the vigorous exertion, and probably at the fact that she briefly considered sprinting up the bank and trying to catch the boat north of the town. A few stout trees that had survived loggers’ axes perched along the edge, their bare branches stretching over the water. But the steamboat was already pulling away from the banks and into the center of the river.
“ Cursed ancestors,” Evrial growled.
Maldynado tapped her shoulder.
“ What?” she snarled.
Maldynado drew back. “Drat.”
“ What?” This time, Evrial wrenched her gaze from the steamboat and looked at Maldynado.
“ I thought we’d reached a new stage in our relationship, one where you don’t snarl and growl at me.”
“ That wasn’t at you. It was at the world in general. You were just nearby.”
“ Ah, but I’m a helpful part of the world. As evinced by the fact that I’m drawing your attention to these lovely enforcer boats tied up at the next dock.” Maldynado pointed to a pair of sleek black vessel identical to the ones that had attacked their steamboat on the way downriver.
“ We’re definitely not stealing those.”
“ Steal? We could simply borrow one and leave it tied up on the bank somewhere once we catch up with the steamboat.”
“ Borrow without asking?”
“ You don’t think the local enforcers would actually let us take one, do you?” Maldynado asked.
“ No, and that’s why it’s stealing, you dolt.”
Maldynado sighed. “How quickly the ladies forget their whispered terms of endearment from the night before. Listen, it’s for the greater good, right? If we don’t catch up and warn the others before the troupe unloads its cargo and disappears into Stumps…”
Evrial held a finger to his lips and nodded toward the waterfront. A pair of enforcers was walking up the
