Read Beneath the Surface Online
Authors: Lindsay Buroker
Tags: #heroic fantasy, #emperors edge, #Speculative Fiction, #epic fantasy, #steampunk, #novellas, #fantasy, #lindsay buroker
Beneath the Surface (6 page)
“
Do you want something else?”
“
With him? No. I don’t know. I don’t really see what we have in common or how it’d work or anything.”
“
If you decide you
do
want something with him, show him that you trust him,” Amaranthe said. “I gather his family never did, and he’s been upset of late with how many people here have turned suspicious eyes in his direction.”
“
I’m not suspicious of him. I just—”
“
Growl at or insult him every time he tries to start a conversation with you.”
“
That’s because he starts them with stupid lines,” Evrial said.
“
That’s his way of protecting himself, by not expressing true feelings. Just as you protect yourself with those insults. Perhaps if you both dropped your defenses long enough to have a serious conversation, you could find out if you have any commonalities after all.”
Evrial pressed her hands on either side of the porthole. She remembered a conversation with Maldynado that had gone that way. One where they’d been crouched on a boiler in the darkness. And it’d been... not unpleasant. Until he’d voiced that stupid spelunking comment. She caught herself smiling at the memory. Maybe Amaranthe had a point. Maybe—
The doorknob rattled.
“
Uh oh,” Amaranthe said. “Any progress with that porthole?”
“
No, it’s—”
A pale blob appeared on the other side of the glass. Evrial yelped and jumped backward faster than a dog bit by a snake. Her calf caught on the edge of the bed, and she tumbled onto it.
“
Good timing,” Amaranthe said.
“
What?” Bewildered, Evrial stared at the porthole. Only on the second long look did she recognize the pale blob. It was Sicarius’s face—upside down.
Amaranthe pointed to the porthole frame and mouthed something.
Sicarius’s head rose out of sight. Evrial rolled off the bed, embarrassed by her startled—and ungraceful—stumble.
“
I hope you don’t mind,” Amaranthe said, “but I’ll have to let Maldynado know.”
“
What?”
“
That you
are
capable of shrieking.”
Evrial would have snapped a retort—she hadn’t really shrieked, had she? Surely it’d been more of a surprised grunt—but thumps started up at the door. Whatever had escaped her lips, it must have been loud enough for the team in the corridor to hear her. “I’ll refrain from asking after the context of that discussion,” was all she said.
“
Wise woman,” Amaranthe said.
Sicarius’s head reappeared along with a hand holding a narrow razor-edged blade. A louder thump sounded in the corridor, followed by a crack. It might have come from the door or the chair bracing it. Either way, it didn’t sound auspicious.
“
He better hurry up,” Evrial said.
Sicarius applied the blade to the glass and cut a circle. Something else struck the door—it sounded like wood rather than a shoulder this time. A battering ram?
Sicarius waved for them to back up. Conscious of her bare feet, Evrial leaped onto the bed. Sicarius thumped the glass circle with the heel of his palm, and it popped out of the porthole. It landed on the carpet with a crack.
Amaranthe moved it out of the way. “You first.”
Evrial’s first inclination was to argue that she should go last—after all, she’d been the one to drop the knife and rouse suspicions—but another blow at the door convinced her there was no time to argue. Amaranthe draped a towel over the sharp edge left in the porthole, and Evrial jumped, caught the frame, and did her best to wriggle through. Her momentum only took her halfway before her hips stuck in the narrow opening.
Sicarius, still dangling—what he had his feet hooked around, Evrial could only guess—caught her under the armpits and pulled her out. His grip was about as gentle as a vise clamp, and she was certain she left flesh and clothing on the frame, but her hips were freed. Her legs followed, and she barely managed to catch the frame with her feet, so they wouldn’t tumble out before she could right herself. She doubted Sicarius would appreciate having to hold her weight thirty feet above the water. Nor did she want anyone walking on the deck below to see her dangling legs.
