“The marines will chop you all down like dead wood.” Spitting out that line was the extent of the man’s bravery, for he jumped over the side after that.
He twisted in the air, however, and landed on the enforcer boat. He yanked another knife out of a boot sheath and lunged into the cabin.
“Maldynado, look out!” Evrial barked, horrified that she’d done so poor a job of subduing the man.
She leaped over the railing, landing in a crouch on the deck. She took a running step toward the cabin, but halted, arms spinning for balance, when Maldynado appeared in the doorway. He held the stray security guard by the back of the neck. Blood streamed from the man’s nose, and he gaped at Evrial with crossed eyes.
“Lose something?” Maldynado asked.
The man stumbled, almost falling at Evrial’s feet. Maldynado tossed him over the side. The other security man had already fallen behind and was swimming toward a riverbank.
“I didn’t want to treat him poorly since he was kind enough to tie up our boat,” Evrial said.
“Ah, quite thoughtful of you.”
“Also, I’m not as unrecognizable as we’d hoped.”
Clangs came from the deck above. Men in black marine uniforms were jogging along the lower deck, their arms laden with weapons. They were scurrying about on the top deck as well, and even on the roof. A squad raced into the dining hall.
“I’m not certain we’re going to be able to get in to help the team,” Evrial said.
Maldynado opened his mouth, but a boom drowned out his response. It had come from the middle of the boat—the dining hall?
“Think that’s Lokdon blowing things up?” Evrial asked. “Or the marines trying to flush them out?”
“I don’t know, but we are going to help them.” Maldynado pushed past Evrial and headed for the railing.
“Wait.” Evrial grabbed his arm. A second boom roared. Someone was going to sink the boat at this rate. “What if they don’t need help? What if they need a way to escape?” She waved at their enforcer craft. “We have it.”
The rest of the marines on the lower deck veered into the dining hall, except for four men who split off and ran toward the rear of the steamboat, toward Maldynado and Evrial. Uh oh. Had they seen Evrial hurl the security guards over the side? Or maybe they recognized Maldynado’s face.
Each marine carried a rifle diagonally in front of his chest, and more weapons dangled from their belts. The men picked up speed as they closed on the enforcer boat.
“We have to go,” Evrial said. The well-trained marines would be harder to subdue than security officers.
Maldynado glanced from Evrial’s hand on his arm to the approaching marines. He looked like he wanted to leap onto the deck and charge those men. And they looked like they’d be ready.
He shook off Evrial’s hand and grabbed the bottom rung of the railing. The four men halted, the two in front dropping to one knee. All four lifted their rifles.
“Get down, you fool.” Evrial tried to yank Maldynado toward the protected navigation cabin, but he weighed more than a lorry full of pig iron.
Fortunately, he saw the danger and ducked out of sight in time. Four rifles fired, balls whistling through the air. One clanged against the metal railing, throwing a spark in the air.
Evrial sliced through the rope tying their craft to the steamboat. “Get us out of here.”
“Sicarius!” came a distant cry. “He’s back.”
“Get him!”
Maldynado hesitated.
Evrial shoved him in the back. “We can’t do them any good if we’re dead.”
Growling, Maldynado stomped down the steps and into the cabin. Evrial shoved the steamboat’s hull with her foot. The marines had reloaded and were racing toward them again. She scrambled into the cabin after Maldynado. She was no coward, but picking a fight with marines was never a good idea. Better to escape and regroup.
Their boat drifted toward the churning paddles.
“Maldynado,” Evrial said, struggling to keep her voice calm. “You didn’t cut off the engine did you?”
“No, I’m trying to figure out how to reverse us.”
The marines reached the railing. One flung a leg up, preparing to vault it. Evrial cursed. They’d have to fight the men after all. Assuming their little boat didn’t get smashed into bits by the paddlewheel.
“All men to the lower deck, mid-deck,” someone cried through a megaphone. “All available men report for the slaying of the most notorious criminal in the empire!”
