Deadly Games (39 page)

“Probably should have done that first,” she
muttered, picking up the can and tossing it again, this time at the
porthole.

It clunked off without any sparks of
electricity. She grabbed it and pushed off the bottom again. With
it in her hand this time, she prodded the clear window material—she
was hesitant to think of it as glass, since it might be some
magical creation. No lightning coursed through her body, so she
dropped the can and rested her hands against the surface, kicking
lightly to stay in place.

An empty, dimly lit corridor stretched in
either direction. She waited for a moment, in case a crew member
walked through or something otherwise enlightening happened. It
didn’t. She dropped back to the lake floor.

Maldynado had moved a few meters away and was
looking around a bend. He waved and signed,
There’s a hatch over
here. Maybe we can get in.

Without getting electrocuted?
Amaranthe signed.

Maybe...not.

I’ll look at it
, Akstyr signed. Still
carrying his keg, Books trundled after him.

Amaranthe popped back up for another look
into the porthole. A naked woman darted into a nearby intersection,
and her hopes rose. Was that one of the kidnapped athletes? Surely
the practitioners wouldn’t be running around nude.

She tried to press her cheek to the porthole
for a better view, but her helmet clunked against it. The woman
must have heard the sound, for she crept closer. She came forward
in a slow, wary crouch. Snarls and knots tangled her hair, and her
wide, wild eyes darted from side to side. Fresh scars marred her
abdomen.

Amaranthe tapped on the glass.

The woman spotted her, and leaped back, eyes
wide. She sprinted down the corridor and disappeared around the
intersection.

Emperor’s bunions, that woman better not set
off an alarm.

Maldynado tapped Amaranthe on the shoulder.
He was treading water beside her and grinning.
You do look like
a scary monster in that helmet.

Even without a mustache?

Oh, yes.
Maldynado’s grin widened.

A tapping noise came from inside, and
Amaranthe spun back toward the porthole. The woman had returned.
She crouched in the corridor like a rabbit poised to flee. Narrow
eyes regarded Amaranthe with suspicion, but hope, too.

“We’re here to help,” Amaranthe said,
exaggerating her words in hopes the woman could read her lips
through the face plate. “Can you let us in?” She pointed in the
direction of the hatch.

The woman sprinted away, not toward the hatch
but back toward the intersection, and disappeared around the
corner.

Amaranthe sighed and clunked her head against
the porthole.

Maldynado patted her back.
They’re
athletes. They don’t have to be bright to win the races, just
fast.

Several moments passed, and Amaranthe was
about to give up and check other portholes when the woman jogged
back into view with a crowbar in her hands. She nodded curtly and
continued past, heading toward the hatch.

Amaranthe pushed away from the porthole and
swam in the same direction. When she rounded the bend, she found
Akstyr sprawled on his back in the sand, a dazed expression on his
face.

Problem with that energy you sensed?
she signed.

He struggled to sit up.
I got a little
close.

Amaranthe helped him to his feet. The
five-foot-wide square hatch in the hull had a wheel-style door
opener, so it seemed one could get in if the defenses weren’t up.
She wondered if the woman would be able to bypass them. Her snarled
dark hair and bronze skin had appeared Turgonian, so she probably
knew nothing about the Science.

Scrapes and clunks came from the other side
of the hatch.

If she opens it
, Maldynado signed,
won’t water flood in?

Amaranthe shrugged.
I don’t know. It’s my
first underwater-fortress infiltration.

A shadow passed overhead. Dread sprang into
Amaranthe’s limbs, and she knew they were in trouble before she
looked up.

The kraken glided over the structure, its
tentacles streaming out behind it. The creature had to be more than
seventy-five feet long from arrow-shaped head to tentacle tips. An
eye the size of one of the dive helmets rotated until it fixed upon
them.

Something that might have been a string of
curses came from Maldynado. Amaranthe almost grabbed the wheel on
the hatch in a vain hope the woman had turned off the defenses, but
she did not need more lightning knocking her on her backside.

The kraken’s great mantle flexed, and its
tentacles flared outward, allowing it to alter course toward
them.

