Deadly Games ee-3 Page 11

  “Yes,” he said.

  She touched his sleeve when he knelt besideher, and her fingers met the familiar scratchy wool of an enforceruniform. She wore hers as well, the only article of clothing shehad retained from her old life.

  “Did you…uhm, where’d you find it?”Amaranthe had asked him not to maul anyone for a uniform, though hedid tend to do things his own way.

  “Clothesline.”

  “Oh, good.” Her hand bumped an enforcer-issueshort sword hanging from his belt. He had not found that ona clothesline, but it was a typical part of the uniform, so shedecided not to ask. She wore one, too, as well as handcuffs. Shepointed at the window she had identified earlier. “I think I’vespotted the wife and children. Maybe we should…interview herbefore the husband gets home.” Yes, “interview” sounded friendlierthan interrogate. “She might know what he’s up to. I can talk toher, see what I can learn, and you can snoop and see what you canlearn.”

  “Too late,” Sicarius said. “The husband hasarrived. Or an enthusiastic lover.”

  “Huh?” Amaranthe lifted the spyglass to checkon the flat again, but jerked it from her eye as soon as the scenecame into focus. “Ugh. I don’t want to walk in on that.”

  “They’ll stop.” Sicarius started for thedrainpipe leading to an alley below.

  “Maybe we should wait until they’re done,”Amaranthe said.

  “Why?”

  “I’m sure he’ll be in a better moodafterward. Would you want to be interrupted in the middleof…stoking the furnace?”

  He said nothing. He probably thought itridiculous to worry about such a thing.

  “We’ll just wait here and…” She groped fora way to pass time that would not make Sicarius balk. Chat? No.Draw a grid and play Dirt Defender? No, not enough light. Emulatethe people across the street? Hah. Sure.

  “Watch?” Sicarius said when her silence wenton.

  “What? No! I used to arrest people forthat.”

  Grunts drifted up to the rooftop. The lovershad clambered out of their window and were undressing each other onthe fire escape. That was one way to avoid waking the children,Amaranthe supposed. Though the neighbors might not appreciateit.

  “We could discuss the team uniform,” shesaid, joking.

  “The what?”

  “Maldynado thinks we should have a teamuniform.”

  The long silence that followed said plentyabout his opinion of the idea. She collapsed the spyglass, tuckedit into a pocket, and moved away from the edge of the roof so shecould not be seen from the fire escape. “We’ll just take our timegetting over there,” she said.

  “The plan?” Sicarius asked.

  Yes, it would not be as easy for him to snoopwith two adults in the room. “Back to the original.” Amaranthepatted a pocket that held a forged document neatly folded intoquarters. “It seems we have the magistrate’s permission to searchthe premises.”

  “If they recognize one of us?” Sicariusasked.

  “I doubt they will. Miners don’t get muchtime off to roam the city and peruse wanted posters.”

  “If your source is correct, this onedoes.”

  “We’ll adjust the plan if need be,” shesaid.

  “It would be far simpler to go in, grab him,and force him to answer questions.”

  “Sicarius…” Amaranthe hung her head.“Sespian is never going to want to get to know someone whosesolution for every problem is torturing people. I know it’sefficient, but I don’t think he’s someone who can respect a man whoisn’t humane.”

  “Humane,” Sicarius said flatly.

  “Yes. At least in one’s actions. Nobody canbe judged for what’s in his thoughts, eh?”

  “And the humane thing to do is todisguise ourselves as enforcers and lie to these people to obtainanswers.”

  Er, she hated it when she was trying to bemorally superior and someone pointed out that her idea was onlyslightly less sketchy. “I think it’s a…humane option, yes. If allgoes well, nobody will be hurt. Is it ideal? Perhaps not, but Idon’t know of an ideal situation. I’m beginning to think ourcircumstances preclude those. But maybe it’s always been that way.If the legends are anything to go by, being a hero doesn’t meanbeing perfect. Being a hero means overcoming those imperfections todo good anyway.” There that sounded plausible. Or pompous. Was shetruly comparing the two of them to the great heroes of old?“ Anyway, I think Sespian is far more likely to admire someone whoeschews the easy solution, however efficient, in favor of the onethat does no harm. I’m sure of it.”

