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  “Are they here?” a young voice queried fromthe darkened sleeping area. Soft thumps sounded-bare feet runningacross a thin carpet. “Ma, you said we could come say, ‘Hello,’when Uncle Drovar came.” A boy younger than the first charged outof the room as he spoke, and he would have crashed into Sicarius’sleg, but Sicarius lifted his foot, removing the obstacle.

  When the boys realized they had strangevisitors, in intimidating uniforms no less, they grew quiet andslunk over to their mother. She lifted a finger, as if she mightsend them right back to bed, but Sicarius slipped into the vacatedarea. A light came to life. A good time to search, but Amaranthewished he would get her that note first. He would be a smootherpickpocket than she.

  “Mister Raydevk,” Amaranthe said, “you’re notaccused of anything yet, but it’s clear you’re not telling thetruth. If you don’t answer my questions honestly, we’ll beauthorized to take you to the magistrate for further questioning.Are you sure you don’t know anything about the missingathletes?”

  “I don’t know anything.”

  The older of the two boys left his mother’sside to peer into the sleeping area.

  “If you did know something,” Amaranthetold Raydevk, “and it led to the arrest of those who spawned theplot, it’s possible we could work a deal where your punishment waswaived.”

  Raydevk hesitated, but only for a second. Hespread his arms wide. “What would a miner have to do withkidnappings?”

  “I only said athletes were missing, not thatthey were kidnapped,” Amaranthe said. “How do you know someone istaking them?”

  “Er, I don’t. I mean, the newspapers saidthat, didn’t they?”

  “No.”

  “Just a guess, then,” Raydevk muttered.

  The boy peering into the sleeping area leanedin further. “What are you doing, mister?”

  His mother stepped around the younger one andstretched out a hand to grab him, but the boy slipped inside.

  “Do you want to see my models? I have animperial warship, the first steam ferry, and Da’s friend made me areplica of the city’s ice breaking ship.”

  Amaranthe figured Sicarius would ignore thequestions, but he was pragmatic to the point where he probablywouldn’t think twice about tying the boy up to keep him out of theway. She stepped toward the curtain to make sure nothing like thathappened, but knocks at the door made her pause.

  Raydevk cursed under his breath. His wifewinced.

  “Problem?” Amaranthe asked.

  “No,” Raydevk said. “Wrong address.”

  Nobody said anything for a moment, but thenthe knocks came again-multiple fists striking the wood. “Ray,what’s the hold up? You two entertaining the neighborhood from thefire escape again?”

  The wife’s face flushed red, and even theminer had the sense to appear mortified.

  “Why don’t you let that wrong address in?”Amaranthe asked. “Maybe they know something about the missingathletes.”

  “Come on, Ray, we have to go. Meeting startsin ten minutes.”

  “Meeting?” Amaranthe smiled even as Raydevkcursed. She supposed she should not feel pleasure at watchingsomeone’s lies falling apart, but fate usually tormented her, so itwas nice seeing someone else have trouble.

  “I…uh…I’ll just answer that,” Raydevksaid.

  He backed toward the door, watching her as hewent, and she sensed he meant to try something. He wore no weapons,but he might have one stashed in the flat. A small table with adrawer leaned against the wall near the door. Amaranthe easedbehind the sofa, figuring she could duck for cover if need be.

  Raydevk reached for the doorknob, though, notthe drawer. “You gentlemen will have to come back another time,” hesaid loudly without taking his eyes from Amaranthe. “There’s anenforcer lady here who’s talking to me about-” He flung the dooropen and darted into the hall. “Run!”

  Surprised, Amaranthe did not reactimmediately. The coward had left his wife to deal with theenforcers while he ran off with the boys? The wife gaped at theopen door, as startled as Amaranthe. All the men had taken off, andfootsteps thundered in the stairwell at the end of the hallway.

  “Si-Corporal Jev,” Amaranthe called.

  Sicarius strode out.

  “I need you to follow that…” The grinningboy riding Sicarius’s leg and clutching a toy boat made her pause.Well, Sicarius hadn’t tied the child up. That was good. “Our minersare off to a secret meeting. If you could extricate yourself, I’dappreciate it if you’d find out who they’re meeting and where.”