That didn’t sound promising for Maldynado’s friends, but it made the four marines pause. They argued for a moment, then the one perched on the railing dropped back to the deck, and the team ran to the dining hall.
“Got it,” Maldynado said.
The power of the engine thrummed through the boat. It pulled away from the hull, though not without clipping the wheel. Wooden paddles drummed against the bow, battering the frame.
“Careful,” Evrial said, “you’ll wreck our boat.”
A paddle flew off the wheel and sailed into the river.
“Or theirs,” she added.
Two more booms sounded, one right after the other. “Somehow I doubt we’re that boat’s main problem,” Maldynado said as he steered them clear of the wheel.
He guided their craft into the center of the river, where they had a good view of the steamboat—and the two marine vessels secured to the port side. The men that had been running all over the decks had descended on the dining hall like ants on a dropped lamb skewer at a picnic. Evrial couldn’t help but feel daunted on Amaranthe’s behalf over the number of uniformed men. Even Sicarius couldn’t defend himself against that many.
“Those were Ravido’s men,” Maldynado said. He sounded numb. “I recognized the insignia. That’s his battalion, people he brought down especially for...”
Evrial avoided his eyes. Would Maldynado forgive her if his comrades didn’t make it? When she’d been the one to stop him from climbing aboard? She was surprised Amaranthe hadn’t given the order to jump overboard long ago. Just how deadly were those magical weapons?
Maldynado thumped his fist on his thigh. “I’m about five seconds from ramming this craft into one of those marine boats. Maybe both if I can manage it.”
“What would that do?” Evrial asked. “Besides irk a lot of marines with guns.”
“Cause a distraction. An explosion maybe. Give the others time to escape.”
“And would we survive this explosion?”
“We could jump out before the boat struck.” Maldynado’s hand left his thigh, inching toward the control panel.
“Give it a couple more minutes. I can’t believe Lokdon would get herself into a situation she couldn’t handle.”
“You can’t? Really?”
“Not with Sicarius with her. For all we know, this is all part of some plan of hers. If they jump overboard, they may appreciate an escape vessel rather than the charred, inoperable remains of an enforcer boat.”
Maldynado lowered his hand. “One more minute.”
CHAPTER 12
Amaranthe stared at the cement-encased weapons sitting on the cut out piece of hull. “We’ll go down with it,” she said in a fit of inspiration. Whether it was good inspiration or not, she didn’t know. “And try to slow it so it lands lightly.”
Books’s wild-eyed gaze latched onto hers. “Yes. It’ll be heavier than an anchor, but maybe if we’re all kicking against gravity, we can slow it.”
“Whatever,” Akstyr said.
Basilard stared at the oblong block, and Amaranthe could see the moment when he figured out what exactly concerned Books. He swallowed, then squared his shoulders and nodded at her.
Something squealed above them. The marines were back to tearing into the stage and searching for the team. She hoped that meant Sicarius had escaped.
Amaranthe gripped one corner of the cutout, her shoulder pressed against Akstyr’s. There was no room for Sespian to wriggl
e through and grab an edge, but he waited behind her like a sprinter ready for a race. She knew he’d dive in after them and help slow the load.
Before giving the order to move the planks and let the hull drop, Amaranthe met everyone’s eyes in turn. “I want to take this moment to tell you that I care about all of you, and my life would have been extremely bland and unfulfilling if I’d never met you.” That sounded like a doomsday salute, so she smiled and added, “Also, I’m terribly concerned about all of your mental states. I can’t imagine any sane person who would engage in such a ludicrous plan.”
That drew a round of snorts. Better than tears.
Amaranthe nodded once. “Drop it.”
At the same time, Books and Akstyr removed the planks supporting the cutout. Even with four people gripping the corners, the weight yanked at Amaranthe’s fingers, almost tearing free of her grip. Fighting the force would have been futile, and that wasn’t the goal anyway. She let it pull her through the hole.
Icy water swallowed her, frigid as it tunneled into her ears. The burden swept her downward rapidly. She twisted her body, turning upright, and kicked, using the powerful circular kick Sicarius had once taught her for holding a brick above her head.