  Sicarius said nothing at first, and shewinced in anticipation of a cold reaction. Surely thephilosophizing of a twenty-six-year-old woman could only make himsnort in derision. Inwardly anyway. He would never deign to be thatexpressive outwardly.

  “I see,” Sicarius finally said. “And areyou?”

  “Am I what?” she asked. Her own thoughts hadsidetracked her.

  “More likely to admire someone likethat.”

  Huh. Did he care what she thought ofhim? Enough that he might make a humane decision instead of apractical one? For her? She found herself reluctant to test thathypothesis, for she might be disappointed-and hurt-if it provedfalse down the road. “I know it’s the nature of women to try andchange men, but you don’t have to do anything on my behalf. I’mjust trying to help with Sespian. In my arrogance, I think I’m morelike him than you are, and I may have more insight into what wouldmake him…interested in knowing you.”

  “Not arrogance. Fact. They’ve completed theircoitus. Let’s go.”

  Amaranthe blinked at his abrupt switching oftopics, but she recovered and jogged after him. They skimmed downthe drainpipe, waited for a couple of locals to enter the eatinghouse, and crossed the street to the apartment building. Sheslipped past Sicarius to open one of the double doors and stepinside first.

  Nobody occupied the shabby parlor, and halfof the gas lamps on the walls were out. She headed for a hallway atthe back. Doors lined both sides, and the staircase she sought roseat the far end. A faded gray runner had collected so much dirt, shebarely recognized the repeating sword pattern. She did know it hadbeen one of the early themes woven on the first steam looms, makingit a testament to the rug’s age.

  At the base of the stairs, she stopped nearone of the working lamps, intending to check Sicarius’s uniform.She trusted him to get the details right, but she needed to know ifhe had any rank pins or badges that would mark him her superior. Ifso, she would have to amend her spiel to pretend she was takingorders from him. But, when she saw him in the light, she froze andstared.

  Clad in the crisp, clean lines of a grayenforcer uniform, he looked…good. Handsome, yes, but heroic, too.Not like some assassin who lurked in the shadows, ready to jab adagger into someone’s back, but like someone noble who helpedpeople.

  It’s just fabric, girl, she told herself, butthe thoughts brought a lump to her throat nonetheless. What mighthe have been had his childhood been different? Normal.

  “Something inaccurate?” Sicarius asked.

  “No.” Amaranthe cleared her throat. “No,you’ve got it right.” She lifted a foot and placed it on the firststair, but paused again. “Do you-or did you ever want to besomething else? For an…occupation? When you were a childmaybe?”

  Anyone else would have given her a perplexedfrown over such a random question. He…gazed at her without a hintof his thoughts. Floorboards creaked in a room nearby. A muffledconversation went on behind a door. In the hallway, he neithermoved nor spoke. She searched his eyes. Did he spend even half asmuch time wondering what she was thinking as she did wondering whathe was thinking?

  “Never mind,” Amaranthe said. “I just meantyou’d be…believable as an enforcer.”

  She headed up the stairs.

  “A soldier,” Sicarius said quietly.

  Amaranthe halted. “You daydreamed of being asoldier?”

  “When it was necessary for my focus to beelsewhere, I thought of it occasionally.”

  He caught up with her an
d kept climbing,perhaps considering the conversation over. Focus to beelsewhere. As in to block out the pain of some torturouschildhood training session? He did not expound, and she did notask. She matched him, and they ascended the steps side by side.

  “Like Berkhorth the Brazen?” she asked,wanting to leave him with better thoughts than of some past need towill his mind elsewhere. “The third century general who was sogifted with a blade that an entire city surrendered en masse whenthey saw him walk up with a single squad of soldiers?” They roundedthe second-story landing, and she kept talking, warming to the ideaof Sicarius as the legendary hero. “The man so fearsome that noneof the soldiers guarding that city realized his squad was coveredin blood and wounds and had only a single, battered sword betweenthem because they’d just escaped capture and torture?”

  Sicarius slanted her a faintly bemused look.“Starcrest.”

  Her toe bumped a step, and she caught herselfon the railing. “Fleet Admiral Starcrest? Really? I picture youmore as a warrior general than a brilliant naval strategist.”

  They reached the third floor and anotherempty hallway.

