Encrypted (28 page)

“
Is this about...” She
thought about the number of marines who knew she and Rias had
shared a room in the fort. If Bocrest had said nothing of their
sleeping arrangements—and why would he gossip with his
subordinates?—everyone likely assumed they had slept together.
“Agarik, I’m sorry, but he was married so...even if it wasn’t
me...”

Agarik waved a hand and met her eyes. “It’s
not that. I mean, of course a fellow dreams, but...it’s just unfair
that you don’t even know who he is and you get to be his friend.”
As soon as the words came out, he winced. “Rust, that was pitiful.
I sound like a child. And I should be sorry, not you.” He scrubbed
a hand through his hair. “You almost died today, and I’m sulking
because the only time my boyhood hero speaks to me is to inquire
about you.”

“
Your...
boyhood
hero
?” Tikaya caught herself gaping and
closed her mouth. “How old are you, Agarik?”

“
Twenty-three.”

He was younger than she had thought, but
that still meant Rias had to have been someone of note for at least
ten or fifteen years. Not just an officer, someone distinguished
enough to have been known and discussed all over the empire. The
night before she had resolved to ask Rias his name. She was tired
of being in the dark. She had to know.

“
To answer your original
question,” Agarik said, “last I saw him, he was heading off to a
meeting with Bocrest. The captain’s finally given up trying to keep
him at prisoner status. He told the men to treat Rias like an
officer for the duration of the mission.”

Tikaya found herself gaping again. “Er, how
long was I asleep?”

“
While the captain was up
on the mountain, the marines setting up camp down here had some
time to chat. Things came out.” The mischievous glint in his eyes
suggested the source of those ‘things.’ “Not that many men were
surprised. Most of us had pieced together who he is and started
deferring to him anyway. Ottotark about shi—had an accident,
though.”

She flexed her fingers and eyed her nails.
“And he’s who, again?”

She hoped Agarik would let it slip, but he
shook his head. “He should be the one to tell you.”

“
Of that I have no doubt,
but he hasn’t.” He almost had, the night in Wolfhump, probably
because he had not been sure they would live to dawn.

“
Have you asked
him?”

“
Yes.”

“
Oh.”

Agarik scratched at his scab, caught
himself, and scratched around it instead. A breeze buffeted the
side of the tent. She would get the answer from Rias as soon as she
saw him. No more waiting. In the meantime, there was little point
to dwelling on it. She should rest, or study Lancecrest’s journal.
The notes would help her along on her translations. She would love
to be the one who—

Love! Her memory triggered. She had told
Rias she loved him before falling asleep. She bit her lip. Had he
responded? She could not remember. Had he felt awkward? Alarmed?
Dare she hope—pleased?

Tikaya swung her legs off the cot. “I need
to talk to him.”

Agarik lifted a hand. “You can’t go
anywhere. You were almost dead a few hours ago. You need to
rest.”

“
I did rest. I’m done
now.” She stood and promptly fell back onto the cot, betrayed by
straw legs.

“
Really,” Agarik said
dryly.

“
I just need to get my
muscles moving.” She stuck her legs out. Maybe a few ankle
rotations and toe wiggles would improve the blood flow.

“
Rias will be back by
morning, I’m sure. You should rest.”

“
I need to talk to him
now. It’s, uhm...” Tomorrow they would be surrounded by squads of
men again. She needed to talk to him tonight. Alone. And she was
not about to explain that to Agarik. “I need to see if he has the
journal I recovered,” she said instead. “I want to study it further
before we go into the tunnels.”

“
It’s the middle of the
night, Tikaya.”

“
Night is eighteen hours
long here. It’s
always
the middle of the night.”

“
You’ve a point there.”
Agarik stood, head brushing the rafter of the tent. “I’ll get the
journal for you if you stay here and rest, all right?”

She smiled at him but did not answer.
Whatever got her nanny out of the tent so she could leave.

Agarik unfastened the flap and slipped out.
An icy draft reminded her to dress fully before venturing outside.
Fortunately, someone had piled her gear at the end of her cot where
a portable stove burned. She checked for the journal in case Rias
had tucked it in there, but he probably placed it elsewhere to make
sure the Nurian would not find it.

