Akstyr looked at Amaranthe. “Uhm.”
“Are you spying on our inventory?” Setjarethasked, voice rising. “Are you reporting to Lady Devirk orBucktooth?”
Several of the stevedores who had been ontheir way out the door to pick up more cargo stopped and turnedaround. Chests out, arms flexed and wide at their sides, themuscled men strode toward their boss.
“No, no, nothing like that.” Amaranthegrabbed Akstyr’s arm and tugged him away from the trapdoor. Shecaught a glimpse of a ladder and water less than a foot below.There was no way a boat could have waited down there. “I see you’renot interested in easy sales, and that’s your loss. We’ll leavenow.”
“Not until you answer some questions.”Setjareth snapped her fingers, and the stevedores loomedcloser.
Amaranthe’s instinct was to flee rather thanrisking injury to these people or her team, but Akstyr gave her aminute nod. He was onto something. Besides, it would be nice ifBooks realized he was capable of more than he gave himself creditfor. She counted the men. Eight of them against her four. Thanks totheir work, the stevedores were large and brawny, but they had thecultivated swagger of street bravos rather than the cool,competence of soldiers, and she doubted there were manydistinguished veterans among the bunch.
“You wish us to stay?” Amaranthe asked. “Verywell.” She gave her men a single nod.
Books blanched, but he did not object.Maldynado grinned. Akstyr gave his “whatever” shrug.
“Wants me to grab ‘em, boss?” One of thestevedores stretched a meaty hand toward Amaranthe.
She caught it by the wrist, twisted it over,and smashed the palm of her free hand into the back of the man’slocked elbow. He blurted a surprised yelp. She forced him to theground with a kick to the inside of his knee, and something poppedin his arm.
“My shoulder!” he bellowed.
Amaranthe yanked the knife at his belt freeand spun on a second man advancing upon her.
A few feet away, Maldynado had already thrownhimself into three others and gone down with them in a tangle.Despite the chaos of flailing arms and scissor-kicking legs, he wason top, seemingly in control. Akstyr, his dagger out, was tradingopening swipes with another man. Books had a blade in hand as well,though he crouched in a defensive stance, waiting for an opponentto advance on him, rather than jumping into the fray.
The man nearest Amaranthe lunged for her. Hehad chosen fists over blades, and he grabbed at her arm with hisright hand while drawing his left arm back for a blow. She blockedthe grasp, ducked the punch, and slammed the heel of her hand intohis solar plexus, twisting her hips to throw her entire body intothe move.
His hard sheath of muscle provided some armorfor his torso, but she hit her spot. He hunched over, clutching hischest. His mouth gaped open, but his stunned muscles denied himair.
Eyes huge with concern, he did not seeAmaranthe’s knee coming. She rammed it into his groin. His nosescraped his knees as his hunch turned into a collapse. The big manhit the ground and rolled into a protective ball next to the firststevedore Amaranthe had dropped.
That fellow lay on his back, eyes watering,his hand clutching a dislocated shoulder. He glowered at her andseemed to be considering whether to hurl himself back into thefight.
“I wouldn’t,” Amaranthe said. “I know how todislocate other body parts as well.”
He eyed his comrade who was still hunched onthe floor, grabbing at his groin and moaning. “I don’t doubt it,”the stevedore muttered.
Amaranthe checked on her men. Maldynado stoodnext to three bodies stacked on each other like Strat Tiles. He hadone foot atop the pile, as if to keep them pinned down, but none somuch as twitched in an escape attempt.
Nearby, blood trickled out of Akstyr’s nose,but he had dropped one man and was boxing with another. Akstyrdodged a swift series of punches, but barely. Though layers ofblubber sheathed the towering stevedore’s broad torso, he movedwith the speed and precision of someone who had been the recipientof training at one time.
“Need help?” Amaranthe asked.
The big man glanced in her direction.
Akstyr’s eyes narrowed in concentration. Heclenched a fist and flung it open again when his opponent turnedback.
Flesh never touched flesh, but the manstaggered back, arms wide, face stunned. With flexibility that hadgreatly improved over the last few months of training, Akstyrlaunched a straight kick that smashed the stevedore beneath thechin. The big man toppled backward, felled like an oak.
“That was good,” Akstyr told Amaranthe.
She did not know if he referred to thetimeliness of her brief distraction or his ability to employ themental sciences during a fight. The latter probably. He wasn’t thesort to praise anyone.
“Yes,” Amaranthe said, agreeing eitherway.
“Look out.” Akstyr pointed over hershoulder.
She ducked and slid to the side, avoiding astevedore’s attempt at a grasp. A knife glinted in his hand.
Books stalked after the man. Surprisingintensity burned in his eyes, and Amaranthe danced further awayfrom the confrontation, figuring this was the middle of somethingbetween the two men.
“You think you can grab her and use heragainst us?” Books growled as the stevedore spun back to face him.“I don’t think so.”
The man limped backward, hands raised, andAmaranthe wondered what Books had done to him.
Movement to the side distracted her from therest of the fight. Ms. Setjareth had discarded her clipboard andwas scurrying toward the door, steps short and awkward thanks tothose sandals.
Amaranthe ran over to cut her off. They didnot need the woman calling for reinforcements-many more stevedoresstill labored on the dock.
Setjareth tried to evade Amaranthe buttripped, sprawling face first onto the hard floor. Amaranthegripped the woman by the triceps and hauled her upright.
“One who has a personality that grates likeglass paper should probably choose footwear sufficient for fleeingfrom irritated people,” Amaranthe said.
“You’re no business woman,” Setjarethgrowled.
“Not true. I run a mercenary business.”
“What do you want?” Setjareth tried to yankher arm away.
Amaranthe did not let go. After skirmishingwith the brawny stevedores, restraining another woman was easy.“Tell the workers out there to take a ten-minute break, then closethe door.”
The woman leaned outside and filled herlungs. Recognizing the nascent scream for what it was, Amaranthegripped the back of Setjareth’s neck and dug her thumb into one ofSicarius’s favorite pressure points. The would-be scream came outas a soft whimper.
“Listen,” Amaranthe said. “Nobody’s planningto harm you or your business. We just need a few minutes to lookaround to make sure you’re not harboring fugitives.” She decidednot to point out that she was a fugitive herself.
“What?” Genuine bewilderment blossomed onSetjareth’s face.
“A couple of suspicious folks took refuge inyour warehouse last night.”
With the sounds of fighting fading, Amaranthechecked on her men. They had routed the impromptu security team andwere forcing the stevedores to sit against the wall in a neat row.Akstyr had returned to peering into corners and prodding atcrates.
“Maybe that’s why the lock was destroyed,”Setjareth muttered.
“What?” Amaranthe asked.
“When I came in this morning, the padlock onthe door was dangling open. It didn’t look like it’d been forced,and it still works.”
Amaranthe removed her hand from Setjareth’sneck. Akstyr knew a few atypical methods of bypassing locks; maybethe red-headed woman was a practitioner herself.
“First time this happened?” Amarantheasked.
“Yes,” Setjareth said. “I spent two hoursrunning inventory this morning.” That might account for some of herdourness. “Nothing was missing, and I didn’t find anyoneinside.”
“I’m sorry. Checking through all yourinventory must have made for a tedious morning.”
“Ancestors know that’s true.”