The Emperor's Edge (a high fantasy mystery in an era of steam)

by Lindsay Buroker

  * * * * *

  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.

  “Standing 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 time 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!”

  “And against the law,” Amaranthe said. Slavery hadn’t been allowed since the Revolt of 654 had threatened the imperium from within. And human pit fighting had been illegal in the capital even longer.

  “An easy change once Forge puts their own puppet on the throne,” Sicarius said.

  “Do you think they have that much power?” she asked. “The note I read mentioned civil war, but numerous forces would come into play if that happened.”

  “We’ve reached a point where businesses may command more funds than the government or even the old warrior caste families,” Books said. “In such a war, an entity like Forge may very well come out on top.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Amaranthe vowed. “I need to get in, observe Larocka, and figure out how many people are a part of the kill-the-emperor scheme. Is it just her, or does she speak for all Forge members?” She tapped on the wood beam. “Since sneaking in won’t work, the logical route is to get an invitation. Maldynado, this is your circle. Do you know anyone who could get us in?”

  Maldynado stretched and cracked his spine. “I know a man who could probably get you invitations to any event in the city. His family has been powerful since the first days of the empire, and they know everyone who’s important.”

  “Can you talk to him today?”

  “I can take you to talk to him. He won’t give me anything.”

  Amaranthe had planned to help Books research. If she was visiting Larocka’s home that night, there was more urgency than ever to learn everything possible about the Forge leader. “Are you positive you can’t do it alone? You could be underestimating your charm.”

  “Trust me, I never underestimate my charm or any of my other magnificent attributes. They work great on women. Alas, men tend to see me as an unwelcome rival. You, he might listen to. You’re good at talking people into things.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because I’m perched in the rafters of a cannery, at risk from a man-slaying magical creature, and spending time with a drunk, a gangster, and an assassin at...what time is it?”