probably.”
She gave him a sharp look. Yes, she understood now.
Maldynado supposed he could leave Books and the others to figure their own way onto the steamboat, but he had promised a diversion.
Basilard stopped and set the trunk down with a thump. He shook out his arms and rubbed his lower back. It wasn’t that heavy, so Maldynado knew it was a show.
He signed, Idea?
Basilard considered their surroundings. They were winding their way up the hill and had left the trees to walk across the open face of a cliff on the back side of the island. Its steep walls rose above and dropped below them. The guards couldn’t see them anymore, thanks to the topography, but the steam device clanked to a stop behind Basilard.
He finished his rubbing and stretching and bent to pick up the trunk again. He pretended to stagger under its weight, and stumbled a couple of steps to the rear. The wheeled sphere started to roll backward, but not quickly enough. Basilard stumbled again and accidentally punted the thing off the road and over the cliff. Never mind that a star brindle-ball player would have struggled to launch a projectile so far.
The device clunked on a boulder at the base of the cliff and bounced into the river.
Oops, Basilard signed with a wink.
“Nice,” Maldynado purred.
He opened the trunk and pulled out the tattered, grimy clothes people had been wearing before he resupplied the group with more suitable attire. After dousing them in lamp oil from his satchel, he wadded them up. He tied the bundle into a nice knot, lit it with the lantern, and tossed it onto a promontory below. It landed in the branches of a tree. Perfect. The rocks separating the promontory from the mainland ought to keep the rest of the island from catching on fire, though he supposed that’d make an even more engaging diversion.
He dusted off his hands. “Just enough of a problem that a few guards will need to check it out.”
Yara regarded Maldynado and Basilard with pursed lips. “When I first met you people, I thought Corporal Lokdon was the crazy lunatic who’d used her charisma to talk you men into haplessly following her. I see now I was mistaken; you’re all crazy lunatics, and you deserve each other.”
Basilard asked, Should we be offended?
“Careful,” Maldynado told Yara. “Basilard says he can do that with people too.” He pointed over the cliff at the spot where the device had disappeared into the river.
Basilard punched Maldynado in the arm.
Yara snorted and continued up the road, again striding ahead, showing no interest in waiting for her “fiance.”
“Whoever marries that woman is going to have his hands full.” Maldynado lifted the trunk and helped Basilard hoist it back onto his shoulder.
Or her hands, Basilard signed with his free fingers.
Maldynado scratched his jaw as they started up the hill again. “You suppose that’s the case? I have been perplexed by how resistant she is to my charms.”
Basilard did an impressive job of balancing the trunk without his hands, so that he could sign, I did catch her giving Amaranthe a speculative look when we were on the dirigible.
Maldynado stumbled. It was a good thing he wasn’t carrying anything. “You did?”
Normally, he wouldn’t mind the notion of two women running off together-indeed, in the past, he’d been known to encourage such activities so long as he could be involved in some way-but the idea of Yara being permanently unavailable chagrined him for reasons he had a hard time identifying. Before his chagrin set in too deeply, he noticed the mischievous glint in Basilard’s pale eyes.
“Oh, you’re just kicking me in the shin, aren’t you?”
Basilard flattened his hand against his chest in an unconvincing “who me?” gesture.
“That’s what I get for mistranslating your signs for people, I suppose.”
Basilard nodded once, then, as they strolled around another bend, he signed, I caught her peeking at you when you were sleeping.
“You did? When I had my shirt off to use as a pillow?” It’d been a bit chilly for shirtless napping, but one had to make sacrifices when trying to impress a woman.
Yes, it’s amazing how often you’ve been unclothed since she showed up.
“Pure coincidence.” Maldynado smiled, his self-esteem bolstered by Basilard’s revelation.
Beside him, Basilard slowed to a stop, his eyes toward the road ahead, or rather what was at the end of the road. It is a castle, he signed.
Yes, the massive structure possessed all the requirements, everything from massive stone walls cloaked with creeping ivy to a moat winding its way around the base of the structure. Lampposts with intricate wrought iron and glass frames lined the ground inside the moat, ensuring nobody would climb up those ivy-bedecked walls without being noticed. Further, Maldynado thought he spotted caltrops or something similar dotting the ground around those lamps. Above, guards in chainmail clanked as they strolled along walkways protected by crenelated parapets. Towers rose at each of the corners, complete with arrow slits, though modern breech-loading guns had replaced cannons and were perched on the roofs, poised to fire upon vessels coming up or down the river.
“It’s a castle,” Maldynado agreed, “but a lot of that pomp is for show. I’ve heard it’s a nice resort inside. There are heated mineral baths and massage stations all over the bottom floor. Each suite upstairs has its own dedicated butler.”
Does the structure predate the empire?
“You’d have to ask Books for the boring details, but I think the first Turgonian conquistadors set it up as a guard post to protect the route inland. Once they found gold and diamonds in the mountains around the Chain Lakes, they weren’t looking to have the Nurians or anyone else coming a-visiting.” Maldynado waved at double oak doors on the other side of a bridge stretched across the moat. “We better knock before someone starts to wonder where their mechanical spy went.”
Though Maldynado wasn’t intimidated by the castle itself, uneasy twinges assailed his gut as he approached the drawbridge. He dreaded a chat with Mari. He might not have volunteered to be disowned, but he hadn’t fought it either. No longer having to attend family gatherings had been a relief.
Basilard pointed at the moat. Two crimson eyes stared at them from the surface of the water. It seems the alligator stories are true.
The stories didn’t mention glowing eyes, Maldynado signed, thinking of the tainted creatures the team had encountered while seeking the makarovi-infested dam.
More magic. We had better pay close attention inside.
Because you’re the help supposedly, my sister-in-law will ignore you. You might be able to slip away and snoop.
Yara stood by the door, her hands on her hips as she waited for Maldynado and Basilard to catch up. They’d barely stepped off the drawbridge when she grabbed an iron knocker wrought into the broad ursine head of a grimbal and clanked it three times.
A clink-clunk emanated from behind the walls, followed by a faint hiss. The doors groaned open, revealing a brighter entryway than one would have expected from the grim stone exterior. Though the inner walls were also stone, they had been whitewashed. Gas pipes, also painted white, ran along the walls, powering countless lanterns and an elaborate chandelier dangling from a high, arched ceiling. Landscape and portrait paintings mounted between the light fixtures displayed a mixture of the straightforward unimaginative styles of the empire and more exotic and fanciful images from faraway lands. The signatures were all from historically significant artists, meaning the paintings had cost someone a fortune to purchase.
“Pretty,” Yara grunted in a tone that suggested she preferred the utilitarian decor of an enforcer office.
“Yes, but not so pretty as you, my lady.” Maldynado swept into a bow, figuring people would be observing them by now.
Yara looked like she might throw up, but refrained from telling him to stuff his compliments up his-
“Lord Marblecrest?” a man asked, stepping down from one of four stairways that tunneled into the walls, leading upward from the stone foyer. The slim, mustached butler wore an ornate blue suit choked with gold and silver trim and adorned with coattails one would have to be careful not to trip over. If he didn’t feel ridiculous in the
