“The soldiers are waiting for a train that will take them to the capital,” Amaranthe said. “It seems someone murdered a bunch of prominent citizens, and reinforcements are being called in to protect Stumps and aid with the hunt of the killer.”
A moment passed before Sicarius said, “Understood.”
The single word gave away nothing of his thoughts, so Amaranthe tried to read the pause. Maybe it meant he regretted his actions, or at least realized he’d acted rashly and that there might be inconvenient consequences. Somehow she doubted she’d get him to admit it, even if that were the case.
“Do you think it’s odd,” Amaranthe asked, “that soldiers would be called in to deal with an assassin? I know they’ve hunted you before, but those were special missions, out in the wilds, weren’t they? Crimes in cities are almost always relegated to enforcers.”
“Yes,” Sicarius said.
“You’re answering both questions there, right?”
“Yes.”
“Have I mentioned how much I appreciate your garrulousness?” Amaranthe asked.
“No.”
“Good.” She touched his arm to make sure he knew she was joking, though something in the back of her mind-her father’s spirit perhaps-told her she shouldn’t be joking, touching, or even talking to someone capable of tearing through the city, killing dozens of people in a twenty-four-hour span. “I had an instructor in school, Ms. Worgavic, who had this saying, ‘In every crisis lies opportunity.’”
“You believe Forge is using my attack to bring the soldiers to the city for a scheme of its own?”
“The idea entered my mind, yes.”
He glanced toward the alley entrance. None of the others were in sight. “My only concern is getting Sespian to safety.”
Amaranthe tried not to feel irritation at the statement. It wasn’t news. Sicarius had never claimed to have an interest in helping humanity or saving the empire or anything of that ilk. In fact, he’d told her quite frankly that he didn’t. That he’d been letting her use him this last year only because they shared the goal of keeping Sespian safe. That Amaranthe had other goals too… She supposed that didn’t matter much to him. Though she knew it shouldn’t, the reminder stung.
“I understand that’s your main concern, but-” Amaranthe lowered her voice, “-I thought you hoped to become the type of person the emperor might wish to get to know.”
“That… cannot be the priority.”
“Oh, Sicarius.” She knew he was the last person in the world who would want sympathy-and maybe she was crazy to feel such emotions for him, knowing what he’d done in his life and of the questionable choices he continued to make-but it made her heart heavy to think of him never having a relationship with his son. “We’ll see what we can do about you getting a chance to deal with both concerns. But, in the meantime, I don’t want any more glares from you in regard to who I chose to add to my list of allies. It’d be premature for smugness on my part, but I don’t believe any of our complications thus far-” she waved toward the soldier-filled boardwalk, “-are a result of anything I’ve done.”
“Really,” Sicarius said dryly.
“Really.” Amaranthe smiled. “I know, I can hardly believe it either.”
Footfalls sounded at the head of the alley. Yara was striding toward them with Basilard and Maldynado hustling after her. Maldynado gripped her shoulder and said, “Wait until they’re done.”
Yara jerked away. “Unhand me, or I’ll collect on your bounty right now.”
Maldynado lifted both hands skyward.
“It’s all right,” Amaranthe said. “We’re done.”
Yara stalked up to Sicarius. “Who’d you kill for those uniforms?”
Sicarius regarded Yara with as much warmth as one might give a cockroach. A particularly invasive and pesky cockroach. “No one.” Sicarius jerked a thumb toward two inert forms farther back in the alley.
“We brought a number of gags, and I had a special wrist- and ankle-tying bands made,” Amaranthe said. The latter had come from Ms. Sarevic and were clever for their compactness and efficiency. “I told you the truth. We’re hoping not to injure anyone tonight.”
“We’ll see about that,” Yara muttered.
Amaranthe checked her pocket watch. “We better get started in a moment, but first, Yara, join me over here for a moment, please.”
Amaranthe knelt at the end of a loading dock and rummaged in her rucksack. She pulled out a mask and a canister of the knockout concoction Sarevic had made. When Yara joined her, Amaranthe held out the items.
“You should take these. You can use the canister to make those around you sleepy, maybe even pass out.” Amaranthe wished she’d tested them, but they were among the most expensive items Sarevic had made, and she couldn’t waste them. Besides, she couldn’t imagine a stupider way to die than by testing these on her men, causing everyone to lose consciousness, and then having a soldier stumble across their hideout and kill them all. That wasn’t the way she wanted to make the front page of a newspaper. “The mask will protect you from its effects.”
At first, Yara didn’t make a move to touch the items. Amaranthe could understand her reluctance. If she was captured and had the tools of guerilla kidnappers on her, there’d be no way for her to claim innocence. Honestly, that was part of the reason Amaranthe wanted Yara to take the items. It’d force her to commit. She also didn’t want Yara getting killed or dropping unconscious in the middle of the emperor’s car. That’d leave Amaranthe and the others with two bodies to tote outside.
“You’ve tested the mask?” Yara finally asked.
“Ah, sort of. We tested its ability to block out noxious fumes.”
A few feet away, Maldynado snickered.
“Let me guess who supplied them,” Yara grumbled.
“It was… a group effort. After a meal that involved a couple of cans of beans. Uhm, but anyway, that’s not important.” Amaranthe didn’t want to scare away their new teammate with further details. “I believe the mask works, and it would behoove you to keep it with you.”
Yara took the items. Amaranthe wanted to give her a few minutes to familiarize herself with them, but Sicarius said, “We should go now.”
Amaranthe almost said that five more minutes wouldn’t make a difference, but he was right. Books’s estimate was exactly that. An estimate.
“All right,” Amaranthe said. “You and Basilard know what to do. Maldynado, we have a coal shed to subjugate.”
“I love it when you say things that make us sound fearsome and formidable,” Maldynado said.
Amaranthe let Sicarius and Basilard go first. Before he crossed the railway, Sicarius stopped to rest a hand on the train tracks, and Amaranthe decided to wait for him. He glanced back at her and lifted a hand, fingers outstretched. Five minutes. Nerves tangled in her gut. The train was that close?
Sicarius and Basilard disappeared into the shadows between the lampposts, only reappearing when they had to stop before the well-lit door. Sicarius tried the knob. The door was locked.
Still hunkered by the corner of the warehouse, Amaranthe nibbled on a pinkie nail. Sicarius slipped a lock-picking kit out of a pocket.
Maldynado tapped her shoulder. Yes, they had to get on with their own part of the mission. She would trust that Sicarius could slip in before trouble noticed him.
“Stay close,” Amaranthe told Maldynado and Yara, then led the way toward the coal shed, trying to use its bulk to hide their approach from anyone at the train station.
Avoiding lampposts and their damning light, Amaranthe walked into the square fronting the refueling area. Here and there, her boots slipped on oil-slick bricks and grime. Incipient frost and damp leaves further complicated the footing. She’d hate to fall on her backside in front of Yara. That’d make it even harder to live up to Maldynado’s suggestion that they were fearsome and formidable.
She reached the coal shed without any embarrassing falls. She already had her lock-picking kit in hand, but the door wasn’t locked. It wasn’t even closed all the way.