  “You believe I lack intelligence?” Sicariusasked.

  Amaranthe jerked a hand up. “No, no.” It hadbeen some time since he had thrown a knife at her, and she did notwant to give him a reason to consider it again. “It’s justthat…ah, you lose to me three out of four times when we playStrat Tiles.”

  “Because you cheat.”

  “How do I cheat?” she asked, trying to readhis face to see if he was irked or merely giving her a hard time.She never should have given him permission to tease her.

  “You talk,” Sicarius said.

  “Talking isn’t cheating.”

  “It is when you seek to wheedle my strategyfrom me under the guise of learning from my greaterexperience.”

  She blushed. She hadn’t realized he sawthrough that so easily. Though it had worked.… Several times.

  “I should be flogged, no doubt,” Amaranthesaid.

  A rare gleam of humor entered his eyes.“Perhaps.”

  Amaranthe counted doors until they reachedthe flat she had been observing, the one she hoped belonged toRaydevk and his wife. The building could very well house otherfamilies with two young sons.

  She pressed an ear against the door beforeknocking; she did not wish to interrupt a second round oflovemaking. Voices murmured, male and female, the words too low tomake out. They did not sound ardor-filled.

  She knocked. Out of habit, she straightenedher uniform and patted down her bun. Looking the part of aprofessional enforcer might no longer be a requirement, but sometics failed to die.

  The door opened, and a moon-faced womanleaned into the gap. When she spotted the uniforms, her eyesbulged. Even a rookie could have interpreted the guiltywe’re-caught expression.

  Amaranthe stuck her foot into the gap, lestthe woman’s first instinct be to slam the door shut and lock it.The woman stepped back, but bumped against one of the piles offurniture, boxes, and clutter that were used to delineate separatespaces in the single room.

  “Peaceful evening,” Amaranthe greeted. “I’mCorporal Lokdon.” The name was sewn on her name tag, so she darednot change it, but she said it quickly on the chance the woman readthe newspapers. Amaranthe nodded to Sicarius. “And this is CorporalJev.” Or so his uniform said. “We have a few questions for yourhusband, ma’am.”

  “Who is it, Pella?” a man, presumablyRaydevk, asked. “One of the boys? They weren’t supposed to comeuntil nine.” He snickered. “Or is it old Ms. Derya complaining thatthe fire escape isn’t a suitable place for sex play? Again.”

  Since the woman-Pella-seemed stunned withindecision, Amaranthe pushed the door open. The smirk on theminer’s face dropped. He held a book-a journal? — in his hands, andhe hid it behind his back. Yes, the guilt hung in the air like smogaround a factory. Though that meant it was probably good that shehad come, it also made her fairly certain these weren’t themasterminds behind…anything.

  “Mister Raydevk?” Amaranthe asked. “We have afew questions for you.”

  “I’ve done nothing illegal,” he said.

  “Good.” She smiled. “Then we’ll be able tofinish quickly.”

  “Uh, right.” Raydevk eyed several of thecabinets and clothing-draped stacks. Seeking somewhere to stash hisjournal?

  “Mind if we come in?” Amaranthe asked.

  Sicarius invited himself in, slipping pastAmaranthe to stand inside the doorway. Pella stepped, no, stumbledbackward. Hm, Amaranthe might find Sicarius’s appearance heroic inthe uniform, but he still intimidated others. The cold unwaveringstare perhaps.

  “Thanks,” Amaranthe said brightly. Shestrolled in and displayed her warrant oh-so briefly to Pella.“Corporal Jev has orders to search the premises. I hope this won’tinconvenience you terribly.”

  “Search?” Raydevk’s voice squeaked. “Whatfor?” His eyes darted about in his head, searching again. Stilltrying to get rid of that journal? He focused on a credenza in acorner by a cook stove. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, thanks,” Amaranthe said.

  Regardless, he darted for the credenza,opened a door, and withdrew glasses and a bottle of applejack.“I’ll just have a taste, if you don’t mind.”

  Loosening one’s tongue was not a particularlygood idea for a liar-a possibly criminal liar-faced with enforcers,but Amaranthe saw no reason to object. Raydevk met his wife’s eyes,widening his own in some signal.

  “Why are you folks here?” Pella asked.

