The Emperor's Edge (41 page)

“What Hollowcrest said was true. Sicarius intends to assassinate you during your birthday celebration. Lokdon claims to have
pretended
to join forces with him to unearth his plans and feed the information back to Hollowcrest, but something went badly between them, and now she wants to share all her information with you.”

Sespian paced. Spying on Sicarius? Could that be secret assignment Hollowcrest had given Amaranthe? The reason she had been in the Barracks to start with?

Disapproval pinched the lieutenant’s face.

“You don’t think I should go,” Sespian said.

“It could be a trap. If she just wanted to relay information, she could come here to do it.”

Sespian shook his head, recalling the last time he had seen Amaranthe—flying out a window to escape the guards. “For all she knows, we’d throw her in the dungeon. I can see why she’d prefer a neutral location.”

“She could be working with Sicarius to lure you to your death,” Dunn said.

“Did she stipulate I had to meet her alone?”

“No.”

“Then you could come. And a couple carriage-loads of men. When does she want to meet?”

“Now. She fears Sicarius will find out about her double cross, so she insists on meeting tonight. She’s waiting for you at Yestfer Smelter.”

Sespian glanced at the black sky outside the window. This could be a mistake, a big mistake. But if he didn’t go, and Amaranthe’s body turned up in the lake later…

“Very well. Fire up the steam carriages and arrange the men.”

A
maranthe climbed down the ladder and returned to the hidden basement room. Several stories above, the passage ended at a trapdoor in the master suite, but there had been no sign of Larocka. Nor had Amaranthe spotted any clues that suggested where the woman had gone or where the assassination would take place.

She leaned her head against a metal rung. She
had
to figure this out. It wasn’t just about helping the emperor and clearing her name any more. She
owed
Sicarius. He was right. This was her fault. Because of her incessant curiosity, she had been pestering him with questions since she met him, and now he was the one stuck with the consequences. Right now, he probably regretted not killing her that day on the trail. And why hadn’t he? Because he thought he was helping his son’s girlfriend. She groaned. All this time, she had been wondering if—hoping—Sicarius might possibly care for her. No, he had simply been tolerating her ludicrous scheme because Sespian gave her a bracelet.

“Amaranthe?” Books called from the spectator area.

She wiped her eyes. “In here.”

A moment later, Books, Akstyr, Basilard, and Maldynado packed the tiny room.

“The servants have fled the house, and this mausoleum is gargantuan,” Books said.

Akstyr wore a toothy smile and clutched a book the size of a small tabletop. “Look what I found.” He danced forward, almost losing his balance due to the heavy tome. “It’s Nurian. I’ll have to find someone to help me translate—” he glanced at Books, “—but I could make scads of progress studying their ways.” He dumped the book on the desk, opened the first page, and didn’t seem to notice his foot bumping something under the drawers.

A round, glowing purple object rolled across the concrete and clinked to a stop against the base of the ladder. The orb was smooth, flawless, and small enough to conceal in a pocket.

“Uhm,” Amaranthe said.

“That doesn’t appear natural,” Books said.

“No, but it’s a snazzy find,” Maldynado said. “Cut it in half, and it’d make a fetching pocket watch fob.”

“Somehow, I doubt it’s for fashion,” Amaranthe said. “Akstyr, do you—”

“Oh!” Akstyr had spotted it. He shut the book, hustled forward, and picked up the orb. “I’ve never seen a real one, but it looks like a communication jewel.” He slid a finger along the top, and his eyes grew distant for a moment. “It’s for talking to whoever else has the other one.”

“Can it tell you who that might be?” Amaranthe asked.

“No.” Akstyr handed the orb to her. “Only the ones it was tuned for can access it.”

“It must have slipped out of Larocka’s pocket,” Amaranthe said. “She doubtlessly left in a hurry after…”

“After what?” Maldynado asked. “We looked all over the house for her, but the shifty broad just disappeared.”

“I know.” Amaranthe slid the orb into her pocket, not sure what she could do with it, but keeping it just in case. She led them out of the hidden room. “Larocka contacted us. She’s…planning to kill the emperor as revenge for what happened to Arbitan. By dawn.”

“That’s not more than a couple hours off,” Books said.

“She’s just one woman,” Maldynado said. “Are we worried about what one woman can do?”

