peruse a chapter of his torture book. Meanwhile, tremors coursed through Amaranthe’s naked body, and blood dripped down her sides to pool beneath her back and legs.
“Don’t you have that book memorized yet?” she hated how weak her voice sounded and, thanks to swollen lips, how muffled the words came out. It was the first she’d spoken that day. She wondered how much longer she’d have the energy for it.
“Nearly so,” Pike said around a bite of apple.
It disgusted her that a man could nosh away while a human being lay spread out before him, bleeding and mutilated, but Amaranthe ignored her feelings. She needed to figure him out, to get in his head, and suss out a way to escape before she was too weak to use an opportunity if it arose. She’d hoped Retta might be her way, but the girl hadn’t been back since they’d landed. Nor had Ms. Worgavic returned. Pike was the only human being she’d seen of late, and his humanity was questionable. Still, he was the only one with whom she had to work.
“Why do you care?” Amaranthe asked.
Pike strolled to her side, still munching. His black clothing was neat, unstained, and unwrinkled, and, not for the first time, his similarity to Sicarius bothered her.
“Ms. Worgavic set the rules I was to abide by,” Pike said. “I will not break them.”
“You’re from the warrior caste originally, right? Why would you obey a common-born woman?”
“I’ve been promised the position of Commander of the Armies should we succeed in putting Lord General Marblecrest on the throne.”
Amaranthe closed her eyes. She didn’t know Maldynado’s older brother, but anyone who would employ a torture-aficionado as his right-hand-man couldn’t be good for the empire, not the empire Sespian wanted, one where the nation tried to make amends for past evils and pursue diplomacy over war as it went forward. The odd thing was that there could have been a place for strong female entrepreneurs under Sespian’s regime. But Forge, perhaps accustomed to negotiating with Hollowcrest and Raumesys, must have chosen to strong-arm Sespian instead of working with him.
“You do not approve.” Pike smirked. “You’re not good at hiding your thoughts. I’m surprised you’ve lasted so long without telling me what you know about Sicarius. I’m even more surprised Sicarius inspires such loyalty in you. Or is it fear?” He cocked his head. “Are you worried about what he’ll do to you if you betray him?”
Amaranthe had wanted to take charge of the questioning herself, but Pike’s words made her pause in consideration. Maybe it was odd, or overly optimistic, but she wasn’t afraid of what Sicarius would do to her. She was more concerned about disappointing him. She didn’t think he’d hurt her physically-she believed they were past that-but he might walk away, never to be seen again. That’d hurt more.
“If that’s the case… ” Pike leaned closer and stroked a finger along her abdomen. “I’m sure we can arrange protection for you.”
Amaranthe wanted to thrust his hand away and punch him in the nose, but the pins through her wrists denied the possibility. The slightest twitch of a finger roused pain. “Forge can’t even keep him from killing its own members. You’d best worry about arranging your own protection.”
For the briefest moment, Pike paused, his finger frozen where it touched her rib. He recovered and withdrew his hand, then shrugged and took another bite of the apple.
That hesitation inspired Amaranthe to try a new angle. “If you’re correct, and the emperor does mean something to Sicarius, do you truly want to be on the team that kills Sespian?”
“ I’m not the one who’s been hired to kill the boy.”
“Nor, I suspect, were those thirty Forge people that Sicarius slew. It doesn’t matter to him. Guilt by association. And you’re associated. Also, judging from what you told me about the time you spent with him in his youth, I can’t imagine he harbors a great affection for you.”
Pike didn’t respond. Though he’d chomped the apple down to the core, he’d grown quite interested in it.
“As a boy,” Amaranthe continued, “he was indoctrinated to obey Raumesys and Hollowcrest, and I imagine that extended to his… instructors. But, last winter, he killed Hollowcrest, so he must be over any loyalty he once felt.”
Pike’s gaze sharpened as it fastened onto her face. “Did he? Kill Hollowcrest? From what I’ve heard, nobody’s sure what happened in that mansion.”
“Sicarius broke his neck with his bare hands. I was one of the few witnesses.”
“Interesting.” Pike seemed to have forgotten he was in charge of the interrogation, or that there was even one going on. Good. Amaranthe was about to speak again, but Pike whispered to himself, “So, he’s taken out Raumesys and Hollowcrest.”
Raumesys? Sicarius had killed the old emperor? He’d mentioned secrets that Amaranthe didn’t know about, but she hadn’t guessed that one. “Nobody from his old life is safe,” she said. Better to pretend she knew all of Sicarius’s secrets and had an advantage over Pike. “I don’t think he appreciated his upbringing.”
Pike snorted. “No doubt.” Despite the snort, he looked pensive.
“Unless you two became buddies after your years of tormenting him.”
“Oddly, he didn’t find my company stimulating.”
Amaranthe hadn’t expected anything else, but she found comfort in the flippant comment. It would have disturbed her to find out Sicarius’s boyhood tormenter had become a friend later on, once they’d been… peers in the emperor’s employ. In her heart, she believed Sicarius could have been a good man if he’d been born into another world, another life, but it was hard to maintain that belief at times. The neat checkmarks in Books’s journal, denoting those he’d killed, still sent a chill through her.
Thoughts for another time. She had Pike answering questions. Best to press while she could.
“I’m not certain Sicarius knew you were still alive or around the capital,” Amaranthe said. “He does now.”
Pike tossed the apple core onto the floor.
“We’ve landed somewhere, haven’t we?” Amaranthe asked, ignoring the refuse, though the silly part of her that preferred cleanliness wanted to admonish him for littering. “It’s possible Sicarius has followed your craft and is waiting somewhere out there for you. Did you know he’s familiar with this technology? He’ll be able to find a way in here.”
Pike’s eyes flickered in surprise, but it only took him a second to regain his poise. “Even if that were true, we’ve come across hundreds of miles of unpaved wilderness since we picked you up. He couldn’t have covered the ground that quickly, assuming he had any idea where we were going. Even Sicarius can’t track a bird.”
“Perhaps not, but he’s relentless. If he’s not waiting for you today, he’ll be there tomorrow. Or the next day.” At that moment, Amaranthe wanted to believe that more than anything.
“Enough.” Pike gripped her thigh, fingers digging into a wound where he’d flayed the flesh away earlier.
A fresh wave of agony washed over Amaranthe, and she sucked in a pained breath. It was a warning, and she ought to heed it, but she had to plant a seed in Pike’s mind before he went back to his work. As soon as she recovered enough to speak, she panted out, “You needn’t live in fear of him. If you… were to release me from this… unpleasant incarceration, I could speak to him… on your behalf. He listens to me. I could get him to spare your life.”
“Because I’ve so obviously left you in the mood to do me favors,” Pike said.
“Put yourself in my position. Wouldn’t you do anything, agree to anything, to escape?”
“Nice try.” Pike rested his elbows on the table and leaned in close. “If you want to end this, tell me what the emperor means to Sicarius and why.”
“No.”
“If you die before you share the answer-and it’s a distinct possibility as my salve can only heal the same flesh so many times-it won’t matter. The Forge people are smart. They’ll figure it out eventually. They’ll figure it out and use the knowledge to kill or otherwise unman him. They’ll put Ravido on the throne, and I’ll have the position I should have had long ago.”
Pike strode out the door without applying her salve. Amaranthe had a feeling nobody was coming to put her in her crate-or heal her-that night.
Maldynado eased along the hulking length of one of the steamboat’s two boilers. Basilard crept behind him while Yara stood watch near the door. Ahead, the red glow of an open furnace shed light on the back half of the boiler room. Soft scrapes and clanks came from that direction. At least one person worked, stoking the fires. No