Wait by the hatch,
Amaranthe signed,
then pushed off the lake floor before the men could object.

Books shouted something. The helmets and the
water made it indistinguishable, so it was doubtlessly her
imagination that she heard the word “prudent.”

Amaranthe kicked and paddled
one-armed—holding the harpoon launcher made her strokes awkward—to
the porthole, then treaded to maintain a position in front of it.
She waved her arm, trying to draw the kraken’s attention. She need
not have made the effort. The beast had already spotted her. Hungry
black eyes bored into her soul, as if they might freeze her by the
might of their stare alone. The tentacles spread out, suction cups
lining the dark purple flesh, and two long limbs stretched toward
her.

On the floor below, Maldynado and Akstyr
raised their harpoons. Though Amaranthe knew they would not like
it, she lifted a hand, telling them to wait. She wanted to see if
her idea worked first. If not...they could fire everything they had
into those tentacles. Each one was as thick as Maldynado’s chest
and could wrap her in a grip she could never escape.

One darted toward her. Amaranthe kicked out,
pushing off the porthole glass, angling down toward her men.

The tentacle clipped the fortress wall.
Lightning streaked up the purple flesh, and sparks danced over the
suction cups.

A high-pitched squeal assaulted Amaranthe’s
ears. The tentacle jerked away. Black ink clouded the water, and
the kraken retreated.

Two harpoons flew from below. With the kraken
already swimming away at top speed, Amaranthe did not expect much,
but one blade did clip a tentacle. It was hard to tell if the
poison had any effect on the creature.

She landed on the lake floor beside the men.
Got that hatch open yet?

We were busy trying to protect you.
Maldynado frowned at her.

Yes
, Books added.
Didn’t we discuss
how you were going to partake only in prudent actions going
forward?

Is there a prudent way to fight a giant
squid?
Amaranthe signed.

Hide behind someone tastier looking than
you?
Akstyr suggested.

Before they could discuss it further, a
sucking noise sounded—a seal being broken. The hatch swung
outward.

Amaranthe started for it, but Maldynado
bumped her aside with his hip, gave her a pointed look, and went
first. Feeling protective, was he?

She followed right after, careful not to
touch the outer frame of the hatchway, lest it be electrified as
well. They entered a tiny chamber full of water. Another hatch,
identical to the first, waited on the inside.

Maldynado reached for the wheel-shaped
opening mechanism, stopped with his hands inches away, drew back
and poked it with his sword. No sparks or branches of lightning ran
up the blade.

Metal conducts electricity, you twit,
Books signed.
If the door
had been
charged, that
wouldn’t have helped.

Maldynado sheathed his rapier and managed to
elbow Books in the process. He tried the wheel, but it did not
move.

Maybe we have to close the outside door
first.
Books eyed the walls.
There must be a way to make the
water drain out before one enters the main structure.

Akstyr pulled the outer hatch shut. The light
from outside disappeared, and blackness dropped over them.

“Well, that’s lovely,” Amaranthe said.

Since the helmets and the water precluded
talking, she had to imagine the sarcastic comments from the others.
It was a strange sensation, being in the dark with water swirling
about her. Inside the helmet, her breaths echoed in her ears.
Somewhere in the distance, a throbbing
woo-wah
noise
pulsed.

A clunk sounded, reverberating from within a
nearby wall. Water tinkled, as if running down a drainpipe, but
nothing happened quickly. When she reached up, Amaranthe found only
a two-inch-high pocket of air at the top of the chamber.

When the water lowered to chest level, she
removed her helmet, figuring it would be better to talk to the
naked girl looking like a human being, not some mad tinkerer’s
person-shaped walking machine.

With the helmet off, the
woo-wah
sound
rang more loudly in her ears. An alarm? And if so, was it for her
team, or for the marine ship overhead? The latter she hoped, but
there could be a squad of guards waiting with rifles on the other
side of the hatch, especially given how long it was taking the
chamber to drain.

Water splashed behind her—someone else
removing his helmet.

“Are we shooting people?” Maldynado asked,
and Amaranthe imagined him hefting the harpoon launcher.

