Conspiracy (52 page)

“
This... may be a foolish
question, given our positions,” Amaranthe said, her voice a little
squeaky, “but is this... a hug?”

Sure, he’d hugged her before—so few times
that she had no trouble counting them—but that had usually been
after she’d nearly gotten herself killed some way or another.
Certainly never during a mission when there was work to be done and
other people were nearby.

Sicarius snorted softly at her question, his
breath whispering across her neck, stirring gooseflesh. “Thank
you.”

The quiet words startled
her more than the hug. Amaranthe couldn’t
ever
remember him saying
them.

“
For... sending the men to
look in the shaman’s cave? For going against your wishes and
bringing along Sergeant Yara, who, as you noticed, vouched for us
to Sespian? Or maybe for my unique style of leadership which, at no
extra charge, includes non-linear thinking, inappropriate jokes,
and a tendency to blow things up?” Stop
burbling
, a voice in the back of her
mind said. She’d been wanting hugs—all right, more than hugs—from
him for a long time, so she should simply appreciate the rare
moment.

“
Yes.” He kissed her on the
neck, and the warmth of his lips sent a wave of heat through
her.

Amaranthe closed her eyes
and leaned back into him, enjoying the feel of the hard muscles
beneath his shirt molding into her back. She clasped his hands with
her own, exploring his strong, calloused fingers with her
thumb.
His
neatly
trimmed nails were lacking in teeth marks. He had to have been as
worried of late as she, but chewing on nails had perhaps not been
allowed during his young-assassin training sessions.

Too soon, Sicarius lowered his arms and
stepped back. “Later.”

“
Wait,” Amaranthe blurted,
spinning and groping in the dark to catch one of his hands. “Later,
what does that mean? Later, we’ll resume hugging in a dark room?
Later, there’ll be
more
than hugging in a dark room?” A cool draft
brushed against the skin of her neck, reminding her of the feel of
his lips there.

Sicarius opened the door, and Amaranthe
groaned to herself, knowing she wasn’t going to get an answer. But,
on the way out, he squeezed her hand. Before he disappeared into
the corridor, he gave her a backward glance with the hint of a
smile on his lips.

“
Huh,” she
murmured.

It took Amaranthe a moment to collect
herself and push musings of what “later” might entail to the back
of her mind. When she stepped into the corridor, she was almost
knocked on her rump by a sweaty, bare-chested Maldynado skittering
backward past the door. He paused in a crouch, his face to the
navigation cabin, his fists cocked.

“
What are you—” Amaranthe
started.

“
I’m faster than you
thought, aren’t I?” Maldynado asked, ignoring Amaranthe. “You’ll
need to come up with more speed or fancier combinations than that
to touch me.”

“
All you’ve proven so far
is that you’re good at running away,” came Yara’s voice from a few
paces farther up the corridor.

She was stalking toward him, her fingers
curled into fists, her face flushed with exertion.

“
I don’t want to hurt you
by throwing a punch that’ll knock you on your lean little rump,”
Maldynado drawled. “I thought it was sufficient proof of my
manliness that I could evade all your attempts to pummel me.” He
spread a hand across his muscular chest, fingers
splayed.

“
Hurt me!” Yara sputtered.
“You couldn’t hit a drunk possum stuffed in a sack.”

“
What a lovely image,”
Maldynado said. “Is that one of your rural adages? It’s quite
charming.”

Yara charged him. Maldynado danced back into
the cargo bay and glided to the side when Yara ran in. She jumped
after him and launched a punch at his belly, a quick jab that would
have caught up with many opponents, but he evaded it easily.

Before Amaranthe could veer for Sespian’s
suite, Maldynado and Yara sparred their way back down the corridor.
Amaranthe stepped between them, hands upraised. “It’s very possible
that enemy craft is coming back to visit us. Would you two mind
making sure everything in the cargo area is battened down, in case
there’s an... altercation?”

A sheepish expression on her face, Yara
said, “Of course,” and hustled to the cargo bay.

