Quest SMASH

by Joseph Lallo

  Amaranthe pushed a kerosene lamp closer, and Books inspected both sides of their first completed twenty ranmya bill. A legitimate bill rested beside it for comparison.

  “It looks real,” she breathed.

  “An accurate facsimile.” Books held the fake bill up to the light. “The image is perfect. The paper is...well, we can wash the bills and crinkle them up. I think they’ll pass all but a thorough inspection.”

  Though this had been Amaranthe’s plan all along, and their success should have elated her, misgivings tangled her mind. Even if she meant her scheme to save the emperor, counterfeiting was high treason—punishable by death—whether she intended to circulate the bills or not. Nobody had been hurt yet, but how long could her luck hold? Did she have the right to risk these men’s lives? Even if their sacrifices might save Sespian? And if luck favored her, and the counterfeiting succeeded, could she actually bluff Hollowcrest and Larocka Myll into succumbing to her demands with these bills?

  Yes, the answer had to be yes, or she might as well give up now. But she could not do that. Sespian deserved a chance to rule as he envisioned, and after seven hundred years of war and conquering, the empire needed someone who’d rather wield a pen than a blade. And, philosophical factors aside, she needed her name cleared. Sicarius might be able to walk the streets with a million ranmya bounty on his head, but she wasn’t the fighter he was, and she wouldn’t live long with people hunting her.

  “I am uncomfortable with this.” Books set down the counterfeit and reached for a pungent bottle of apple brandy.

  “As am I, but what choice do we have?”

  “The choice to do nothing and let events unfold as they will.”

  “That’s unacceptable,” Amaranthe said.

  Books considered the two inches of liquid left, removed and replaced the cork a couple times, but ultimately set the bottle back down without taking a swig.

  “Saving the rest for later?” she asked.

  “I haven’t had a drink today. I was thinking of quitting.”

  “Oh?” Normally, Amaranthe would applaud the resolution, but having one of her few resources incapacitated for days with the shakes would not be convenient. Still, she could hardly encourage him to drink. “An admirable goal.”

  Books shrugged and looked away. “How do you know your boy emperor will be any better than Hollowcrest or whatever lackey Forge would put forth?”

  “He’s better. I’ve met him. He’s a good man.” She tried to forget she was basing her beliefs on a couple of three minute conversations.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Akstyr sauntered over. Paperclips hung from his ear lobes, his nostrils, and the hem of a threadbare shirt several sizes too big for him. “Is that a finished one?”

  “Indeed,” Books said.

  “Let me see.” Akstyr reached for it.

  Books jerked the bill away. “Careful, you’ll damage it.”

  “I’m not a three year old.”

  “No, you only dress like one.”

  “Gentlemen.” Amaranthe plucked the bill from Books’s grip and handed it to Akstyr. “I’m sure there will be no damage done, but if there were, we do have plenty more.”

  After a quick sneer at Books, Akstyr surveyed both sides. “Want me to try spending it?”

  “No,” Amaranthe said and Books shouted.

  If not for the gust of cold air blowing snow through the back door, Amaranthe would not have noticed Sicarius’s entrance. He glided to their counter, white flakes dusting his hair and shoulders. They had finished researching Larocka’s long list of properties that morning. She did not know where he had been since then.

  Books returned to the press to prepare the next batch.

  Wordlessly, Amaranthe gestured for Akstyr to let Sicarius see the bill.

  Sicarius studied it briefly. “Sufficient.”

  “Ready for a mission?” Amaranthe asked him. “You too, Akstyr.”

  “Huh?” Akstyr glanced at Sicarius. “With him?”

  “You wanted someone who could watch your back while you worked your science, didn’t you?” She smiled, willing Akstyr to forget that Sicarius had threatened to break his neck a couple days earlier. “There isn’t anyone better.”

  “Uhm.” Akstyr didn’t look sold.

  “What mission?” Sicarius asked.