Basilard looked pointedly from Amaranthe to the filled pit and back to Amaranthe.

“Oh, right,” Maldynado said.

“Do you know where she’ll strike?” Books asked. “She can’t sneak into the Imperial Barracks, can she? Even if she could, we can’t. How do we thwart her?”

Hands in her pockets, Amaranthe gazed at the pit for a long moment. Then she looked at each of them. “
We
don’t. You’ve done enough. More than enough. I finagled you all into this, and yet you performed like empire-renowned champions in the rings. I can’t ask for any more from you. The next step I take alone.”

“What?” Maldynado propped his fists on his hips. “We’ve come this far with you, and we’re not leaving now. I need a statue, remember?”

“We mean to see this through to the end,” Books said. “Sespian is our emperor too.”

Basilard nodded firmly.

“If they’re going, I’m going too,” Akstyr said. “Where are we going?”

“I’m going to the Barracks to turn myself in.” Amaranthe jogged for the stairs.

“Upon reconsideration,” Maldynado said, “I do wonder if this is something you should do alone.”

“I have to try to talk to the emperor before Larocka strikes.”

• • • • •

Sespian slipped a sheathed dagger into his boot and strode out of the Imperial Barracks. His guards trailed him to the outside stairs. Lieutenant Dunn, standing in the courtyard next to two armored steam carriages, waved them toward the second vehicle.

“Sire.” Dunn held the door to the lead vehicle open, and a pool of light spilled out.

Sespian crossed to the driveway. A few soldiers clanked and clattered along the outer wall, but night was still deep. Few lights burned behind the dark windows of the Barracks.
Hardly anyone to see me leave.

The thought made Sespian pause. He had one foot on the carriage step. The empty, blue velvet interior yawned before him. Shouldn’t there be some guards accompanying his vehicle as well? The hackles of suspicion arose on his neck.

“Dunn…”

He started to lower his foot, to back away from the carriage, but Dunn shoved him. Surprised, Sespian pitched forward. Before he could catch himself and find a grip that would let him push back, Dunn rammed him all the way inside.

The door slammed shut.

Sespian rolled to the opposite side and scrambled to his feet. His shoulder clipped one of the wall lamps, and his head struck the low ceiling.

“What are you…?”

A pistol pointed at his chest. Jaw set, Dunn thumped on the front wall. Steam whistled, and the carriage lurched forward. A familiar black dagger rested on one of the seats. Eyes widening, Sespian spun about, half expecting Sicarius to be lurking in the shadows.

“Sit down, Sespian.” Dunn twitched the pistol toward the back bench.

“What happened to Sire?” Sespian thought about disobeying—it would be easier to attack from a standing position, but even if Dunn didn’t fire, he could probably best Sespian in a wrestling match. Besides, Dunn would be ready for something now. Best to wait for a chance to come.

“You’re not the man I thought you were. Sit.”

Sespian eased over to the padded seat. The carriage chugged into motion, and a thick glass window displayed the front gate passing. If he yelled for help, the armored walls would muffle it. The gate guards were probably in on this anyway.

“Apparently, you’re not the man I thought you were either.” Sespian heard the sting of the betrayal in his voice. It wasn’t as if people plotting against the throne—against him—was anything new, but he thought he had picked right with Dunn. “Why’d you pretend to be on my side if you meant to betray me to Hollowcrest in the end anyway? I assume you’re taking him to me now.”

“Hollowcrest is dead,” Dunn said. “And when you selected me, I didn’t know…I mean, I knew it was always a possibility I’d have to move against you, but…”

Dunn looked away, and Sespian tensed. If the pistol lowered…

As if reading his thoughts, Dunn snapped his attention back, and the barrel centered on Sespian’s chest.

“If you’re not working for Hollowcrest, then who?” Sespian asked.

“I’m not warrior caste, you know.”

Sespian frowned. What kind of answer was that? “I know. I read your file.”

“Most officers are. The Imperial Service Academy is costly, but I was fortunate enough to find someone to finance my education.”

“Who might that be?” Sespian had read Dunn’s service record before choosing him but hadn’t thought to look into who paid for his education. A mistake, apparently.

“The same people who made it possible to blindside Hollowcrest. Did you honestly think some lowly lieutenant could get all the information you asked for so quickly? Half the intelligence department belongs to them.”