Though Maldynado couldn’t have managed a
sheepish expression if he’d tried, he did shrug and start to stroll
in that direction. Amaranthe caught him by the bare, sweaty
arm.

“
What are you
doing?”

Maldynado’s eyes widened innocently. “What
do you mean?”

“
She finds you annoying.
Why are you bugging her by inflicting yourself upon
her?”

“
She only
thinks
she finds me
annoying.” Maldynado smiled and gestured toward the corridor. “This
seemed like the best way.”

“
Way for what?” Amaranthe
wondered if she truly wanted the answer.

“
Wooing her, of
course.”

“
Wooing?
”

“
It’s drafty up here. You
don’t think I’d be running around with my shirt off for no reason,
do you?”

Amaranthe glanced toward the cargo bay, but
Yara was out of sight. “What do you mean wooing her? Are you
joking?”

“
Of course not, boss. We’ve
been out of town for several days now, and a man has
needs.”

Amaranthe dropped her forehead into her
palm. “I didn’t think you even liked her.”

“
Oh, she’s insufferable,
but there aren’t many options up here. She’s prettier than Books
anyway.”

“
Listen, Maldynado. I don’t
think you’re going to have much luck wooing her, but either way,
she’s off limits.”

“
What? Why?”

Aware of the fact that Sespian was probably
in his suite a few feet away, Amaranthe lowered her voice. “I
brought her along for the emperor.”

“
Uh, pardon?”

Amaranthe wasn’t about to go into the real
reason, so she said, “He’s the one who promoted her, and I think
she feels loyal to him. Maybe more.” The last was a stretch—nothing
Yara had said implied she had romantic notions toward the emperor,
but surely he was a more appealing candidate than Maldynado,
someone who could vex her without saying a word.

“
If that’s her interest,
that’s fine,” Maldynado said, “but I’m not going to step aside for
his sake.”

“
I don’t think it’s very
gentlemanly of you to pursue a woman you’re not genuinely
interested in.”

“
Maybe not, but I’m a
disowned lout, not a gentleman, remember?”

Amaranthe was surprised he was fighting her
on this. He usually accepted orders without much of a battle, so
long as they didn’t involve getting up too early. “But what if the
emperor developed real feelings for her? He could offer her a
wonderful future, not simply a roll around the cargo bay.”

“
If he wants her, he can
fight for her.”

Amaranthe opened her mouth, intending to
protest more, but Maldynado added, “I don’t think it should be
within your prerogative as my employer to tell me whom I can and
can’t date.”

Her shoulders slumped. He was right.
Amaranthe didn’t even know if Sespian had any interest in Yara or
vice versa. She’d simply hoped that she could play matchmaker and
forever end Sicarius’s concern that Sespian might have feelings
Amaranthe. Well, maybe that could still happen. Maldynado might be
pretty, and he might look quite scintillating walking around with
his shirt off, but Yara didn’t seem to be impressed with any of
that. Maybe she’d prefer a sweet fellow who would treat her well.
Anyway, Sespian hadn’t said anything on the train that suggested he
still had feelings for Amaranthe. Maybe he’d forgotten all about it
when the drugs wore off.

“
Very well,” Amaranthe
said. “Do as you wish.”

She left Maldynado scratching his head, and
she wondered if she should have fought harder. He seemed to have
expected to lose.

Amaranthe lifted her hand to knock on
Sespian’s door, but paused. She heard voices. Had Sicarius gone in
to speak with Sespian? If so, maybe she should wait. But, no, he’d
asked for her help for any conversations they might have.

She knocked, and the conversation
stopped.

“
Come in,” Sespian called
through the door.

When Amaranthe entered, she found Books in
there with Sespian, not Sicarius. He sat on one of two purple
velvet chairs edged in gold trim with a crystal chandelier dangling
precariously low overhead. Books’s hands were on his knees, and he
wore an earnest expression on his face. Sespian faced him while
sitting cross-legged on a wide bed draped in flawless white furs.
Barefoot and clad in rumpled clothes stained with grease and coal,
he didn’t quite fit into the opulent room. Amaranthe wished she’d
thought to have fresh clothing available for him. Women were
supposed to think of such things, weren’t they? When they weren’t
busy planning kidnappings and train infiltrations?