  “I would like a chance to observe Larocka Myll. We’ve got a long list of businesses and properties she owns, but if we have to visit each personally, hoping to catch her there...it’ll be fool’s luck if we run into her before the emperor’s birthday. Someone with as many apple tarts in the oven as she has won’t be personally overseeing any of her businesses. Our best bet will be to catch her at home.”

  “Which is likely warded,” Sicarius said.

  Akstyr’s eyes twitched; he recognized the term. Good. While she doubted someone so young would have much of a magic arsenal, if he could identify it being used, that alone would be worth a lot.

  “Maybe,” Amaranthe said. “That’s what we need to verify. We can’t assume that just because Hollowcrest’s assassin had trouble getting in means there isn’t a way. That fellow didn’t have Akstyr’s help investigating. And he was an unprofessional lout.”

  “So, we scout the house.” Sicarius nodded.

  “And if there is a way in—”

  “I’ll kill her tonight,” Sicarius said bluntly.

  “Er, yes, that would preclude the need for me to observe her.” Amaranthe would have preferred a solution that did not include killing people, but she doubted Sicarius would agree and did not want to argue with him in front of the others. “Just make sure she doesn’t have accomplices with orders to carry her work on. Forge could be a large coalition.”

  “I know how to question someone,” Sicarius said.

  “Of course.” She lifted an apologetic hand.

  Though his expressionless facade remained in place, he seemed testier than usual tonight. Did he simply taste the chance to rid the emperor of his biggest threat? Or was something else going on? Where did he go when he wasn’t with them at the cannery?

  “Boy, come.” Sicarius gestured for Akstyr to lead the way out the door.

  Akstyr gulped and glanced at Amaranthe before scurrying for the exit. Remembering Sicarius’s earlier admission that all these men were disposable, she hoped she wasn’t endangering Akstyr’s life. But surely Sicarius would recognize the advantage of keeping a fledgling wizard around in a city where magic was believed the stuff of myth.

  “You look concerned.” Books turned the wheel to screw down the press.

  “It’s my new normative state,” Amaranthe said. “Are you up to helping me with some research tomorrow? If they don’t succeed in killing anyone tonight?”

  “What do you need?”

  “I want more information on Larocka and her businesses. I have names for all of them, but some aren’t illuminating. Right now, we know where she lives and where her properties are located. That’s a good start, but it’d be useful to know more about her history and her connections. Maybe they could lead us to other members of the Forge group. Also, if her home is magically protected, how did that come to be? Has she traveled out of the country? Does she bring back wizards like others bring back souvenirs?”

  “You suggest a trip to the library?” Books said. “Some time spent perusing the newspapers and industry publications?”

  “I think it’d be an enlightening experience.”

  “Enlightening enough to keep me from having to stand outside tonight, pretending I know how to pull watch duty?”

  Amaranthe smiled. “Perhaps.”

  * * * * *

  When Amaranthe stepped outside after midnight, she caught Maldynado peeing his name in the snow. The bright, starry sky revealed a little too much and she cleared her throat as she approached.

  “So much for keeping our hideout inconspicuous,” she said.

  “Standi
ng out here is about as exciting as watching cherries ripen.” Without a glimmer of embarrassment, Maldynado buttoned his pants. “I’ve got to keep myself amused and awake somehow.”

  “Anything happen while you were out here?”

  “Not really. A grizzled old veteran using a musket for a cane took up residence in the warehouse on the next dock, but I think he’s just squatting for the night. He built a fire and went to sleep.”

  “All right, thanks,” she said. “You can go to sleep now.”

  He started past her, but paused and frowned down. “Have you had any? That press was in there creaking longer and louder than...my bed most nights.”

  “I’m fine.” Amaranthe stretched and jumped to ward off the chill. When he hesitated, she added, “You’re welcome to stay out here and regale me with tales of your bedroom exploits, but I assume you want some sleep.”

  “Depends on whether Books is snoring again,” Maldynado muttered, but he lifted a gloved hand in parting and tramped indoors.