  Without a word, Sicarius unwound the boy fromhis leg, deposited him on the sofa, brushed past Amaranthe, andslipped out the window. He vaulted over the fire escape railwithout bothering with the ladder.

  “How come that man can’t talk?” the boyasked.

  “He can talk. He’s just not the chatty type.”Amaranthe eased around the sofa toward the door. She doubted Pellawould run off and leave her children behind, but there was no needto tempt her. As she was shutting the door, her hand brushed herpocket, and something inside crinkled. She slipped her fingers inand slid a piece of paper out-the note Raydevk had stashed. WhenSicarius had been close enough to him to retrieve it, she did notknow, but she itched to unfold it and read it.

  “My brother isn’t chatty either,” the boysaid.

  Conscious of the mother’s gaze upon her,Amaranthe slid the note back into her pocket. She would check itlater.

  “He liked my boat,” the boy added.

  Amaranthe wondered how that deduction hadbeen made if Sicarius hadn’t said anything. “I’m sure he did. It’svery nice.”

  “Marl, Denny, go back to bed,” Pellasaid.

  Marl, huh? Amaranthe wondered if Books wouldbe flattered to know a boat-loving toddler shared his name.

  “Where did Da go?”

  Pella dragged her hands through her hair. “Idon’t know. Just go to bed, please.” She shoved them toward thecurtain and sank down in a chair.

  Amaranthe thought that “I don’t know” soundedauthentic, but she perched on the sofa across from the woman,intending to find as many answers as she could. “Ma’am, mindanswering a few questions?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Her bleak smile held nohumor.

  “Not really, no.” Though she had a goodmemory, Amaranthe withdrew a notepad and a pen. It might help herappear official. “Do you know what he’s involved with? He’s notresponsible for kidnapping athletes, is he?”

  “No, no, he wouldn’t do that. I don’t evenknow why…” Pella shrugged. “I’m not sure what he’s up to.”

  “It’s strange that he’s home for the week,isn’t it?”

  “Yes, he never gets this much time off.He…I shouldn’t be betraying his trust to you, should I? A goodwife is supposed to keep the books and her husband’s secrets.”

  “You do know,” Amaranthe said, “that the lawno longer requires a woman to go to jail with her husband if he’sconvicted of a crime, right? Unless she’s found to be anaccomplice….”

  “I’m no accomplice! He shows up here, takesall our savings, and promises me it’s for the greater good. That wewon’t have to worry about anything in the future. That it’s worthliving in poverty today if we can live like emperors tomorrow. Idon’t know what I’m supposed to make of that. He won’t tell memore. Just says not to worry about it. I’ll have to work for ourreward, but it’ll be worth it in the end.”

  “You’ll have to work for it?” Amaranthetapped her pen against the notepad. That did not sound like agambling scheme. Unless Raydevk meant his wife would have to work,taking care of kidnapped prisoners. But, no, she did not know aboutthem, and some had been missing for days, so she would have beenrecruited by now if that were her task.

  “That’s what he said.”

  Amaranthe leaned back. A broken springbeneath the sofa cushion prodded her in the butt. Though she fearedshe would get little more information, she spent another fifteenminutes questioning Pella.

  “I’m not going to jail, right?” Pella ask
edwhen she walked Amaranthe to the door at the end. “Whatever he’sgotten tangled up with, it wasn’t my idea. I’m a good, loyalcitizen. I swear it. And my boys are, too. They need me.”

  A guilty twinge coursed throughAmaranthe-this woman had doubtlessly committed fewer crimes thanshe had. She forced a smile and gripped Pella’s shoulder.“If what you say is true, you’ve nothing to worry about from theenforcers.”

  Her husband was another matter.

  The building’s parlor remained empty, soAmaranthe stopped beneath a light to check the note.

  Two columns of names were written in sloppy,barely legible handwriting that an imperial code-breaker would havestruggled to decipher. She recognized three out of the five, andone of them was Sicarius.

  A chill ran through her. Had Raydevk knownwho Sicarius was all the time? He hadn’t shown any signs ofrecognition when Sicarius stepped through the door. And Raydevkhadn’t been that great at hiding any of his other thoughts. Surely,he would have given something away.