With his help, Evrial pushed off the porthole frame and clawed her way to the roof. She dropped onto her belly and turned around, thinking to offer an additional hand to Amaranthe. Sicarius’s black boots were hooked around nothing more than a cable attached to an eyelet on the edge of the roof. Evrial couldn’t believe he could hold himself up that way. Before she’d done more than stick her head over the edge, Amaranthe’s hands appeared on the roof. She pulled herself up without help and dropped into a crouch. In an acrobatic move that would have impressed the circus performers, Sicarius flipped up beside them.
Wind gusted down the river, ruffling his short hair. Enough of a moon peeped between the clouds to illuminate his face—and the cool stare he leveled at Amaranthe.
“
I heard your explosion,” he said, apparently assuming Amaranthe, rather than Evrial, had been responsible.
“
Good.” Again unfazed by the glare, Amaranthe gripped his arm. “We’re fortunate you decided to loiter up here.”
“
Stand purposefully,” he said.
“
Yes, that too.”
Shouts erupted from below—security breaching the cabin.
“Time to go,” Evrial said at the same moment as Amaranthe. Only as they crept across the roof toward a ladder, did she realize she’d adopted Amaranthe’s phrase. She wondered if she should be worried about that.
Amaranthe perched on a stool in her cabin, perusing the stolen ledger and waiting for Yara to change and join the rest of the team. Basilard sat on the other stool, his burly arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall and watched her flip the pages from across the table—a hint of interest lighted his pale blue eyes, as if he hoped something more interesting than being incarcerated in his cabin might come up.
Akstyr and Books sat cross-legged on the bottom bunk, each engrossed in work of his own. Books had a stack of his own notes in his lap. A thick tome penned in a foreign language sprawled across Akstyr’s legs, and his freshly spiked hair—dyed orange this week—scraped against the frame of the upper bunk as he mouthed words and nodded to himself. Maldynado lounged above them, drumming his fingers on the thin mattress and watching the door. Either he’d suddenly found Sicarius interesting—he was standing guard just inside the entrance—or he was looking forward to seeing Yara again. Sespian was the only one who didn’t seem interested in anything. He leaned against the one free wall, his hands in his pockets, his chin drooped to his chest. Now and then, he glanced at Amaranthe through pale brown bangs in need of a trim. She’d been leaving him alone since their chat in the boathouse the week before, but perhaps that had been a mistake. He looked.... lonely. And lost.
Sicarius opened the door, checked outside, and closed it without comment. That was the third time he’d done so.
“
More security about?” Amaranthe guessed.
“
Yes.”
“
Searching rooms?”
“
Not yet.”
“
Why would they be searching rooms?” Maldynado asked.
“
There might have been a small explosion in a cabin on the upper deck.” Amaranthe had been waiting for everyone to arrive before explaining everything, but Yara already knew of the events, so she decided to go ahead with the story.
“
We should eliminate the Forge people rather than letting them return to the city,” Sicarius said.
Amaranthe and Sespian scowled at him at the same time.
“
Eliminate as in kill?” Sespian asked.
“
Or otherwise incapacitate them so they cannot return to the city to assist their brethren,” Sicarius said.
“
Or,” Maldynado said, “we could stay in our cabins, enjoy the rest of our trip, and wait until we get to Stumps to deal with Forge. Why pick fights before it’s necessary?”
Amaranthe feared that option might already be unavailable. The idea of hiding out didn’t appeal anyway, not if there was a chance to whittle down the enemy forces before they could all band together in the capital. Of course, she had no interest in Sicarius’s method of eliminating people. And she wanted to know what—
Someone knocked on the door, interrupting her thoughts.
After checking outside again, Sicarius let Yara in. She’d changed out of the maid uniform and back into unassuming brown trousers and a gray sweater.