“
Come in, Corporal Lokdon,”
Sespian said.

Amaranthe realized she hadn’t moved passed
the threshold. She took a couple of steps, then hesitated again.
“I’m sorry, Sire. I’m not sure what the proper protocol is.” She
looked toward Books for advice. “Should I bow or curtsey as I come
in?”

Sespian’s eyebrows arched. “You’re worrying
about protocol now? You were giving me orders and having me shovel
coal before.”

“
That’s when we were busy
kidnapping you. Given the chaos of the moment, it seemed more
acceptable to be remiss in social responsibilities then.” Amaranthe
waved toward Books. “I thought you were piloting the
dirigible.”

“
Basilard said he’d get me
if anything came up.”

“
Ah. Are you discussing...
economics?” Though removing the implant was foremost in Amaranthe’s
mind, she ached to know what mission Sespian had in Sunders City
and how it might tie in with the team’s counterfeiting scheme from
the winter before.

Books’s brow crinkled in puzzlement.

“
Not yet,” Sespian
said.

“
I came to, ah...” Books
picked at a thread on the arm of his chair.

Sespian waved Amaranthe toward the second
chair. “He’s been inquiring after the fate of the Spearcrests.”

Ah, Books hadn’t mentioned Vonsha Spearcrest
often, but Amaranthe had suspected he still had feelings for the
woman, despite her betrayal.

“
Yes,” Books said, “it
seems the family was asked to retire in the south.”

“
On a piece of land near
the Gulf,” Sespian said. “Their role in the water debacle demanded
reprisal, but I didn’t wish to decimate the entire family because
of the actions of one individual, one who had a reason to feel
bitterly toward the throne. They’ve been asked not to return to the
capital, but they retain their warrior-caste status, and their new
home is arguably more appealing than that remote mountain
property.”

“
It has lemon trees,” Books
said, “and a view of the water.”

A longing note in his voice made Amaranthe
wonder if he was thinking of retirement too. Or maybe visiting
Vonsha. As far as Amaranthe had heard, the woman had been sleeping
with that shaman and had only spent the night with Books to
distract him, but she supposed it could be hard to put feelings
aside, no matter how inappropriate they were. Not for the first
time, she thought of what her father would have to say if he were
alive and knew she was mooning after an assassin.

“
I came to talk to you
about the implant, Sire,” Amaranthe said. “The men recovered
samples and a schematic, and Akstyr believes he can remove the
device. How would you feel about a small surgery?”

“
A schematic?”

“
Yes,” Books said. “From
the Mangdorian shaman who made the devices. I translated the text
for Akstyr, and he studied it on the way here.”

“
Surgery, you say.” Sespian
touched his neck. “There’s a possibility of death, I
assume.”

“
Yes,” Books said.
“According to the information I translated, the implants were never
intended to come out. In fact, they’re something of a death
sentence. Even if they’re not called upon by their controller, they
wear out after about six months, and the poison within leaks into
the bloodstream where it—”

“
Books,” Amaranthe
whispered, making a cutting-off motion with her hand. “Let’s focus
on the details of how it can be removed, if you don’t
mind.”

“
Oh, yes, I apologize,
Sire.”

Though Sespian had grown pale, he said, “No,
it’s fine. I want to know everything before I make any
decisions.”

“
That’s about all I have.
Akstyr will have to tell you the rest.” Books shifted to face
Amaranthe. “Though I need to talk to you about our flight over
here. The pilot Lady Buckingcrest sent with us assaulted me, and
there were two men hiding in the engine room who tried to shoot
Akstyr when he went down to explore.”

“
I see.” Amaranthe dropped
her chin into her hand. “Do you think the men might have been along
to spy and Akstyr, in stumbling across them, forced them to take
action?”