“Apparently.” Amaranthe pointed at the body.
“She’s from the capital. It’s unlikely her presence here was a coincidence.”
“Well, I didn’t invite her.” Amaranthe eyed Yara, but she couldn’t imagine the enforcer sergeant having anything to do with an assassin showing up. If Yara had meant to tattle on Amaranthe and the team, it would have been to her superiors, not a criminal. Nor was it likely Sicarius’s night of slaying had anything to do with it. Amaranthe feared they might have Akstyr to thank for the assassin’s appearance. Had she come to kill Sicarius? Or maybe she’d meant to collect on Amaranthe’s bounty. She was going to have a chat with the lad later. Maybe Books was right, and it was simply time to let him go. “We’ll worry about it later,” she told Sicarius.
Lines creased Yara’s brow as she eyed the stairs.
“Problem?” Amaranthe asked.
“I was entertaining the idea of staying here, turning that body in for the bounty, and going back home a hero for having helped slay such a notorious assassin. I suppose it’d be ignoble of me to take credit for any of that though. I doubt ducking when she threw a knife was crucial in her defeat.”
Amusement tugged at Amaranthe’s lips. It sounded like the sort of scheme she’d think up. Maybe there was hope to bring Yara fully over to her side yet. “You don’t want to leave when the emperor needs you.”
“No,” Yara agreed, lifting her chin, “there’d be no honor in that act.”
Sicarius had moved to the shadows near the chute, where he could look outside without being seen.
“We about ready?” Amaranthe asked.
“Yes.”
Below them, the corporal leaned the rake against a pile of coal and hopped onto the roof of the cab. From there, he jumped down onto the locomotive “nose” to one of the water tanks. So much heat rose from the metal encasing the engine that the air shimmered around the corporal. He checked a gauge, then waved to the water tower.
“That’s enough. Cut it off.”
A moment later, he pulled the thick hose out and screwed a brass cap into place. Amaranthe couldn’t see Basilard from her position, but the hose retracted, spinning onto a giant reel. The corporal skittered back to the coal car where a hill of the black rocks had formed in his absence.
He grabbed his rake. “That’s enough!”
Amaranthe and Sicarius closed down the chute.
“You should at least leave a business card,” Yara whispered from behind them.
“What?” Amaranthe asked.
“Your card. You could leave it on the body of the assassin, so someone would know you were responsible for bringing down a criminal.”
“If I left a card, the soldiers that found the body might blame that worker’s death on us.”
“But doesn’t it grate on you not to get credit?”
Daily, Amaranthe thought. “We’re used to it.”
Yara stared at her.
“If we can get the emperor to know we’re not villains,” Amaranthe said, “that’ll be enough. He can clear our names with a scribble of a pen.”
“And have statues commissioned in honor of our greatness,” Maldynado said.
“Nobody’s going to believe you’re great if they see a statue of you in that hat,” Yara said.
“Oh, nobody wears fur when modeling for a sculpture,” Maldynado said, “It’s too hard for the artist to get all the fuzzy strands to look good. I already have a statue hat picked out.”
“Dear ancestors,” Yara murmured.
Amaranthe patted Maldynado on the shoulder. His silence had been making her wonder if he was more injured than she thought. Maybe he only needed bolstering after being beaten up by one woman and criticized by another.
“Ready to go, sir!” the corporal called to the locomotive cab.
Everyone who had orders to board must have done so, for the boardwalk had cleared. Good. Nobody inside the train would have a good view of the coal shed or water tower-or the people leaping from them.
Two men in black uniforms wearing cutlasses and rifles trotted up to the locomotive and climbed into the cab. Both of them had to duck and turn their substantial shoulders sideways to fit through the doors.
“When you said soldiers,” Amaranthe told Sicarius, “I didn’t know you meant the emperor’s elite bodyguards. Men hand-picked to serve in the Imperial Barracks because of their martial prowess.”
“They are only men, as mortal as the next,” Sicarius said.
“They’re huge.”
“Huge men rarely move swiftly or with great agility. You know this.”
“Yes, but is that knowledge enough to keep me from tinkling down my leg when one of those towering behemoths swings a blade at me?”
Sicarius gave her one of his flat looks, reminding her that a tendency toward whining wasn’t an admirable trait in a leader.
“You’re right, it is enough,” Amaranthe said, “I was just making sure.” She’d hate it if she ever caught disappointment in one of his gazes.
Inwardly, she hoped the team would be able to stay hidden in the coal car until the train reached the pass and was forced to stop because of a certain landslide blocking the tracks. Then there’d be a nice distraction to keep some of those hulking soldiers and bodyguards busy, and she might not have to face any one-on-one.
A steam whistle blew again, and the train inched forward. Amaranthe drummed her fingers on her thigh. They needed to jump soon, but the corporal was still in the coal car, raking his piles into place. Normally, Amaranthe would appreciate someone with a fastidious nature, but right now she wanted the man to toss the rake in a corner and leave. Surely, he had a warm berth waiting for him in one of the passenger cars.
“We must go,” Sicarius said.
“I know.” The rail car was inching past them with the train picking up speed. A few more seconds, and they’d have to jump onto one of the passenger cars, and the soldiers inside were bound to hear kidnappers gamboling about on their roof. “Let’s do it.”
Sicarius went first. He didn’t drop straight down into the car, but leaped fifteen feet and landed on top of the corporal, a hand smothering the soldier’s mouth.
“Go, go,” Amaranthe urged the rest of her team.
She jumped and landed lightly in the coal, a foot from the back lip of the car. Maldynado and Yara dropped down beside her. They flattened themselves to their bellies. The passenger car behind the coal car didn’t have windows in the front, but it did have a door with a balcony. Anyone tall who stepped out to smoke or admire the night sky would be able to see straight through to the back of the locomotive. The coal level was only a foot below the lip of the car, so that didn’t leave them a lot of room for hiding. They’d have to undo the corporal’s raking and see if they could dig a hollow or two.
On her elbows, Amaranthe crawled toward Sicarius. As the coal car passed the water tank, Basilard dropped, landing beside her. He also flattened himself to his belly. The darkness precluded hand signs, but she squeezed him on the shoulder to thank him for his reliable efficiency.
“Overboard?” Sicarius whispered when Amaranthe joined him. He had the corporal subdued, face pressed into the coal.
“Yes,” she said.
The train was just starting to pick up speed, so tossing the man over the side shouldn’t hurt him much. Because the corporal had been irritating, a mischievous part of Amaranthe wanted to take off his pants and force him to run back to the station half-naked. Unfortunately-or perhaps fortunately — Sicarius dumped him over the side before she could voice the suggestion.
She listened for voices or any sign that the men in the cab had noticed, but all she heard was the chugging of the train as it picked up speed. Smoke blew back from the stack, clouding the air above the coal car. She could think of better things to smell, but at least it would help to camouflage her team.
“Let’s dig out places to hide,” Amaranthe said, careful to keep her voice low so the men in the locomotive wouldn’t hear, “so we’re not visible at a glance. Sicarius, do you want to scout via the top of the train? See if you can locate the emperor’s car?” She knew he could glide across the roofs without making a sound.