A crunch sounded behind her.
Amaranthe turned in time to spot a man’s hat above a nearby bush. He was moving slowly, using his rifle to part the reeds and search for her. She dropped to her belly and wriggled beneath a briar bush comprised of a tangle of dense vines and small white flowers that emitted a putrid scent. Nestled amongst the leaf litter, she waited for the soldier to draw near.
Moments passed. Water-or maybe that was sweat-slithered down her spine. A black boot came into sight. It stepped over a bulging root and came down lightly, toe first. The soldier must suspect his prey hid nearby. Amaranthe resisted the urge to squirm deeper under cover. She dared not shake the briar bush now.
The boot drew even with her spot, and a second one joined it. Amaranthe pressed her palms into the moist earth, summoning what energy she could, hoping to spring as soon as the man passed.
He stopped. Amaranthe’s heart thundered against her ribs, trying to batter them into the soil. Maybe her legs were sticking out. Maybe he’d seen her tracks. Maybe-
The man continued past.
Amaranthe let him draw another two paces away, then scrambled from beneath the bush, lunged to her feet, and jumped, all in one motion. She landed on his back, one arm snaking around his neck at the same time as her other darted to his waist, snatching a knife housed on his belt. The man tried to twist and smash the butt of his rifle into her head. Amaranthe whipped the blade up to his throat first. She let it bite into his flesh, so he’d know the threat to his life was serious.
“Drop your rifle,” Amaranthe whispered in his ear.
The soldier’s head came up, and he didn’t obey. Maybe he didn’t like taking orders from a woman. Too bad. She pressed the blade in deeper. A rivulet of blood flowed down the steel edge. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t follow through with the threat, but she didn’t see how she could hope to escape if she didn’t eliminate her pursuers. Though the practical part of her mind thought that, she couldn’t bring herself to slice the man’s throat.
“Drop it,” Amaranthe said, trying to frost the words with iciness that would make Sicarius proud.
This time, the man complied. He tossed his rifle into the foliage where it clattered against a branch and rattled leaves. Amaranthe growled, knowing he’d done that on purpose, hoping noise would alert his comrades. Already, she felt vulnerable with her back to the swamp and no friendly eyes to watch it.
“What are you going to do, girl?” the man asked. “Sit there, with your legs wrapped around me all day? If you’d drop the knife, I wouldn’t mind breasts smashed into my back, but-”
The only warning they had was a soft rustle from ahead. A split second later, the alligator reared out of the reeds, twisting its body to snap its maw around the man’s thigh. With a powerful yank, the creature tore Amaranthe’s prisoner away from her.
She let go and scrambled backward. The soldier screamed as the alligator dragged him along the beach and into the water. It happened so quickly she couldn’t have helped him if she’d wanted to. One second, he was twisting and clawing at the ground, trying to find a way to pull himself free, and the next he disappeared beneath the surface. Water churned, then grew still, with only a few air bubbles floating to the surface to mark his passage.
“That answers my question,” Amaranthe whispered. “Yes, alligators eat people.”
Behind her, men thrashed through the undergrowth, pushing their way toward her location. Amaranthe grabbed the rifle and knife, and ran into the brush. Maybe she’d get lucky, and her pursuers would think the man had simply encountered the alligator without running into her. She doubted it.
Chapter 12
Dawn had come, though the fog shrouding the river made it seem like night still. Maldynado hoped the passengers all slept in, though he doubted that likely. Numerous people had heard that gunfight, and he expected that rumors were already flying about the steamboat. The officers had to be alerted. As he headed down to check on Akstyr, Maldynado could only hope Sespian had spoken to the captain and that the meeting had gone well.
On the hurricane deck outside of engineering, Maldynado slowed down, a hand going to his pistol. Someone’s legs were sticking out of the boiler room doorway.
Footsteps sounded behind Maldynado. He spun around. A balding man with a nightshirt flapping about his ankles charged toward him, a homemade spear raised above his shoulder. Startled-and weary from being up all night-Maldynado barely managed to jump out of the way. He grabbed the spear and used his foe’s momentum to fling him in a circle. The man dropped the weapon and caught himself on the wall. Maldynado snatched the spear and used it to force the man back to the railing. Though he felt bad about attacking someone in a nightshirt, he hadn’t started the brawl. He curled his lips into a snarl and raised the spear, as if he meant to run the man through. The would-be warrior cursed and flung himself into the river of his own accord.
Maldynado examined the “spear” more closely. It appeared to have been made from the frame of a lounge chair.
“You still have a problem,” came Akstyr’s strained voice from the doorway. He stood on the threshold, straddling the downed figure while thrusting one of his hands in the direction of a lifeboat.
A second man crouched there, this one wearing more clothing and carrying a better weapon-a pistol. The muzzle pointed in Maldynado’s direction. He gulped, glad that Akstyr was somehow holding the man in place.
“Take care of it, would you?” Akstyr asked. “I’m tired and not as good at this as usual.”
“Right.” Maldynado eased out of the line of fire before angling toward the frozen figure. He’d gotten used to Akstyr’s abilities-sort of-but it was creepy seeing a person stuck in tableau like that, and who knew if the man might throw off whatever shackles held him for long enough to get off a shot?
Gingerly, Maldynado plucked the pistol out of the frozen hand. He tossed it overboard, then hoisted the man after. “Let him go so he can swim.”
Akstyr already had. The man sputtered and splashed before the fog swallowed him from view.
“Been having an eventful time on stoker duty?” Maldynado asked.
“You got that right,” Akstyr growled. Together they tossed the unconscious man overboard too. He woke when he hit the water, sending a stream of curses across the river. “Two security men came running down to protect the engine room on account of passels of highwaymen over-running the steamboat. Supposedly they’re led by an impostor impersonating the emperor and shooting up the passengers because they mean to rob everyone.” Akstyr crossed his arms. “You know anything about that?”
“Less than you’d think.” Maldynado eyed the nearest stairwell, as if angry hordes of passengers might charge down it at any second. “I guess the emperor’s chat with the captain didn’t go well.”
“No kidding.”
“The captain probably assumed the real emperor wouldn’t sneak onto his boat in the middle of the night or have only one out-of-uniform enforcer sergeant for his personal guard. We… probably should have foreseen that.”
“Whatever. I’m off stoker duty now, right? You’ll need me to fight.”
Leave it to Akstyr to worry about himself first. Then again, Maldynado couldn’t imagine many tasks less appealing than shoveling coal. “Yes, let’s find the others before the masses get organized.”
“Are you really robbing people?” Akstyr sounded hopeful, as if Amaranthe’s usual plans were a touch altruistic for his tastes.
Maldynado thought of the tracking device in his pocket. “Not… exactly. But we did have a shootout in a suite upstairs.”
“Nice,” Akstyr purred.
Maldynado, concerned that there’d be more shootouts before the day ended, couldn’t muster as much enthusiasm.
• • •
Maldynado and Akstyr were jogging up the stairs to the deck where the officers were housed when a body flew over the railing above them. A captain’s blue hat fell off, revealing tousled gray hair. Bed-head was the least of the man’s problems. He flailed and cursed before disappearing into the foggy blanket covering the river where a