Outside, stars and a half moon brightened a
wedge of sky framed by steep canyon walls. They must have arrived
at the canyon where the tunnels began.

A bonfire blazing in the center of camp
snapped and launched sparks into the air. Five tents, large enough
to hold cots for all, stood back from it. The sleds lay between her
tent and the next, and the dogs had burrowed into the snow and
slept with their noses tucked under their thick, fluffy tails. A
surprising number of men were still awake and chatting fireside. Or
perhaps they were awake again. Rias must have kept the camp quiet
and had the men feign sleep to draw in the Nurian. A ceramic jug
passed from hand to hand, and laughter gave the atmosphere a jovial
feel, though some of the chortles sounded strained. No doubt rumors
abounded concerning the tunnels, and, after the deaths they had
seen, the men must suspect not all of them would make it out
again.

Tikaya stood, breath fogging the air before
her eyes, wondering where to find Rias. She considered the other
tents. Three stood dark, but light seeped from beneath the flaps of
hers and one other—might that be a command tent?

She padded to the entrance and debated
whether to peek inside or wait for him to come out. If Bocrest led
the meeting, he would not appreciate her interruption. She lifted
her hand but let it hang as she considered how one knocked on a
tent.

The flap peeled back, and one of the
sergeants almost crashed into her.

“
What’re you doing?” He
lowered his brows and glared at her. “Spying?”

“
Huh? I mean, no, I—” She
looked at her still raised hand as if that would explain her
intent.

“
Who is it?” Captain
Bocrest asked from within.

“
The woman,” the sergeant
said over his shoulder. “Standing outside, spying.”

“
I’m not
spying!”

“
I got to piss.” The
sergeant shoved past her. “Out of my way, girl.”

“
It’s Tikaya,” she
informed his back.

He threw a rude gesture over his shoulder.
No one called to invite her into the tent, but she walked in
anyway. Six marines, Bocrest and his senior ranking men including a
scowling Ottotark and the sawbones whose brother she had killed. No
Rias. She swallowed.

“
Sorry, for interrupting,”
she said, “but I’m looking for...that journal. I thought it’d be
useful to finish translating it before we head in.”

The glowers facing her seemed more
suspicious than her presence called for after what she had been
through with these men.

“
For our benefit?”
Ottotark growled. “Or so you can deliver it to the archaeologists
inside?”

“
I don’t know what you’re
talking... Oh.” She recalled the Nurian’s speech before he had
tried to kill her. Those moments when she had been so close to
death were fuzzy, but she did remember archaeologists being
mentioned. Rias must have relayed the information. “I don’t know
who’s in there. There are a lot of archaeologists in the world.”
Though she had to admit that at least half of the renowned ones
came from the Kyatt Islands and most of the other half had studied
there at one point or another. “Chances are I don’t know any of
them, if that’s what you’re worried about—the folks I know aren’t
the types to go hunting for ancient weapons caches. And, anyway, I
wouldn’t betray Rias.”

“
You
, the cryptomancer who slagged us all in the war, wouldn’t
betray ‘
Rias
?’”
one of the sergeants asked.

“
Quiet, Karsus,” Bocrest
said. “He hasn’t told her.”

“
No? Oh, yes, that
relationship’s going to work.”

The ire in the room evaporated and was
replaced by sniggers. Tikaya set her jaw. She preferred the
hostility. This was one more reason for her to talk to Rias
tonight. She was damned if she was going to be the only one in camp
who did not know.

Bocrest reached into the rucksack beside his
cot and pulled out the leather journal. He tossed it to her. “Go.
Figure out what’s in there that’s worth torturing people over.”

Naturally, she bumped into the returning
sergeant on her way out. He growled at her, and she skittered away
with an apology. She stopped a few paces beyond, bent over, hands
on her knees, fatigue making her limbs heavy.

