Forged in Blood I (21 page)

Confident her comrades could handle those two, Amaranthe sprinted past them, scooped the fallen clothing into the bag, and grabbed the handles. “We need to get out of here. If Ravido’s still inside, it’s only going to take them a second to—”

The back door of the uniform shop slammed open.

“Go, go,” Amaranthe barked.

Yara took off promptly, though Maldynado paused to snatch a bag that Amaranthe had missed. “Can’t forget this one.”

“There they are!” someone shouted from the doorway.

Amaranthe shoved Maldynado toward the nearest intersection and took off at a sprint. Yara reached the corner first and raced around it. A pistol fired, a ball blasted into the brick building, inches above her head. Shards of red dust flew everywhere.

Amaranthe took the corner so quickly she almost smashed into the far wall.

“Careful,” Maldynado warned from right behind her. “Those bags have already been—” another weapon boomed, though he’d already ducked around the corner, escaping the line of fire, “—manhandled enough by ill-mannered louts with no fashion sense.”

Amaranthe had no idea how he could spout all that while sprinting. She followed Yara, who was weaving into alleys at random in the maze between thoroughfares, content to let her lead until a sturdy drainpipe came into view ahead. Conscious of the shouts and boots pounding the cobblestones behind them, she surged forward, tapped Yara’s elbow, and mouthed, “Up.”

“Up?” Yara slowed, neck craned as she considered the flat roof four stories above them.

“Up,” Amaranthe confirmed, darting past her and shimmying up the drainpipe. The climb would take a moment, so there was no time to spare.

Maldynado leaped and caught the pipe several feet up, scurrying up as nimbly as a cat scaling a tree. “Like this, my lady.”

Yara hadn’t experienced Sicarius’s urban obstacle courses yet, but it didn’t seem she’d let Maldynado show her up. She clawed her way up after him.

Amaranthe reached the rooftop and pulled herself over, dropping into a low crouch to scan the area. Though she didn’t expect anyone to be up there waiting, Sicarius had, more times than she could count, drilled her to always be aware of her surroundings. Nobody was up there. She could, however, hear the soldiers racing down the alley perpendicular to the one she’d just left. If they rounded the corner before Yara and Maldynado reached the roof…

Maldynado popped over the side, spun about, flattened to his belly, and caught Yara’s hand as soon as it was close enough. He hauled her up and over the edge as the soldiers rounded the corner.

“This way,” Amaranthe whispered, then led them in the opposite direction from their pursuit.

She’d been across the rooftops in that section of the city before, often in the dark, and she chose a route where the jumps between buildings weren’t too far apart and the vertical rises and falls weren’t too challenging. More than once, Yara cursed, arms flailing as she struggled to keep up without losing her balance, but she stuck with them.

The sounds of pursuit faded, but Amaranthe stayed on the roofs as long as possible, suspecting more soldiers would be scouting below. Even if
she
hadn’t been identified, word would get out quickly about Maldynado’s presence in the area.

The clang of a trolley bell floated above the din of the city. Amaranthe veered in that direction, reaching Third Street in time to spot the two-car vehicle ambling up the track toward their corner. The wooden sign dangling above the cab promised the trolley was on its way to the waterfront.

Amaranthe pointed. “That’ll work.”

“You
are
insane,” Yara said, no longer asking but making statements. Breathing heavily, she added, “It’s coming down the… middle of the street. That’s at least a… ten foot jump.”

“Ah, but we’re higher. It’ll be easy. Just get a running start and soften your knees when you land.”

With the trolley approaching, there was no more time to debate it. If Yara didn’t want to jump, Amaranthe trusted she’d find another way down and back to the waterfront. For her and Maldynado… this would keep them from being seen. There were pedestrians on the street, but nobody in uniform—at the moment. It wouldn’t take long for those soldiers to set up a search net though.

“Ready, boss.” Maldynado hefted his shopping bags and jumped first.

He sailed through the air, landing lightly behind the smokestack without dropping a bag. Amaranthe leaped after him, dropping into a low crouch, trying to keep her touchdown soft so people in the trolley wouldn’t hear a heavy thump. Fortunately, there weren’t many passengers aboard in the middle of the workday.