  Amaranthe paced the perimeter of the cannery to stay warm. She alternated between yawning and shivering. If not for her mittens, she would have added fingernail nibbling into the rotation. Hours passed, and Sicarius and Akstyr did not return.

  What if Sicarius had found a breach in Myll’s house defenses and gone inside? What if he had been caught? What if, even now, under the influence of some magical torture, Akstyr and Sicarius were spilling kegs full of information on the emperor’s drugged state and Amaranthe’s plans? What if—

  A screech tore through the air.

  Amaranthe jumped. Before her heels hit the ground, she ripped her knife out of its sheath. She knew that screech. And she knew it wasn’t far away either. A block, maybe two?

  The inhuman scream had caught her on the far side of her circuit, and the cannery blocked her view of the street. She could run inside and shimmy up one of those ropes. Or she could sneak out front for a look.

  “It was a couple blocks away,” she breathed. “I ought to be...” She didn’t say safe. To investigate could be stupid, and she knew it. And yet...

  The wind shifted, blowing from the north instead of in across the lake. A hint of something meaty tinged the air. Blood?

  You’re imagining things, girl. You’re not a scent hound....

  She had to look. Stepping toe first, as lightly as she could, she eased around the corner of the building and crept along the dock toward the street. Something crunched on the snow in front of the building. Amaranthe froze, knife ready, though she doubted her insignificant blade could do anything against that creature.

  Akstyr and Sicarius trotted around the corner.

  Before she could sag in relief, Sicarius said, “Inside.”

  “We just passed a big bloody body in the street,” Akstyr blurted. “It was still gushing!”

  “Inside is good.” Amaranthe meant to jog before them at a calm and confident pace. Nerves nipped at her heels though, and she sprinted down the side of the building and through the door.

  Sicarius and Akstyr followed right behind. Sicarius shut the door.

  “Think we need to be in the rafters?” Amaranthe pointed at the ropes and wondered if she should yell to wake Maldynado and Books. If that creature was nearby, yelling might attract attention.

  “Perhaps not,” Sicarius said. “It’s near dawn.”

  “You think the creature is nocturnal?” she asked.

  “It’s been hunting at night thus far.”

  “Because that’s its natural time, or because it’s trying to remain unseen?” She eyed her two male companions, wondering if she was being silly for ascribing intelligence to this creature. “Either of you have any idea what we’re dealing with?”

  “I’d be guessing at this point,” Sicarius said.

  “That’s allowed,” she said.

  He did not extrapolate.

  The screech sounded again.

  “That’s it,” Amaranthe said. “Up to the beams.” She ran to the bunks and shook Maldynado and Books.

  Maldynado groaned and stuffed his head under his arm. “What time is it?”

  Books sat up, his beard sticking out in all directions.

  “Early,” Amaranthe said. “We need to make a short trip.”

  A scuffle sounded from above as a climbing Akstyr reached the top and threw himself over the beam. Books mumbled under his breath but grabbed his boots and headed for the swaying rope, apparently accepting the need to do so without a big explanation.

  “Up there?” Maldynado, less accepting, stared. “Is there a reason you’re encouraging pre-dawn climbing calisthenics?”

  “What’s that!” shouted a muffled male voice from the warehouse on the nearby dock.

  A musket fired, and for a moment all grew still. Then a scream of pain sent a chill hurtling down Amaranthe’s spine. The sound broke off with a crunch.

  “There’s a reason,” she answered Maldynado grimly.

  “Uh huh, got that.” He scrambled out of his bunk, shoved Books aside, and flew up one of the ropes.

  Amaranthe skimmed up after them, fear lending power to her arms and legs. In a couple heartbeats, she straddled the beam between Maldynado and Books.

  Silence had returned to the waterfront, and the men’s heavy breathing mingled with her own. One of the fire barrels still burned below, casting shadows. Smoke gathered in the rafters, obscuring Sicarius, who crouched on the beam closest to the door, ten feet away.