Night had come to the river valley and no light filtered through the water, so she couldn’t see the others. She sensed them, though, through the cutout they all held. The descent slowed, and she knew everyone was kicking. They weren’t able to slow the heavy load as much as she’d hoped though, and they plunged ever deeper. The depth surprised her—she’d expected the bottom to be no more than twenty or thirty feet down. Pressure built in her sinuses, and pain arose behind her eardrums. She worried that she hadn’t inhaled a large enough gulp of air to last her for this plunge.
She was on the verge of trying to signal the others to let go when her foot slammed into the bottom, her boot sinking into deep mud. Her back bent under the weight of the cutout, and soon mud squished beneath her fingers as well. She couldn’t see a thing, but let go of the load, trusting the others to do the same.
When she pushed off the bottom, mud oozed over the lip of her boots and under her trousers, coating her leg with cold slickness. Her enthusiastic kicks were as much to try and rid herself of the gunk as to reach the surface. The pressure in her sinuses lessened. She hoped that meant the surface was close, because her lungs burned for air. Only the fear of coming up under the boat—or the churning paddlewheel—slowed her ascent. She kept kicking but held her arms above her head, fingers spread, ready to catch herself if she struck something.
A horn blasted, its deep undulations coursing through the water. It wasn’t one short blast, but a series, an alarm being sounded. Because of... Sicarius? Or the giant hole cut in the hull of the steamboat? Had enough water poured in to affect the craft?
Amaranthe kicked harder. Where was the cursed surface?
* * * * *
Evrial could feel Maldynado glowering at her, a silent accusation hanging between them. Maybe she’d been wrong to delay him, but what could crashing the boat do? It was a third of the size of the marine vessels.
She made a show of watching the steamboat and cupping her hands over her ears to defend against the blasts from the horn. If anybody lived in the forest surrounding this stretch of the river valley, they had to be wondering about the ancestors-cursed noise. Lokdon and the others must have done something. Maldynado had been keeping pace with the steamboat, and he was forced to slow down. People were scrambling all over the lower deck, but Evrial couldn’t tell what they were doing. It looked like chaos.
“I’m taking us in closer,” Maldynado said, hand fastening onto a control lever.
“Wait.” Evrial lunged to her feet. She thought she’d seen something pop up in the water between them and the boat.
She squinted at the river’s surface. Though she and Maldynado were maneuvering in the dark, the steamboat’s running lights created shimmering yellow reflections on the black water. The wake from the churning paddlewheel broke up the surface, though, and she couldn’t be sure... Yes, there it was—there he was. Someone’s head. Another one popped up nearby.
Evrial extended her arm grandly toward the spot, as if she’d expected the team to arise thusly all along. “I believe those are the people we’ve been waiting for.”
“Well, I’ll be the emperor’s personal chamber pot polisher, that’s Basilard,” Maldynado said.
“I’m fairly certain the Imperial Barracks has plumbing these days.”
As Maldynado guided the boat closer, three more heads popped up, one with a mop of long hair dripping into her eyes and spreading around her shoulders. Amaranthe must have lost her hair tie. Evrial found herself particularly relieved to see her, maybe because she mattered most to Maldynado. Or maybe she herself was coming to care for the other woman. She didn’t see a blond head though. Had Sicarius not been with them?
When the team spotted the enforcer boat gliding toward them, they started swimming toward the closest bank.
“Oops,” Maldynado said. “They won’t know it’s us.”
Evrial raced onto the deck. “Wait!” she called as loudly as she dared. With the alarm still blasting from the steamboat, she didn’t think anyone on board would hear her, but at least some of those marines would be on watch, scanning the dark river and shoreline around them.
One of the men had a clumsy head-above-water crawl stroke, and he paused, apparently hearing her.
“It’s Sergeant Yara,” she called, “and Maldynado. We have a boat.”
The figure pushed a mop of hair out of his eyes. It must be Akstyr. He hurried and caught the others, though Amaranthe, a surprisingly good swimmer, made it to the shoreline before turning and realizing her men weren’t with her. Evrial lifted an arm and waved, figuring enforcers wouldn’t normally offer outlaws a friendly greeting.