She looked up in time to see Yara run off the edge of the roof, arms flailing, an expression of anger on her face. She was angling toward the second car, but Amaranthe feared she’d thrown too much power into her leap. If she overshot, that’d be a painful landing.

Amaranthe ran across the roof of her own car and leaped onto the second. Yara was already landing. She’d spun in the air, obviously realizing she’d over jumped, and caught the lip of the car. Her torso hit, and a painful-sounding
oomph
shot from her lungs. Amaranthe dropped to her knees and grabbed her hands. With Yara’s legs dangling in front of the windows, there was zero chance she wouldn’t be noticed, but Amaranthe pulled her up as fast as she could.

Yara flopped onto her back, that expression of anger still riding her face as she glared up at Amaranthe. It shifted over her shoulder.

“Where were
you
?” Yara demanded as Maldynado plopped down beside them.

“Sorry.” Maldynado tucked a dangling garment back into one of his bags. “The boss’s new scarf got caught on a screw.”

“I’m going to start sleeping with
her
if you can’t be bothered to save me when I fall,” Yara growled.

Amaranthe blinked in surprise at this threat. Maldynado only grinned. “I get to watch, right?”

“You people are insane.” Yara must have decided that would be her word of the day.

“You’re just now noticing?” Amaranthe forgot sometimes how much Sicarius’s training had inured her to daunting feats of athleticism. A year ago, she also would have found it nerve-rattling to fling herself from rooftop to rooftop. Somewhere along the way, such exercises had become commonplace.

“Soldiers ahead.” Maldynado flattened himself to his belly.

Ravido’s men—Amaranthe recognized a few of the faces from the uniform shop—spewed out of an alley, halting on the sidewalk to look in both directions. She and Yara also dropped flat. The height of the trolly ought to keep anyone on the street from noticing them, but if some of the men farther back in the alley had a better angle to see up there…

A scrape sounded beneath the trolly roof. A handsome fellow wearing a fur cap stuck his head out of the window and peered at the collection of people who’d landed above his seat.

With her ear flattened to the roof, Amaranthe was looking right at him. She had no idea if he’d raise an alarm or simply gape at them for their audacity, so she groped for something to say that would distract him, at least until the trolley moved away from the soldiers.

“Can you believe how much the fares have gone up this year?” She vaguely remembering reading that they had in a newspaper article that fall.

The man blinked a few times. “You’re a woman.”

Oh, right. Amaranthe had forgotten about her officer costume. She touched her upper lip and was surprised to find the hastily constructed mustache still adorned it, if crookedly. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Are you
all
women?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Yara said, as Maldynado issued an emphatic, “
No
.”

The man’s chin tilted upward, toward the roofs drifting past on the side of the street. “That was
amazing
. Are you burglars or outlaws? Wait, I’ve seen your face before. You
are
an outlaw. That female one who runs with Sicarius.”

“Uhm.” Amaranthe lifted her head to check on the soldiers. They were a few blocks behind the trolley now, and she relaxed a bit. “Possibly. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention you saw us.”

“Hm.” The man’s head dropped out of view.

“Was that a hm of assent or a hm, I wonder if there are any enforcers on board?” Amaranthe wondered.

“I think he liked you,” Maldynado said. “Even with the mustache.”

The man’s head reappeared. This time he held a pen and a piece of paper. “Will you sign this, please?” He thrust the page into her hand before she could respond.

Amaranthe found herself looking at her own face. Tack holes dotted the corners of the familiar wanted poster—dear ancestors, were they hanging her likeness in trolleys now? The man waved the pen, a wide grin across his face.

Well, at least he wasn’t threatening to turn them in. She took the pen and signed her name at the bottom. What could it hurt? By this point, any of her enemies who were paying attention knew her team was back in town.

“Thank you!” the man said when she returned the pen and paper.

Maldynado propped himself up on an elbow and touched his hand to his chest. “Do you want
my
signature?”

The man considered him for a moment, then said, “No, thank you,” and dropped out of view again.

Maldynado sniffed. “How disappointing.”

“Sorry,” Amaranthe said.

Yara rolled her eyes.