  “What are we hiding from?” Books whispered. “Nobody ever explained the ropes.”

  “Remember that dead man you saw outside of the icehouse?” Amaranthe asked.

  “Yes.”

  “We’re hiding from the thing that killed him.”

  “The bear the papers mentioned?” Books asked. “The one that’s been mauling people?”

  “The papers mentioned it,” she said, “but it’s not a bear.”

  “It sounds like the veteran next door shot it,” Maldynado said. “Or shot at it.”

  “If it’s wizard-made, no sword or pistol ball is going to stop it,” Akstyr said.

  “Wait,” Amaranthe said. “Akstyr, do you know what it is?”

  He shrugged. “Haven’t seen it.”

  “If you saw it, could you identify it?”

  “If I say yes, are you going to push me off the beam and make me go look?”

  “I won’t,” she said.

  “I might.” Maldynado, who perched nearest Akstyr, patted him on the shoulder.

  Akstyr slid out of reach. “I’ve read about creatures wizards can create. If I saw it, or you described it to me, then maybe I could say what it is.”

  “Great,” Maldynado said. “Let’s invite it in for breakfast. Who wants to volunteer to be the meal?”

  “You’re beefiest,” Books said. “And most expendable.”

  “There are no free meals here,” Amaranthe said before Maldynado could return the insult. She eyed the ceiling, wondering if any panels led to the roof. If she could figure out a way to get up there, maybe she could see the creature without endangering herself. Unfortunately, the dim light did not highlight any access panels, nor were the boarded windows high enough to provide a gateway to the roof.

  “I believe it’s gone,” Sicarius said.

  “I believe I’ll wait a little longer to hop down and find out,” Maldynado said. “Whose idea was it to set up shop in the middle of this critter’s hunting grounds, anyway?”

  Amaranthe looked at Sicarius, who remained motionless, ear cocked in the direction of the last outside noise.

  “An unfortunate coincidence,” she said.

  “Are you sure it’s a coincidence?” Books asked.

  She adjusted her weight on the narrow perch. A sliver of wood broke away and spiraled to the floor. “If it was looking for us specifically, I think it’d take a more direct route.”

  “Perhaps,” Books said, “but isn’t this the second ti
me it’s killed someone within meters of your location?”

  Yes, and she could not dismiss the possibility that her research was making her a target. Could Larocka Myll somehow know about her already? The wanted posters implied Hollowcrest knew Amaranthe was still alive, but he would not have access to magical creatures, would he?

  “What did you two find at Larocka’s house?” she asked. Better to spend this time working on a problem she could control.

  “It’s blocked to outsiders,” Akstyr said. “The wards are invisible until you smack into them like a concrete wall. Someone powerful made them.” Excitement tinged his voice. Either the spy mission had agreed with his sense of adventure, or perhaps the proximity to real magic stirred his passion. “There were lots of folks coming and going, though. Rich street eaters with their own steam carriages and drivers.”

  “And they walked through these wards?” Amaranthe rubbed her eyes. The smoke from the barrel was making them water. Several moments had passed without a sound from outside, but Sicarius had not yet climbed down.

  “Sure did,” Akstyr said. “It looked like they had invitations.”

  “They did,” Sicarius said. “I listened in on several conversations in the street.”

  Without anyone ever knowing, Amaranthe wagered.

  “Larocka and a male business partner named Arbitan Losk host events for the influential among the warrior caste and the business elite,” Sicarius said.

  “Events?” she asked.

  “Social balls, dinner parties. Tomorrow night’s event...” Sicarius glanced toward the hint of light seeping through the boarded windows and corrected himself. “Tonight’s event is pit fighting. It sounded like a weekly venture with high-stakes gambling over outcomes.”

  “Dog or cock fights?”

  “People,” Sicarius said. “Slaves chosen to fight to the death.”

  Books shifted on the beam. “That’s outrageous!”