“
There’s my lady.” Maldynado shifted his position to open up a spot for her and patted the bunk. His new position involved dangling his legs over the edge and into the face of the person sitting below him—Books. “I saved you a seat. You decided to eschew the maid’s uniform, eh? Probably just as well. Those uniforms are dreadfully monochromatic and the cut is all wrong for accenting... things that should be accented.”
“
What she’s wearing now doesn’t accent much either,” Akstyr muttered without lifting his gaze from his book.
Amaranthe thought about chastising him, but Yara climbed onto the top bunk, not-so-accidentally kicking him in the shoulder on her way up, and that seemed a more appropriate response. Yara had, Amaranthe recalled, been raised with a bunch of brothers.
Though Maldynado couldn’t have seen her foot strike, he must have heard Akstyr’s protesting grunt, for he smiled and winked. Yara glanced at Amaranthe, then offered a return wink. Huh. Maybe Amaranthe’s earlier words had made an impression.
Maldynado seemed to appreciate the small gesture for his smile widened, and he leaned against the wall, hands locking behind his head.
“
Did I miss anything?” Yara asked.
“
Oh, the usual,” Maldynado said. “The boss is trying to figure out the next step, Sicarius wants to go kill all the Forge people so we don’t have to worry about them anymore, and nobody’s listening to my suggestion that we simply stay in our rooms and out of trouble until we arrive in Stumps.”
“
Surprisingly prudent advice,” Books murmured. “Given the source.”
Maldynado let his legs swing back and forth a few times.
“
Ouch, watch what you’re doing, you odious troglodyte.”
Maldynado gave Yara another wink. “Books was obviously an only child. If he’d had any brothers, he would have learned that it’s never wise for the person on the bottom bunk to be lippy to the person on the top bunk.”
“
Let’s get back to our discussion, shall we?” Amaranthe asked.
Basilard waved his fingers for attention, then signed,
Perhaps instead of killing the Forge women, we should throw them overboard. That would delay their return to the capital and give us time to arrive first.
“
That’s a possibility, but I’m wondering if there’s something more going on here than four Forge refugees finding passage home.” Amaranthe tapped the pages of the open book. “The Traveling Ice Show and Circus made a pricy purchase, one simply labeled as equipment and supplies, at Arstor Island in the Gulf before boarding the
River Dancer
.”
Akstyr straightened, clunking his head on the bunk above him. “Arstor Island? That’s known to be, uhm, in certain circles, the closest place to the empire where one can acquire artifacts, constructs, and various components that are of interest to... certain persons.”
Yara leaned closer to Maldynado. “He just said they sell magic stuff, right?”
“
Yup. One can’t be too careful with one’s phrasing of such things when one’s in the empire, you know. I’m surprised you’re open to the idea that magic exists.”
“
It’s
called
the Science,” Akstyr groused from below.
“
I’ve seen too many strange things in the last couple of weeks to doubt its existence,” Yara said.
“
The Traveling Ice Show and Circus does entertain in Kendor and on some of the Gulf islands at the southern end of their circuit,” Amaranthe said, “but they’re originally from the empire and wouldn’t incorporate magic—” she glanced at Akstyr, “—the
Science
into their acts, not when they spend eight months a year in Turgonia. At least I wouldn’t think so.”
“
You’re quite correct,” Books said. “In fact, there was a thorough investigation done of the outfit several years ago. I remember reading the newspaper accounting—and scoffing at the notion that magic existed. It was proved, at least in the minds of the investigating enforcers and journalists, that all of the troupe’s acrobatic feats were acts of mundane skill and that they used nothing more than black-powder fireworks to enhance their shows. It’s possible they simply stopped on Arstor Island for a performance.”
“
According to the ledger, they were only there for one day.” Amaranthe tapped her fingers on the table. “You’d think that an organization that’s been previously investigated would stay away from a place like that to avoid suspicion.”
“
If that ledger is the only place their stopover was recorded, not many people would know about it,” Books said.