  Sicarius’s name was at the top of theleft-hand column, one with three entries in it. Deercrest, themissing wrestler, came under him, and Amaranthe did not recognizethe third. The top name on the second column belonged to Fasha’ssister Keisha. The other two looked like Borsk and Allemah.Maybe.

  Amaranthe pocketed the note again and steppedoutside. She debated whether to wait on the sidewalk in front ofthe building, return to the hideout, or go back up to Pella and seewhat her reaction would be to the name, “Sicarius.” Her gutsquirmed, knowing she had sent him off to spy on people whoapparently wanted him for some nefarious reason.

  She headed back into the building, adjustingthe stiff collar of her enforcer uniform as she climbed the stairsagain. It was scratching her neck more than she remembered-maybethe fabric was reminding her she no longer had any right to wearit.

  When she reached the flat and lifted her handto knock, the door stood ajar. Strange. She would have thoughtPella would lock everything up and put the children to bed afterthe incident.

  Amaranthe pushed the door open. Darknessshrouded the room, but she sensed what she would find even beforeshe brought in a lantern and searched. Pella and the children weregone.

  CHAPTER 7

  Basilard urged his legs to greater speed,though the darkness made the footing treacherous. He snorted. Evenby day, the footing was treacherous.

  He reached the end of the swinging platforms,leaped onto the last wall, pulled himself over, and dropped theground. He sprinted the last ten meters to the finish line.

  A soft clack sounded as Akstyr stopped thewatch. He held it up to one of the few gas lamps still burning.“Just over two minutes. Nice. You’re going to be a real competitor.Imagine how speedy you’ll be when it’s light enough to see.”

  It will be easier to avoid the swingingaxes, Basilard signed with a nod toward the dark, deadlyshadows swaying back and forth.

  Akstyr squinted, and Basilard could tell hestruggled to read the hand signals in the dim lighting. When Akstyrhad told Maldynado to take the night off, that he would work withBasilard on his “training,” Basilard had assumed the young manwanted to speak about Sicarius-perhaps he had some idea? — but thusfar Akstyr had not mentioned him. Basilard should bring it up. Thiswas his quest after all.

  As if sensing his intent, Akstyr whispered,“I was thinking about that powder. If it’s what I think it is….Am’ranthe tell you the details?”

  Basilard drew closer to the light, so hishand signs would be visible. Yes.

  “If we could get some…”

  A creak sounded behind them, and Akstyrjumped a foot, spinning in the air to face the sound. Themaintenance fellow who manned the obstacle course’s furnace strodefrom a doorway in the stone wall below the first tier ofseating.

  Akstyr chuckled nervously. Basilard touchedhis arm and nodded, indicating they should walk. The man would bepowering down the engine for the night anyway, so training wasover.

  You suggest finding the kidnappers andcolluding with them? To get some of the powder? The thought didnot sit well with Basilard. Though he had no reason to love theathletes attending the Imperial Games, he had no reason to wishthem ill either, and he did not care for the idea of workingagainst Amaranthe.

  “No, I wasn’t thinking about that.” Akstyrsaid, keeping his voice low as they walked. “Am’ranthe wants me togo investigate apothecaries tomorrow, to see if we can find out ifa local sells the stuff and if someone suspicious has been buyingit up. If I get a chance, I’ll buy some while I’m there. Then wejust have to figure out how to use it on Sicarius, and you can…”He sliced a finger across his throat.

  Basilard swallowed. Even if he was no longerthe model Mangdorian, he shrank from the idea of killing anunconscious man. But at the same time, he could not foresee downingSicarius in a fair fight. He had never even drawn blood when theysparred. Basilard had a measure of talent when it came to knives,but Sicarius had…erkt mahlay. That was the Kendorian termfor it, and one his people used as well. Literarily, snake blood.Figuratively, the ability to strike, not just with the speed of aviper, but with a snake’s utter lack of hesitation and remorse.Even knowing what he knew about the man’s crimes, Basilard wouldhesitate. He knew he would. Sicarius would not.

  Basilard massaged the bridge of his nose withhis thumb and forefinger.

  “You’re not backing out, are you?” Akstyrasked.

  No. I’ll do it.

  “Good.”