“We should save the poisoned harpoons for the
kraken,” she said. “We don’t have many, and I suspect we’ll have to
deal with it before this is over.”

“Are we
stabbing
people then?”
Maldynado asked. “Or is this like with soldiers and enforcers where
it’d be bad for our image to kill them?”

Amaranthe winced at the idea that it was only
their image that kept her from killing people, but she knew what he
meant. “I doubt we’ll run into any enforcers down here, and we can
assume any soldiers have gone rogue.” She thought of the message
these people had sent to the enforcers, claiming they would be
turning a dead Sicarius in for reward, and she had little trouble
hardening herself toward them. “We don’t need to go out of the way
to butcher anyone, but...we’re going to be outnumbered. Don’t let
mercy get you into trouble.”

“Understood,” Books said quietly.

When the water level dropped to her knees,
Amaranthe figured it was low enough. “Time to go,” she said, though
her fastidious streak made her wince at the idea of water gushing
into the corridor, leaving the enemy’s floor in need of a
mopping.

Maldynado grunted a few times. “The wheel’s
not budging. How do we get out?”

“Never overlook the obvious.” Amaranthe
knocked.

He snorted, but the hatch creaked open. A
foot of water flowed into the corridor. Though dim, the lighting
was bright after the darkness of the chamber, and Amaranthe
squinted. After a few blinks, the nude woman came into focus. She
stood in the corridor, ignoring the water dampening her bare feet.
She alternated glancing both ways down the passage and plying
Amaranthe with questioning looks. One of the men stirred, and the
woman jumped away, pressing her back to the wall.

Lowering her harpoon launcher, Amaranthe
stepped into the corridor and raised a friendly hand. “We’re here
to help.”

The men crowded out behind her. Maldynado and
Books had the maturity not to gape openly at the naked woman—even
in her frazzled state, she had a tall, athletic form with curves
enough to interest any man—but Akstyr was another matter. Amaranthe
elbowed him, and he closed his mouth.

“I’m Amaranthe,” she told the girl. “I assume
you’re one of the kidnapped athletes?” The alarm going off made her
want to grab the woman by the arm and demand to be taken to the
others immediately, but they would get farther with a cooperative
guide.

“Yes, I’m Merva.”

“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” Maldynado
managed a graceful warrior-caste bow even in the confining
corridor, with the bulky helmet beneath his arm. “Are you
perhaps—”

“Able to show us where the other prisoners
are?” Amaranthe asked, giving Maldynado a
please-wait-to-seduce-her-until-later look.

“And can you let us know,” Books added, “if
that’s an alarm? Are they trying to find you?”

“I—probably.” Merva touched her mouth with
her fingers. “I think they’re after those two men though.”

Amaranthe stood straighter, eyes riveted on
the woman. “A blond man and a scarred one?”

Merva shrugged without dropping her hand.
“I’m not sure. I’ve been...” She touched her head with her other
hand. “I don’t remember anything since... Two men grabbed me in my
bunk at the athletes’ barracks and thrust a vial under my nose.
After that... I don’t know how long I’ve slept. I woke up a little
while ago, like this. Someone had cut straps holding me to a
table.”

Someone? That sounded too beneficent for
Sicarius, but Basilard perhaps? She wanted to pump the girl for
answers, but they had best find someplace less open for planning
the next step.

Merva leaned past her and pointed into the
staging chamber. “Can I get out that way? We’re underwater, right?
Are we in the ocean?”

“Nah,” Akstyr said. “We’re just—”

“We can help you escape,” Amaranthe said,
cutting Akstyr off before he could reveal how close to the city
they were. She did not want the girl swimming out there, only to
drown trying to reach the surface. “But let’s get all the prisoners
out first. Have you seen others since you woke up?”

Merva tore her gaze from the chamber. “We
started out together, several of us, but then we ran into those
soldiers, and one of them fired at us. Everyone scattered,
and—”

A man in military fatigues jogged around the
corner and skidded to a halt. His eyebrows flew up when he spotted
the diving suits. “Intruders!” he shouted and grabbed for a pistol,
but he seemed to realize he was outnumbered. Instead of shooting,
he whirled for the cover of the corner.