She laid one finger on his wrist and turned her face toward him, so he’d know it was a question. He pressed two fingers against her wrist, then released her and disappeared over the side of the coal car.
Amaranthe figured he was going to skirt the outside, crawling along the moving train like a spider to come up behind the soldiers. She had better plan to handle the lead man.
Across from Amaranthe, Basilard and Maldynado had risen to crouches. Yara, back against the wall, looked like she meant to stay out of the way. Probably a good plan. Amaranthe waved to her men and pointed toward the locomotive, though she wasn’t sure they’d see the gesture in the poor light.
Coal crunched a few feet away, near the front of the car. A man came into view above Amaranthe’s hill of coal. Clad in the black uniform of the emperor’s personal guard, he loomed, a dark shape against the cloud-filled sky, his shoulders wider than a meter stick, his neck as thick as an oak tree. He had to be seven feet tall.
Crouched so low her butt skimmed the coal, Amaranthe hoped the shadows hid her. And she hoped she could surprise the guard. Because Maldynado and the others were farther back, she should move first. Out of habit, her hand drifted to her sword, but she caught herself. They were subduing people without injuring them here. That had to be the goal. That and not being crushed by the behemoth.
A second guard stepped into view. Correction, Amaranthe thought, two behemoths. They walked one after the other down the center of the coal car, unaffected by the wind or the train’s reverberations.
The first man drew even with Amaranthe’s hollow. They didn’t have lanterns, and they were moving slowly, their heads swiveling from side to side. Searching.
Amaranthe thought of the knockout gas. Would it work out here in the open air?
The first man stopped. The shadows hadn’t cloaked Amaranthe enough-he was looking straight at her. Too late to dig out the knockout gas.
The second man disappeared from view behind him. It happened so quickly, Amaranthe almost missed it. The head and shoulders were in sight, and then they simply weren’t.
The first man’s rifle shifted toward Amaranthe, but his comrade must have made a sound, for he glanced back. She didn’t hesitate. She might not get another opening.
Amaranthe skittered up the hill of coal in front of her, both to get closer to the guard and to escape the rifle’s sights. Before the man could spin to track her, she rammed a sidekick into the edge of the man’s knee. The blow might have sent a lighter opponent stumbling to the ground, but he merely growled and whipped his rifle toward her head.
Figuring he expected her to run or dodge to the side, Amaranthe ducked and lunged in closer instead. She turned sideways and rammed her elbow into his groin. He bent over with a grunt and dropped the rifle, but that didn’t keep him from reacting. His arms came down, attempting to grab her and crush her-or maybe hurl her from the car.
Amaranthe skittered between his legs and spun toward his back. He wasn’t as slow as she’d hoped, and he was already whirling about, his huge hand curled into a fist. She jumped and caught a handful of his uniform at the back of his shoulder, then scampered up his side like a mountain goat. Before he could recover and tear her off, she reached the top of the “mountain” and drove her elbow into the sensitive vertebrae at the back of his neck. Fear and nerves lent power to the strike, and he dropped like a sack of coal.
That was all she needed to do, for Basilard and Maldynado were there by then, swarming over the guard. While Maldynado forced the man into a neck lock, Amaranthe fished out a gag and bindings.
“What took you two so long?” she whispered.
“We stopped to watch,” Maldynado said, a grin in his voice. “You were all over him like a pack of cats on a saucer of cream. We didn’t want to make a mistake and hit you. Besides, you looked like you had him under control.”
“Of course, I did.” Amaranthe was glad the darkness hid the post-fight tremor in her hands. She wouldn’t want to face one of the emperor’s bodyguards on even terms. That one had probably been night blind, after being inside the cab with lanterns and a furnace, and had struggled to follow her movement. “Also, I think cats are a clowder, not a pack. Unless you’re thinking of large wild cats, in which case it’s a pride. I’m not sure if they’re cream zealots though.”
“Did you intend to sound like Books, there?” Maldynado asked. “Or was that an unfortunate mishap?”
“Er.” Yes, Amaranthe was fairly certain Books had been the one to share that tidbit of information with her. When nervous, she had a tendency to babble-or burble, as Sicarius said-but this wasn’t a good time for verbosity. “Never mind, let’s move on.”
A few feet away, the second bodyguard lay on his back, a gag stuffed into his mouth. Of course, nothing intimidated Sicarius.
But he’d disappeared. Into the locomotive?
He must have decided he couldn’t risk attacking the guards with the engineer at his back. But if he’d taken out the engineer, who was going to drive the train?
“Try to move them into one of the valleys we dug,” Amaranthe told Maldynado and Basilard, “so they’re not visible to soldiers peeking in from the other end. Someone will need to stay with them too. I’m sure they’d get out of those bindings without someone watching them.” She blew out a puff of air, feeling the weight of her decision not to harm anyone.
“Why don’t we just toss them over the side?” Maldynado suggested. “That’s what we did with those blokes traveling with the weapons.”
“You did what? I didn’t tell you to do that.”
“We didn’t have any choice. They were searching the train.”
“We’re going fifty miles an hour. I’d be shocked if throwing someone overboard wouldn’t break his neck.” Amaranthe closed her eyes, wondering if the men’s actions on the other train meant there were more deaths she was responsible for.
“Nah, look at how thick those necks are,” Maldynado said. “You’d be lucky to break them with a steam hammer.”
“Just… guard them, Maldynado. Basilard, come up front with me, please.”
Sergeant Yara was standing in the background, probably not certain what was expected of her. Amaranthe gave her a stay-there wave. She didn’t want Yara to feel she had to be a part of this. Once they got Sespian, that’s when she’d have a role.
Amaranthe and Basilard climbed over the front of the coal car and onto the back of the locomotive cabin. As they angled toward one of the side doors, wind scoured the train, railing against them. They had to claw their way from handhold to handhold, the cold iron icy beneath their fingers. Trees streaked by, their branches outstretched, scraping and batting at the side of the train. Movement at the corner of Amaranthe’s eye spurred instincts into action, and she ducked a branch before it swept into her head. She gulped. If a branch struck her while she hung on the side…
Basilard touched her shoulder, a questioning prod, and Amaranthe pushed on. She wasn’t about to let the men know she was nervous.
The bifold door was closed. Light glowed behind large windows on either side, windows that would allow the engineer a view of someone approaching the entrance. Amaranthe stopped before leaning out and reaching for the door latch. What if Sicarius hadn’t gone up there? She couldn’t imagine where else he would have gone, but she might stumble into an awkward fight if she simply pushed her way inside.
She poked one eye around the corner. She didn’t see anyone in the cab. No Sicarius, no engineer or fireman.
“What’s going on?” Amaranthe muttered.
She grabbed the latch. Not locked. Good. She pulled the door open and leaped onto the footboard before catapulting inside.
Amaranthe landed in a crouch, fists balled, ready for a skirmish. That was when she noticed two men in blue engineering overalls sprawled on the textured metal floor along with copious amounts of spilled coal. One man lay beside her, his face pressed to the back wall, his ankles tied and hands bound behind his back. On the other side of the cab, in front of the furnace, Sicarius knelt over the second man. He was tying that one as well, though he paused long enough to arch an eyebrow at Amaranthe’s overzealous entrance.