The trolley rounded another corner and the lake came into view, frost edging the banks and the pilings on the docks. Their abandoned molasses factory was only a few blocks away.

“Time to get back to work,” Amaranthe said.

“Yes, but in the meantime you—” Maldynado was farther ahead on the rooftop and had to use his toe to nudge Amaranthe, “—should remember that you have
options
. Just wait until we get Sespian back on the throne and it comes out that you were instrumental in saving his life and putting him there. You’ll have men lined up, hoping for a lot more than signatures. No need to stick with a humorless, glowering assassin.”

“Shall I let him know you said that?” Amaranthe asked.

“Ah, no. That’s not necessary.”

“You
are
an oaf,” Yara told him.

Chapter 8

A
fternoon sunlight filtered through the dusty windows of the molasses factory, gleaming on the brass rails of the catwalks and brightening the cement floor below. Sicarius was perched in the rafters, waiting for Amaranthe to return and observing a knife-fighting practice session led by Basilard. The two new recruits were his students, though one was too injured to do much. When Sespian had walked through a few minutes earlier, he’d joined in. His face set with concentration, he seemed far more determined to learn the skills than he had as a youth. Perhaps he’d decided that he wished the throne back after all, no matter who his father was and how slanted the odds were against them.

One of the side doors squeaked open, and three figures walked inside. Maldynado came last, identifiable, as always, by his swagger, though the emerald-green hat, its band glittering with tiny gems, and armful of shopping bags would have marked him as well. After a second, Sicarius recognized Amaranthe and Yara, too. They were wearing military uniforms, so his first thought had been that Maldynado had been captured and was leading officers to the hideout.

“…supposed to know there was a squad of soldiers standing in the alley?” Maldynado was asking. “
You
two had gone out that way.”

He, Yara, and Amaranthe headed for the stairs leading to the second-story offices. When Basilard paused and signed a question, Amaranthe waved for him to continue with the training.

“Why didn’t you check before bursting out of the shop?” Yara asked. “The fact that we’d been gone so long should have told you to be wary.”

Sicarius glided along the narrow support beam, heading for the catwalk so he could intercept Amaranthe. He’d been keeping an eye on Curi’s Bakery, and their forged letter had been picked up by a young woman in business attire who’d also collected a box of pastries. Sicarius had followed her to the yacht club. She’d disappeared into a building at the end of one of the docks and hadn’t come out again.

“You weren’t gone that long,” Maldynado said.

“Lokdon was under those racks for eons,” Yara said as the trio climbed the stairs. “I think she forgot she was spying on Ravido and started dusting.”

Sicarius, almost to the landing, paused. How had they chanced across Ravido when they’d gone costume shopping?

“I did
not
forget that I was spying.” Amaranthe stepped onto the landing and headed for the door of the office she’d claimed.

“You’ll note she’s not denying the dusting,” Maldynado said.

“How can I? It was filthy down there. If I hadn’t cleaned away a few dust balls, I would have sneezed all over your brother’s boots.”

“You say that as if it’d be inappropriate,” Maldynado said.

Sicarius hopped off the beam and landed in front of Amaranthe’s door. Yara jerked in surprise. Maldynado dropped a shopping bag on his foot and cursed. Amaranthe gave him a you-can’t-be-bothered-to-use-the-stairs-eh eyebrow quirk.

“I have news.” Sicarius flicked his gaze at the others. “Private news.” In truth, the news about the letter pickup wasn’t anything that couldn’t be shared, but he wanted to speak to Amaranthe about the meditation training and assumed she would not want to discuss her sleep issues in front of Maldynado and Yara.

“Let me drop off the boss’s bags, if it won’t disturb you terribly.” Maldynado took as wide a route around Sicarius as the confines of the landing would allow.

“Thank you, Maldynado,” Amaranthe said. “Yara, why don’t you grab some lunch, then see if you can find Books and Akstyr? We’ll all need to try on our costumes and discuss our infiltration plans.”

“I don’t see why you’re not planning to take me.” Maldynado gazed soulfully at Yara, as if it’d eat at him like an
iraki
fungus if he had to be parted from her for a few days.

Yara folded her arms over her chest and returned his soulful gaze with a deadpan stare.