straight. They were climbing slightly, and Amaranthe wondered if this might be a secret passage up the inside of the mountain, one that would take them all the way to some hidden entrance below the house.
“Are you sure you didn’t know about this?” Amaranthe asked Maldynado.
“Uh uh.”
“If this passage comes up beneath your bed, we’re going to have trouble believing you.”
“The only thing beneath his bed is a stack of smutty Lady Dourcrest books,” Yara said.
“That’s not true.” The crank stopped rasping as Maldynado stood straight, clunking his head on the ceiling. “Actually… that might be true. I was eleven or twelve the last time we came down here. That’s about the age I got curious about biological matters.”
“ Very curious if all the dog-eared pages are an indicator,” Yara said.
“Lady Dourcrest,” Books said. “Such erudite literature.”
“They’re sure to be classics,” Maldynado said, then poked Yara. “What were you doing snooping around in my room anyway? You must find me fascinating if you thought to research my childhood.”
Yara sniffed. “I was merely searching for secret passages, as I was instructed.”
“Continue cranking.” Sicarius’s voice cut through the chatter like a knife slicing butter.
Maldynado grumbled something and went back to work. The vehicle continued to climb, the light growing brighter as it advanced. The walls lining the fissure changed from the water-eroded edges of a natural formation to the jagged contours of something carved out by men. The passage straightened as well.
Without warning, Sicarius halted. Though they hadn’t been going fast, the abruptness threw Amaranthe forward in her seat, and she had to brace herself with a hand on the controls. An inch of air had appeared at the top of the viewing window. Uh oh. That meant the access hatch and a foot of the vehicle’s domed hull would be visible above the water if anyone was out there to see it.
“There are four people on a ledge,” Akstyr said, his voice stiff with the concentration he used for applying the mental sciences. “And a bunch of other things with us in the water.”
“ Things? ” Amaranthe asked, envisioning giant lake monsters.
“Inanimate objects, I think. Boats maybe. Or-”
“Submarines.” Sicarius pointed at something ahead and to the right of them.
The dark shape was hard to make out, but Amaranthe agreed that it might be the hull of a submerged vessel.
“Are the people armed?” Sicarius asked.
“I can’t tell,” Akstyr said. “Maybe.”
“There’s four of them and… uh… seven of us,” Maldynado said.
“Your counting skills are impressive,” Books said. “Are you volunteering to go first? Because we can only pop out of this sardine tin one at a time.”
“My job is to turn the crank,” Maldynado said. “I can’t be spared for target practice.”
A thump sounded on the roof. Sicarius leaped from the controls, somehow finding a spot to land where he faced the hatch. His black dagger appeared in his right hand, a loaded pistol in his left. The latter he pointed at the hatch.
Three bangs sounded. Not bangs, Amaranthe realized. Knocks.
“Do we answer that?” Books whispered.
“Uhm.” This was so unlike what Amaranthe had expected-not that she’d known what to expect-that she didn’t know what to say or do. She met Sespian’s eyes, wondering if she should defer to the emperor-or, more specifically, wondering if said emperor had a plan.
Sespian opened his mouth, but whoever was standing on the hatch spoke first.
“Go forward fifteen meters,” came a man’s muffled voice. “Then turn right after the black submarine and dock at the end of the row.”
Sicarius looked to Amaranthe instead of Sespian for instructions.
“Better do as the man says.” She waved him back to his seat.
“We’re not supposed to be expected,” Sespian murmured.
“Not cordially expected anyway,” Books said.
Sicarius pressed the pistol into Amaranthe’s hand and returned to the controls. As he maneuvered their craft, following the directions, other vessels came into view. Akstyr was right. They were all submarines. Or at least, all underwater conveyances of some kind. There was no uniformity amongst the eclectic designs, and Amaranthe had the sense of looking at custom furnishings in a woodworking show. Or perhaps, she mused, custom-designed yachts for the wealthy. What if everyone except Maldynado’s sister-in-law and those on the Behemoth had come down the river in these underwater crafts to ensure no one would witness their passing?
“Any reason why your sister-in-law wouldn’t have one of these?” Amaranthe asked Maldynado.
“She’s claustrophobic?”
“Are you asking her or telling her, you dolt?” Books said.
“Either way, I wasn’t talking to you.” Maldynado nodded to Amaranthe. “She is claustrophobic. There’s a family rumor about her being unwilling to, ah, service my brother on conjugal visits when he was a young LT staying in the barracks. She found the tiny rooms too constricting.”
“Thanks for the details,” Amaranthe said. “I think.”
“According to my network of trusted spies in the Imperial Barracks,” Sespian said, “Mari Marblecrest was the only one likely to be tracked. Perhaps everyone else did have submarines crafted for this meeting.”
“You have a trusted spy network, Sire?” Amaranthe asked, surprised he had managed to find allies amongst all the Forge infiltrators. “It’s good that you’ve been able to suss out loyal people and make use of them.”
“Actually… I’m the network. I spy by crawling through the old hypocaust ducts in the Barracks. In my socks. So as not to make noise.” Sespian studied the floor. “I haven’t particularly trusted my ability to choose loyal people since the debacle with Lieutenant Dunn.”
Amaranthe didn’t know if she’d met that lieutenant, but he might have been the one who’d tricked Sespian into entering Larocka’s clutches the winter before.
“We have arrived at the designated docking space,” Sicarius said.
Something bumped into their craft, rocking it to the side. If not for a control lever she could grasp, Amaranthe might have ended up in Sicarius’s lap.
“What was that?” Maldynado asked.
A dark shadow swam across the front of the craft, blotting out the view for a moment. It was too close to identify features, but the length made Amaranthe think of those eels Basilard had caught and frizzled up. Except this had been far too large to fit into a frying pan.
“The welcoming committee?” Amaranthe suggested.
Three more knocks struck the hatch. Maybe it was her imagination, but they sounded rushed and nervous this time.
“I’ll stick my head out first.” Amaranthe looked for a place to tuck the pistol, but her dress lacked a belt. She settled for tucking it into an apron pocket and wondered if any other mercenary in history had charged into battle wearing a farmwife’s smock. “If they’re expecting more people, maybe they’ll think I’m a Forge member arriving late.”
“Or they’ll recognize you and shoot you,” Sicarius said.
Amaranthe patted his arm. “Your cheery optimism always bolsters my spirit.”
Sespian snorted.
Amaranthe slipped out of the seat and grabbed the wheel that controlled the hatch’s locking mechanism. It squeaked as she turned it. A couple of footfalls sounded. Their greeter stepping off the hatch? There wasn’t much room for walking around on top of the sphere-shaped vessel.
Amaranthe opened the hatch an inch. “Hello?”
Their vehicle lacked a ladder, so Amaranthe would have to fling the hatch open before she could pull herself out. She didn’t want to expose the interior though. Maybe she could-
Hands gripped her waist, hoisting her until her head was level with the hole. That worked.
“Thank you, Basilard,” Amaranthe whispered.
“State your name,” a man said. A pair of shiny black boots waited to the side of the hatch.
“Retta,” Amaranthe said.