Akstyr cupped his hand and shouted something to her. Amaranthe gave him a wave of acknowledgment, but she didn’t rush back into the water. She gazed upriver, toward the steamboat.
“Sicarius,” Evrial muttered. She had to be wondering about him.
Evrial didn’t feel a similar sense of concern—his loss wouldn’t disturb her—though she empathized with Amaranthe and hoped he turned up for her sake.
“Tell them to hurry,” Maldynado called up from the cabin. “There’s a marine with a spyglass looking this way.”
Evrial waved again, relaying the message. She didn’t know if Amaranthe heard, but she tore her gaze away from the steamboat and swam back out. Her men were already climbing aboard.
“We haven’t figured out how we’re going to get past them, have we?” Evrial asked Maldynado.
“Why do we have to pass them? Let’s go back to that port and find a lorry to borrow. That might be the best way to get back to town if the army’s searching all the main routes.”
“Good point.” Evrial decided not to say anything about stealing more vehicles; that fight could wait. She dropped an arm when Amaranthe approached, helping her over the edge.
“Thanks.” Before Amaranthe found her feet, she added, “Have you seen Sicarius?”
“If they had,” came a voice from the back of the boat, “it’d be a failing on his part.”
Sicarius stood there, dripping water, his short blond hair flattened to his head. Akstyr groaned and elbowed Basilard, muttering something about, “thought we might have gotten rid of him.”
Amaranthe nearly stumbled over her own men in her haste to reach him. She threw her arms around him with enough force that she could have knocked him overboard if he hadn’t been prepared. After a brief hesitation, Sicarius returned the hug.
Akstyr gaped. Books and Basilard shared shrugs—knowing shrugs, Evrial thought. Sespian sighed and turned his back on them. Evrial remembered his interest in Amaranthe and patted him on the shoulder as she descended the steps, joining Maldynado in the cabin again. He’d turned the craft around, and the dark river spread out before them.
“We have ever
ybody?” Maldynado leaned back in his seat, twisting his neck to peer outside.
“Yes,” Evrial said. “I don’t know where Sicarius came from, but he’s there.”
“Oh, good.” Maldynado nudged a lever, and their craft accelerated.
“Because you’d miss him if he disappeared?” Evrial asked, surprised that Maldynado’s “good” had sounded sincere.
“He’s handy to have around.”
“Because of his skills.” The man’s bloody history notwithstanding, Evrial could see why the team would consider him a boon.
“Because he draws fire.” Maldynado winked. “Nobody bothers going after me and my two-fifty bounty when his million-ranmya head is in sight.” Maldynado raised his voice and called out the back, “So, was this worth all the excitement? Did we save the empire again?”
“We saved it,” Books said wearily. “For now. I need a nap. Or a vacation.”
Evrial gazed back toward the steamboat and those marine vessels. They were growing distant as Maldynado took their craft farther downriver, but she thought the River Dancer sat lower in the water. The others hadn’t done something that would sink it, had they? Maybe that was how they’d assured the weapons were nullified. If so, this adventure would anger someone upriver, someone who’d know for certain that Lokdon and the others were coming. She remembered Maldynado’s comment that those marines were Ravido’s men and feared there wouldn’t be many naps or vacations in the near future.
“You going to stick around?” Maldynado asked her. “Or are you still waiting to talk to Books?”
“At this point, I think the authorities are going to indelibly mark me as a part of your team. It wouldn’t be safe for me to leave even if I wanted to.”
“And do you want to leave?” Maldynado asked carefully.
Evrial mulled over the question, thinking of her myriad doubts during the last couple of days. “Would you miss me if I did?” she asked as an interim response.
“Yup.”
That single syllable, tossed out without need for consideration, affected her more than she would have expected. For the last couple of weeks, she’d been certain Maldynado would lose interest in her once they, as he called it, blanket wrestled. Yet here he was, saying he still wanted her around.
Beneath the Surface Page 18