What further cane fields
would she have to harvest for these Turgonians to prove she was
sold on working with them? Then again, was she? She cared what
happened to Rias and Agarik, but she would not cry over the rest if
an avalanche swallowed them. What if she did encounter scholars she
knew and respected inside? Men and women—how she missed having
female colleagues to talk to!—with a ship anchored somewhere, a way
back home. What if she
did
have a chance to switch sides?

“
Tikaya?”

She straightened and turned toward Rias’s
concerned voice. She hoped the darkness hid the guilty flush that
heated her cheeks.

“
Is something wrong?” He
wore parka, cap, scarf, and he even carried snowshoes and a rifle.
Where had he been? Scouting the tunnel entrance? “I thought you’d
sleep until morning.”

“
I, uhm, wanted to talk to
you.” She had been looking all over for him, but had not given much
thought to what she would say.

“
Of course.”

Rias leaned the rifle and snowshoes against
the side of a tent, and she joined him in the shadows, wanting to
be out of eyesight if anyone else from the meeting came out to
relieve himself. He wrapped her in a hug, and she slid into his
arms, though the amused eyes of the men in the tent nagged her
mind. She had to know. Tonight. She waited for Rias to release her,
but he held her in silence for a long moment, arms tight. She
breathed in the tang of weapons cleaning oil and black powder
mingling with his warm male scent. Men laughed around the fire,
trading jokes, boasting of brave feats.

“
I’m sorry,” he finally
whispered.

Sorry? Was that in response to her
proclamation of love? He was sorry he didn’t love her back?

Then he added, “I used to be faster. You
shouldn’t have been—I should have seen the condor sooner.” He
sounded so distraught. It brought a lump to her throat.

“
Oh, Rias.” Tikaya
wriggled her glove off and laid her hand on the side of his face.
“That’s not your fault.”

“
I should have sent you
with the main party.” His own glove came off and he laid his hand
on hers.

“
I’m sure that condor
could have found me down there as well as on the
mountain.”

His sigh came out as more of a grumble. “I’m
tired of people trying to kill you.”

“
I’m not an enthusiast of
the trend either.”

Rias’s other hand slid under her scarf to
rub the back of her neck. She closed her eyes, letting those strong
fingers knead her flesh, even as she lamented the layers of parkas
and wool uniforms between them. The voices of the marines faded
from her awareness. Soft breaths tickled her cheek, and she opened
her eyes to find his face close. Shadows cloaked his eyes, but she
sensed his intent and leaned into him, head tilted back.

His lips brushed hers, questioning at first.
Tikaya parted her lips, invited more. His kiss grew firm,
confident, and she thought of the experienced warrior she had
followed through the Nurian ship. Heat flared through her body, and
she forgot about her questions, the camp, and the freezing air. She
might have forgotten a lot more if someone had not crunched around
the tent and stopped to stare.

“
Well, well, well.”
Ottotark.

She winced and drew back. Of all the people
to stumble upon them.

“
Ignore him,” Rias
breathed, nuzzling her ear.

A small grin stretched her lips as it dawned
on her that she could. If Bocrest had told the men to treat Rias
like an officer, that would mean he outranked the sergeant. As much
of an ass as Ottotark was, he seemed loyal to his uniform and the
chain of command. Surely, he would leave them alone if Rias ordered
it.

Tikaya probably should not have looked so
smug as she cast a dismissive glance Ottotark’s way, but she could
not resist, not after all the torment he had thrust upon her. She
slid her hands under Rias’s parka and kissed him deeply. Let the
bastard watch.

Ottotark guffawed.

Startled, she broke away. That was the last
reaction she expected. She looked at Rias, eyes questioning, but
Ottotark spoke first.

“
The captain really needs
to let you live.” He was pointing at her, laughter punctuating his
words, but his tone seemed designed to carry to the whole camp.
“I’d love to accompany you back to your island so I can tell your
mom and pop that you were out here fucking Fleet Admiral Saskha
Federias Starcrest, the man who
personally
recommended taking over
your islands to the emperor.” Now it was Ottotark’s turn to be
smug. Very smug. “But don’t let that stop your plans for the
evening. I can see you’re enjoying yourself. Carry on.” There was
far too much pleasure in the cruel sneer he launched at them before
walking away.