  * * * * *

  Amaranthe stood on top of the rail car, herback to the rising sun. A thousand metallic objects in the boneyardreflected its rays, and her eyes already ached from staring acrossthe expanse.

  Clanks sounded below her-one of the menclimbing up. The others spoke in low tones around the fire pitbelow. Basilard was cooking eggs, and the appealing scent waftingup should have pleased Amaranthe, but she was busy worrying.

  Books’s head poked over the top of theladder. “Breakfast is almost ready. A particularly fine one. Themen are in a celebratory mood because they got to sleep in andnobody dragged us off to exercise before dawn.”

  Great. Sicarius was missing, and that causeda celebratory mood. Maybe Amaranthe should have led an exercisesession, despite his absence.

  Books clambered up beside her. “No sign ofhim yet?” He nodded toward the metal-filled vista.

  Amaranthe shook her head once.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Books said. “He’salways disappearing to do…whatever it is he does when hedisappears.”

  “Not when he’s on an assignment for theteam.” Amaranthe sat down on one of the crates Maldynado haddragged up while claiming that a person could stand watch just aswell sitting down as he could fully upright.

  “He’s probably trying to fulfill hisassignment then. Perhaps he’s chanced onto something good and needsto observe it before reporting back.”

  “Perhaps.” Amaranthe rubbed her eyes. She hadlain awake most of the night, waiting for Sicarius’s return, and,as the hours had dwindled on, she had begun to question herself forsending him after the miners. They had seemed innocuous enough, butthat was before she read the note with his name on it. And beforethe family had disappeared, leaving her with no link to the miners.“I should have let him do it his way, Books.”

  “Would that be a way that involved killing,torturing, or otherwise maiming people?”

  “I bet he could have gotten the answers weneeded by applying force that didn’t do permanent damage.” Shepoked at a splinter of wood sticking out of the crate. “Instead Igot sanctimonious and said it would be better to fool the minersinto talking to us by dressing up as enforcers. If we’d done it hisway, we’d probably have been finished in ten minutes, and we’d knowwho we were up against by now.”

  “I’d be uncomfortable working for you if youchose his way very often,” Books said.

  “Well, my way isn’t getting the swordpolished.”

  “Why do you say that? We’ve accomplishednoteworthy tasks under your leadership.”

 
“Because we’ve been lucky. No becausehe’s gotten me out of trouble. My crazy ideas have almostgotten me killed a half a dozen times now, and I’ve landed thewhole group in dire situations more than once. My schemes seem sotantalizing and shiny when they first come to mind, and then I jumpoff the dock without checking to see if the lake’s gone dry. Ishould stop and get Sicarius’s opinion first-and listen to it andthink about it. I should get all of your opinions. What goodis a group if you don’t utilize everyone to his fullest?”

  Books grunted and sat on a crate oppositefrom hers.

  She eyed him. “This would be the appropriatetime for you to say something like, ‘Amaranthe, you’re being toohard on yourself….’”

  “Oh? I thought we’d had a conversation likethis before, and you told me the woman wants to rant while the mannods and grunts in agreement.”

  “That was a little different.” She tried tosmile for him, but could not, not when she remembered the eventsthat had led up to that conversation with him on a frozen dockoutside of a cannery. That night, Sicarius had helped her byslaying a squad of enforcers and her old partner. “You’re rightthough. Sicarius’s ways of doing things are too macabre for thegroup and our goals. But mine are…” She propped her chin on herfist. “What do you think, Books? I value your opinion.”

  “I don’t think we’d have accomplished what wehave without your ideas. Don’t get rid of them, and don’t stopbeing…”

  She waited for him to say “crazy.”

  “Creative,” Books said.

  Well, that was nicer than crazy.

  “But…”

  Amaranthe braced herself. She hadasked.

  “You lack prudence,” Books said. “I suspectit’s a combination of youth and the fact that, until recently, youlived your life under strict rules, first as a child obedient toyour father and your school teachers, and then as an enforcer,obedient to superiors and indeed in charge of enforcing lawsyourself. For the first time, you have utter freedom, and it’snatural for you to struggle to find a way that works. We all say wecrave freedom, but the truth is many people hang themselves withoutthe structure society imposes. Nobody’s done what you’re trying todo, so there’s no precedent, no guideline to follow.”