“Who?”

The carriage turned and headed downhill. Where were they going? To the smelter Dunn mentioned, or had that been a lie?

Sespian bent forward slightly. His dagger was in his left boot. Since Dunn was to the right, maybe he could draw it without being noticed.

“I always knew there’d be favors expected later.” Dunn sighed. “I didn’t image they’d be treasonous, and I’ve been wrestling with that the last few days. I
liked
you. But then as it turns out, I’m not being treasonous at all here.” He turned accusing eyes on Sespian.

“How not?”

“You know what I’m talking about—you must.”

Sespian sighed deeply, using the expression to justify a slump. His forearms dropped onto his knees and his fingers dangled near his boots. “No, I’m quite lost in this entire conversation. Will you at least tell me what we’re doing?” He let his left arm fall to his ankle.

“You’re going to meet Sicarius,” Dunn said.

Sespian winced. He had hoped that was a lie too. “The people who paid for your education hired Sicarius to kill me tonight?”

A few days ago, Dunn had seemed as chipper and willing to please as a puppy. Now he was as masked and guarded as every other lackey with an agenda.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not going to live past dawn,” Dunn said, probably the first straight answer of the ride.

Sespian’s fingers fastened around the hilt of the dagger. Unfortunately, the cursed pistol was still pointing unerringly at him.

“People will miss me soon,” he said. “Your employers couldn’t have bought off everyone.”

“They’re not my employers, just people I owe. But I understand a confusing scene has been arranged to befuddle those who might follow.”

Dunn shifted and slid a hand into his parka. The pistol never wavered as he pulled out a small brown bottle filled with liquid. He set it on the seat, withdrew a folded kerchief, and laid it down as well. With one hand, he unscrewed the cap of the bottle.

A grimness settled over Sespian as he watched. He suspected his time for wrestling his freedom from Dunn was coming to an end. He had to act soon.

“Dunn, I can appreciate your loyalty to those who paid for your school, but arranging my death?” Sespian eased the dagger out of the sheath. “It’s…not a very nice thing to do. I liked you too. I thought I could trust you. Surely, you could have had everything you ever wanted working at my side.”

“It would have been a lie.” Dunn placed the kerchief atop the bottle and, one-handed, tipped it to soak the cloth. “You’re not the rightful—”

Sespian lunged. Dunn saw him but hesitated before firing. He was probably supposed to deliver a living emperor.

Sespian’s momentum took him into a tackle. He and Dunn slammed against the carriage door. The pistol struck the wall, then clattered to the floor. Sespian drew back his arm and stabbed, but Dunn dodged and the dagger clanked against the door. A boot hooked Sespian’s legs and jerked him off his feet. He crashed into a bench. Before he could move, Dunn’s weight leaned into his back. Cheek smashed against the velvet upholstery, Sespian pushed but could not budge. A hand snaked around his head and pressed the cloth to his face.

A sweet, cloying smell flooded his nostrils. He plunged his elbow behind him and caught ribs.

“Ooph!”

The grip relaxed for a moment, and Sespian tried to yank free. Dunn recovered and the kerchief smothered Sespian’s face. The sweet smell invaded his lungs, and his heart thundered in his ears. Blackness encroached on his vision. The sound of the wheels chugging beneath the carriage changed; they were crossing a bridge. The last thing Sespian was aware of was brakes squealing.

• • • • •

A quick check of the carriage house out back proved Larocka, or perhaps the servants, had taken off with the steam vehicles. Arakan Hill and the Imperial Barracks loomed three or four miles away. With no other alternatives, Amaranthe loped off on foot. Despite her attempt to dismiss them, the others puffed along behind her.

The smell of wood smoke hung in the crisp air, and bare branches turned the moonlight into a latticework of shadows. Last time she walked this way, enforcers had ambushed her. Tonight, no one else lurked on the long street paralleling the Ridge. The city felt oddly quiet, as if it was holding its breath.

They had gone no more than a mile when an explosion boomed into the silence. The cracks of firearms followed, and Amaranthe halted to listen, trying to pinpoint the origins.

Maldynado stopped beside her. “It sounds like it’s coming from the Midtown River.”

The rest of the men caught up.