“Should I feel flattered that so many people came out to capture me?” Amaranthe asked over her shoulder. Since talking had always been her best way of gathering information, stirring up a conversation might be to her advantage. If nothing else, she wanted to know what had happened to Sicarius and the others. If this aircraft had succeeded in shooting down the dirigible, they could be wounded. Or worse.
Something hard pounded her between her shoulder blades. The pain, when compared to some of the injuries she’d received in the last twenty-four hours, was minimal, but the blow did cause her to stumble and bump into the men walking in front of her.
“Sorry,” Amaranthe said when one glared back at her. “Uneven flooring.”
The man’s over-the-shoulder glare continued for a long moment, and, as Amaranthe righted herself and resumed walking, she scrutinized him, trying to decide where he might have been recruited from. He had short hair, a clean-shaven face, and an athletic build, as did the other men escorting her. Soldier, her mind proclaimed, though she had no proof. They wore civilian clothing-factory-sewn wool trousers, sturdy cotton vests and dusters, and a variety of workman’s boots. None of the garments suggested uniformity, though her guards did have a tendency to walk in step with each other.
“Are you General Ravido’s men?” Amaranthe asked. She didn’t expect anybody to answer, especially not with the boss five feet away, but maybe she could surprise an eye flicker out of them, something that might confirm her guess.
Before that happened, Pike grabbed her elbow. Amaranthe expected another blow to land between her shoulder blades, and braced herself, but he yanked her back instead, then propelled her face-first into the wall. If she’d had her hands free, she might have caught herself, but without that recourse she smashed into the unyielding black alloy. Pain burst through her cheekbone. She bit her tongue, and blood flooded her mouth.
Amaranthe tried to pull away, but Pike leaned into her back.
The grip remained on her elbow, but knuckles or something else hard dug into a tender point near her kidney. She sucked in a pained gasp of air. Her first instinct was to squirm away, but there was nowhere to go. She tried to lift her leg for a backward kick, but his own legs trapped hers, forcing her knees against the wall.
Hot, fast breaths whispered across her swelling cheek. Had the effort taxed Pike? No, despite his age, rock hard muscles pressed against Amaranthe’s back. He was fit. He was just… excited. She swallowed and tried not to dwell on that idea, but his face came in close, beard stubble scraping at her skin. Fresh fear arose in her heart. All along, she’d been concerned for herself, but she hadn’t figured pain would be applied so soon. Surely, they should reach a nicely appointed torture chamber first?
“Too much talking?” Amaranthe asked, trying to sound brave, or at least unimpressed by the attack.
“Talking is allowed,” Pike said, his voice raspy from some old throat injury. Or maybe the promise of tormenting someone had excited him into hoarseness. “But only to answer questions. One question specifically.”
Again, Amaranthe tried to push away from the wall, but she couldn’t find the leverage. A detached part of her mind, the part avoiding thinking about Pike’s unpleasant closeness, analyzed the cool smoothness of that wall. It wasn’t porous like stone or brick, but it didn’t feel like metal either. It felt like the same material as Sicarius’s dagger.
Thinking of him reminded her that she should only have to endure Pike’s torment temporarily. Assuming her team had survived that crash-and surely they were too tough to die that way-they’d come looking for her. They’d find a way into this black behemoth, stick Pike full of daggers, and help her escape. She just had to survive until then. Then again, maybe her certainty was unfounded. The emperor needed help, and Sicarius… He’d admitted to caring for her, but Sespian was his son. Protecting him would have to be his priority. And, with Amaranthe gone, he’d likely take charge of the group. It was possible nobody would come for her. She tried to firm her resolve before the new thoughts could bring despair. If the team didn’t come, she’d simply have to escape on her own.
Pike mashed her harder against the wall, apparently expecting a response.
Amaranthe forced her aching jaw to move so she could ask, “What question might that be?”
“What,” Pike murmured, as if they were embracing lovers engaged in a tete-a-tete, “is the emperor to Sicarius?”