“
Do we believe it likely this circus troupe will have anything to do with the coup in the capital?” Sicarius asked.
“
Are you implying that we’re wasting our time with this discussion?” Amaranthe asked him.
“
Our time may be better spent training for the inevitable confrontation with Forge and Ravido, rather than meddling with inconsequential affairs.”
Ah, Sicarius, always the blunt one. He was probably right, though Amaranthe wondered why he cared about Forge and Ravido and, for that matter, the fate of the empire. With Sespian no longer in Forge’s grasp, Sicarius no longer had a wrestler in the Games, not so far as Amaranthe knew. Unless he hoped to help his son get the throne back. Perhaps he felt that by doing so, he could gain Sespian’s trust?
All she said out loud was, “This might
not
be inconsequential.”
“
You have a hunch?” Books asked.
“
Why would the circus troupe be going to the capital now if they didn’t have some role to play in the events there? From everything we’ve been able to discern from the newspapers, Stumps is in upheaval with martial law on the horizon, if it isn’t in place already. As far as everyone there knows, the emperor is dead, and there’s going to be chaos until a successor is appointed. Stumps should be the last place the troupe wants to visit right now. Who’s going to worry about getting circus tickets at a time like this?”
“
Even in eras of economic woe, people will spend money to be entertained,” Books said.
“
This isn’t so much woe as chaos, or the potential for it,” Amaranthe said. “Would you go to the circus if there were soldiers marching up and down the streets, enforcing curfews and who knows what else?”
“
We don’t know that’s happening yet,” Books said. “We won’t know the exact scenario until we’re on the ground there and able to investigate for ourselves.”
Sespian waved toward the open ledger. “It could just be that they’ve made a commitment to perform and are financially obligated to do so. And the Forge woman that owns them... maybe she simply boarded the
River Dancer
because it was the fastest way to get back to the capital and reconnect with her Forge cronies. Maybe she didn’t even know the troupe was aboard. Maybe she’s sneaking about so they won’t spot her and question the fact that they’re being forced to travel to a city on the brink of war.”
“
In other words, you two both think we’re wasting our time?” Amaranthe looked back and forth from Sicarius and Sespian. Though she felt a tad ganged-up-on, she managed to find amusement in the situation. “Is this the first time you’ve been in agreement over something?”
Sicarius said nothing, but Sespian straightened his spine and uttered a hasty, “No.”
“
You’ve agreed on a point before?” Amaranthe asked.
“
No, I meant we’re not agreeing now. We’re just spreading our tiles on the board. Everyone is. Isn’t that what one does at meetings like this?” Sespian peered about the cabin, seeking support.
“
I don’t know.” Maldynado pointed at Sespian and Sicarius. “Your tiles
do
look similar to me.”
Sespian frowned at him. Amaranthe supposed Maldynado had given up on greasing the kid’s lube points when he realized Sespian was in no position to grant him a statue. Or maybe he thought everyone appreciated his ribbing.
Amaranthe patted the air in a placating gesture. “Maybe you’re all right. Maybe this is all nothing and we blew up an absolutely lovely door for no reason.”
“
Being trapped on the wrong side of it was reason enough for me,” Yara said.
“
But we don’t have anything else to do until we reach the capital,” Amaranthe said. “We might as well—”
“
Train,” Sicarius said.
“
Er, what?”
“
We can train. Whatever awaits us in the capital will be taxing.”
“
I’ll... keep that in mind,” Amaranthe said, “but we may find it’s worth having a couple of people go out to poke around.”
“
In maid outfits?” Maldynado gave Yara a speculative look, as if disappointed he hadn’t seen her in the disguise.
She flushed, but was quick to counter with, “Only if you’ll be the one wearing it.”
“
That would certainly alarm those old Forge ladies,” Sespian said.
Akstyr snickered. “Imagine returning to your cabin after dinner to find a big muscle man in a skirt and slippers.”