  “A group of miners has been implicated in aconspiracy against the athletes at the Imperial Games,” Amaranthesaid, trying to surprise reactions out of Pella and Raydevk. Shedid not truly expect these people to have much-if anything-to dowith the kidnappings, but one never knew. “The missing athletes, tobe precise.”

  Pella glanced at her husband and rushed tosay, “We don’t know anything about that.”

  Raydevk had his back to everyone, ostensiblypreparing a drink, but he froze at Amaranthe’s words. He jerked hishead at Pella and she burbled on, giving some story about the menwinning time off at a company lottery and simply going to the Gamesto relax.

  Amaranthe barely listened. She was watchingRaydevk. Still fiddling with his drink, he tried to hide hisactions as he set the journal on the credenza and opened it. Hecoughed to cover the noise he made ripping the top sheet off. Heused the movement of returning the bottle to a shelf to slip thatpage into his pocket.

  “Corporal Jev,” Amaranthe said. She trustedSicarius had seen the inept legerdemain and hoped he interpretedher head tilt as would-you-be-so-kind-as-to-retrieve-that-for-me.“Begin the search.”

  Sicarius gave her a hard look, no doubtwondering why they were dickering around instead of simply takingwhat they needed. She flicked her fingers, hoping he would playalong a little while longer. These people were not experiencedcriminals, and they would likely give her everything they knewwithout the need for force.

  “You’re not going to disturb the children,are you?” Pella asked.

  Amaranthe had forgotten they were sleepingbehind one of the walls of clutter. She trusted Sicarius with herlife, and she resented that doubt curled into her at the idea ofsending him in to deal with a couple of kids on his own, but whathe had shared of his history did not lead her to believe he wouldbe good with them. Granted, the order to dump decapitated heads onthe floor with five-year-old Sespian watching had been EmperorRaumesys’s command, but still.

  “We’ll check them last,” Amaranthe said.Together. She hoped Sicarius did not read the reason for herhesitation in her words. She trusted him. She did. She just figuredthat even at his most innocuous, he would scare children.

  “Mister Raydevk, where do you work? BlackPeak?” she asked while Sicarius went through shelves and drawers inthe room.

  “Yes.” He took a swig of applejack, though hehad appeared more relaxed before the alcohol touched his lips.

  Yes, Amaranthe definitely wanted that paper.“Then it�
��ll be easy enough to check up on this story about alottery and winners.”

  Raydevk froze again, the amber liquid to hislips. He recovered and shrugged. “I imagine so.”

  Pella scraped her fingers through her hairand chewed on her lip.

  “You and other miners have been seen at theImperial Games a number of days this week,” Amaranthe said. “Careto explain what you’re doing there?”

  “Just watching the athletes and enjoying mytime off.”

  Amaranthe decided to try talking aboutherself instead of asking questions. It might put the man at easeand make him more likely to slip with his comments. “It’s fortunateyou got that much time off. My father was a miner. He neverreceived more than a couple of days off in a month.” Though he hadonce come all the way into the city to watch Amaranthe’s race eventhough he had to get right back on a train to make it to work thenext morning.

  “He die young, did he?” Pella asked.

  “Yes,” Amaranthe said. “It’s a hard life, Iknow.”

  “Got that right,” Raydevk said.

  “Can’t blame people for wanting to bettertheir lot,” Pella said.

  “Is that what you’re doing at the Games?”Amaranthe asked.

  “I told you,” Raydevk said, quick to speakover Pella, Amaranthe sensed, “I’m just down there to enjoy my timeoff.”

  “I’d think you’d want to spend more of thattime with your family.”

  “Don’t you judge me.” Raydevk scowled andpointed a finger at her face. “I take care of my family realgood.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Amaranthe said.

  “Then what exactly are you accusing meof?”

  Sicarius paused at the curtain leading to thechildren’s sleeping area. His ear was cocked. Had he heardsomething?

  “The boys are sleeping in there,” Pella said.“No reason to go in.”

  Amaranthe could not tell if she was hidingsomething, or simply did not want enforcers scaring herchildren.

  Sicarius pushed the curtain aside. A five- orsix-year-old boy stumbled out and collapsed at his feet. Someonelistening at the “door,” apparently. Eyes round, the boy stared upat Sicarius.