“Yes,” Sicarius said.
“That’s a resort area full of privately owned islands, isn’t it? Maybe someone’s having a meeting on their shiny new summer estate. I wish I’d thought to dig around for that information in Retta’s head.”
“Explain,” Sicarius said.
Amaranthe had been half talking to herself and had forgotten he was listening. “Retta, the person who set me free, used a Kyattese device-she called it a therapy stone-to dig out the information about you and Sespian. During the procedure, I also saw some of her memories. I’m not certain she realized it, but I know the names of the Forge founders now.”
Sicarius halted and touched her arm so she would do the same. “You did not share this information.”
“No, when I was doing my sharing last night, you distracted me with confessions of feelings.” Amaranthe smiled.
Sicarius did not.
Amaranthe spoke the truth-she’d been so worried about what his reaction would be to the information she’d given up that she hadn’t thought about her paltry discoveries-but now that Sicarius stood before her, expecting the list of names, she found herself reluctant to give it up. What if he pursued the mass-assassination tactic again? She didn’t want to have the weight of those deaths upon her shoulders, especially now that she’d learned that she knew one of the Forge founders. Ms. Worgavic wasn’t some goatee-stroking super villain from the tales of eld; as far as Amaranthe knew, she was someone who’d simply chosen a questionable route to a goal that, while perhaps megalomaniacal, didn’t seem to be willfully evil. It didn’t escape Amaranthe that someone else might very well apply that description to her and what she’d been doing in the last year.
“You will not tell me?” Sicarius asked.
“I’m… concerned that your response would be to hunt them down as you did the others, perhaps believing that cutting down Forge at the root would destroy the organization before your secret becomes public knowledge.”
Sicarius stared at her, his face a mask, his eyes giving away nothing, yet Amaranthe swore she sensed a mulish, “Yeah, so?” attitude beneath the facade.
“First off, I don’t think killing the founders would destroy Forge,” Amaranthe said. “The very fact that this meeting place is down here, close to the Gulf instead of up in the capital, makes me think the organization’s reach goes beyond the satrapy and maybe beyond imperial borders. The girl who used the therapy stone and learned to fly the Behemoth has a sister who’s been abroad for years, perhaps spreading the word about Forge and drawing in international allies. We can’t simply slay everyone who opposes us. I don’t want to create martyrs. The only solution that I can see making sense is a diplomatic one.”
Though he kept the muscles in his face from so much as twitching, a flare of intensity fired in Sicarius’s eyes at the word diplomatic. “These people have been trying to kill Sespian.”
“I know, but this goes beyond Sespian. And beyond you. We need to figure out how to get everyone out in the open for negotiations.”
“They will not negotiate with us. Other than the limited ability to threaten their lives, we have no power with which to manipulate them.”
Unfortunately, Sicarius was right about that. Unless they succeeded in spying on this meeting and some weakness was revealed that they could exploit.
“Give me time. I’ll come up with something.” Amaranthe shrugged and waved a hand, implying-she hoped- that she already had ideas and he had no need for concern. Strange, after all they’d been through, that she still felt the need to oversell herself to Sicarius. Or perhaps not. Just because he’d admitted he appreciated her didn’t mean he wouldn’t attempt to slay every Forge member at this meeting, in an attempt to end it all in the most efficient, if barbaric, way possible.
After staring at her in stony silence for a long moment, Sicarius took out his pen and the letter. He pressed the page against a tree so he could add another line at the bottom. Before Amaranthe could creep close enough to read the addressee, he finished and returned everything to his pockets.
“It is imperative that we reach Markworth as soon as possible.” Sicarius brushed past her, taking the lead this time.
“So that we can catch up with Forge or so that you can post your letter?”
“Yes.”
Amaranthe shook her head and forced her sore limbs into a semblance of a jog so she could catch up. It crossed her mind to offer to give him the list of founders in exchange for a chance to read the letter. Her conscience wouldn’t forgive her if he used the information to assassinate people, though, so she’d have to keep wondering whom he wanted to turn into a new pen pal.
Chapter 16
After two days of laborious travel, the swamplands finally gave way to sycamore, oak, and sweet gum trees. The Forge trail Amaranthe and Sicarius had been following turned onto a broad road kept clear of foliage and debris. Part of the old imperial transportation system and therefore built in an era that predated steam vehicles, the worn highway featured flat stones set into a cement-and-sand-based mortar. It lacked the smoothness of the vehicle- friendly paved aggregate highways radiating from Stumps to all the borders, but it had the same quality of being too hard to offer signs of passersby.
“We’re not going to be able to track them on this, are we?” Amaranthe asked when Sicarius returned from one of his side trips to forage.
“If they leave the road, I’ll see it.” Sicarius said.
Unless more roads of a similar style crossed this one, allowing one to walk without leaving tracks.
“If their destination is one of the islands on Lake Seventy-three,” Sicarius added, “we won’t be able to track them into the water, regardless.”
“Maybe you should go ahead.” The thought had crossed Amaranthe’s mind numerous times that day, but this was the first she’d spoken it aloud. She didn’t want him to leave her side. Every time a twig snapped in the woods, or something scurried through the undergrowth beside the trail, she flinched like an abused dog anticipating a kick. Though she knew Pike was dead, she kept imagining him lunging out of the brush and dragging her off for another round on that table. If not him, some other sadistic bastard. They were foolish thoughts-she was armed now, after all, and she could take care of herself if she wasn’t ridiculously outnumbered-but the imagery persisted nonetheless. “You can travel twice as fast, find them, see what they’re doing, and come back to get me if there’s time.”
“Twice?” Sicarius asked.
“Sorry, was that insulting? I meant to say ten times as fast. Without breaking a sweat or breathing hard. I’d add without mussing your hair as well, but… ” Amaranthe eyed his tousled locks. Sometime when she had been sleeping, he’d scraped away the beard away and washed off the road grime, but his hair beckoned for attention. “Are you ever going to let me cut that for you? Just a trim. To even out the edges?”
Sicarius laid a bunch of berries in Amaranthe’s hand. “You are regaining your humor.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it? Proof that all the highly nutritious food you’re feeding me is doing its job to rekindle my strength and witty personality?” Amaranthe kept walking as she spoke, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate delays for pointless conversations.
Sicarius fell in beside her. “I will remain with you.”
Amaranthe supposed she couldn’t be offended that he’d chosen to answer the more pertinent of her questions, though she was determined to cut that hair someday. “I appreciate your presence-more than you’ll ever know, I suspect-but I’d hate for my slowness to cause us to miss this opportunity.” She popped one of the purple berries into her mouth, appreciating a hint of sweet beneath the tart.
“Meetings on how to take over the world are not over quickly,” Sicarius said.
The light response made Amaranthe pause. “Was that a joke, or are you speaking from experience?”
Sicarius gave her a sidelong look. “Yes.”
Someday Amaranthe would learn not to ask him two questions at once. “Even if a meeting between numerous powerful and opinionated people will require many days, you might want to be there ahead of time to