Though the question surprised her, Amaranthe kept herself from reacting outwardly. No amount of torture would make her give up Sicarius’s secret, but it would be better for her if Pike didn’t figure out there was a secret to be had. She found it encouraging that Pike wanted information on Sicarius and the emperor; that had to mean they’d survived the crash and eluded capture. She hoped the others had too.
“What are you talking about?” Amaranthe asked.
“After a year of simply reacting to Forge’s plans, last week, he slew as many of the members as he could reach. Days later, he risked his life, leading your team to kidnap the emperor. Why?”
Sicarius led the team? Amaranthe kept the thought to herself. Barely. The taste of blood in her mouth reminded her that arguing with the man had repercussions. If he thought she was some underling and Sicarius was in charge, things might go easier on her.
Fingers gripped the back of her head, nails digging into her scalp. Amaranthe had barely registered that pain when Pike rammed her face against the wall again. She gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. Blood flowed from her nose.
“You will find,” Pike said, “that prompt and truthful answers result in less discomfort.” He lowered his voice to a whisper to add, “Though I do not mind employing copious amounts of… discomfort to coerce information from you.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that,” Amaranthe muttered.
“Sicarius must have found out that the emperor wasn’t meant to make it back to the capital. For some reason, this prompted him to take aggressive action. What I want to know is why.”
Amaranthe felt her eyes widen, and she was glad the wall was the only thing looking at her face. All along, she’d suspected Forge had been planning to get rid of Sespian, a fact that had been confirmed when Books explained that the deadly neck implants were never intended to come out. What she hadn’t known was that they planned to act so soon. They must not need Sespian on the throne any more. They had a replacement ready. Ravido. Maybe that weapons shipment had been delivered so the general and his loyal soldiers could march into the city, take the Imperial Barracks, and declare the Marblecrests the new rulers of Turgonia. It wouldn’t be that easy- there were others who could legitimately bid for the throne, but it’d be hard to mount a campaign if Ravido and his men were already ensconced. And if Forge was a part of things, throwing its support behind him…
Emperor’s warts, what if all of her musings had already happened? What if, while she had been out of the city, Ravido had already been making his move? What if he already had the Barracks?
“You hesitate,” Pike murmured, “even though I hold you helpless. Are you foolish or loyal?”
“Both, probably,” Amaranthe said. “Look, the emperor sent us a note offering a hundred thousand ranmyas if we got him away from you. As far as I know, that’s all Sicarius was interested in.”
“Sicarius has never been motivated by money.”
“That might have been true when you knew him, but it’s been a while, hasn’t it? People change, even assassins. He doesn’t have anyone paying for his room and board any more. Maybe he’s tired of all the people hunting him and wants to escape our long, snow-smothered winters. Maybe he’s fixing to retire in some tropical paradise devoid of bounty hunters.”
There, that might give Pike something new to muse upon.
Hoping she had him distracted, Amaranthe tried to step away from the wall, to alleviate the pain of having her face ground into it. Pike’s hand, still tangled in her hair, dropped. The movement ripped strands of hair free, but that was the least of her concerns. His fingers wrapped around her neck. Panic surged through her limbs, urging her to fight. But, with soldiers everywhere, she couldn’t possibly escape. Besides, she told herself, trying to will calm into her body, Pike wouldn’t kill her there. He’d stopped to pick her up for a reason. Logical though her thoughts may be, they failed to keep her heartbeat steady and unconcerned.
The strong, calloused fingers tightened around her neck. With his lips to her ear, Pike whispered, “I sense fear beneath your evasiveness. You know why Sicarius is protecting the emperor, and you will tell me.”
As the team hiked away from the lake, the trail turned into a road and the wetlands faded, replaced by farms and ranches. Sheep nipping at grass and weeds near the fences didn’t bother to lift their heads to acknowledge the passing of the emperor over all of Turgonia.
