“You simply reap the benefits of her voluntary labor?” Sespian asked.
“Yes. I mean, er… ” Arms spread wide, Maldynado beseeched Books for help. How in the empire had he ended up defending himself when Basilard was the one who’d made up the sign?
“You said the secret meeting was downstream, is that correct, Sire?” Books said. “But you don’t know the final destination yet? You’re hoping to find out where from this Mari? Or one of her servants?”
Relieved to have the topic changed, Maldynado threw Books a grateful nod.
“I’m hoping not to be seen by her or her servants,” Sespian said. “I want to follow her to the destination without Mari or anyone from Forge finding out. They’ll speak freely if they have no reason to believe anyone outside of the organization is listening. I wasn’t sure how I’d manage to get close when I had that tracking device in my neck, but now… Ah, actually, I’m still not sure how I’m going to get close.” He shrugged sheepishly.
Maldynado relaxed an iota. He liked Sespian better when he appeared uncertain. Given his age, that was normal. When he was trying to hold back his thoughts, he reminded Maldynado of Sicarius. That struck him as odd- nobody was like Sicarius-but his mind kept coming back to the idea, regardless.
“Perhaps I can visit my dear sister-in-law and extract information on her destination for you.” Maldynado dreaded the idea of speaking with Mari, especially without a kitchen table between them, but if it kept Sespian working with the team… he judged it an improvement over the tie-up-the-emperor-and-hope-he-didn’t-hold-it-against-them option he’d been considering before. “She might not think it odd that I’d come to see her, not after what Cousin Lita said.”
Sespian tilted his head. “What else did she say?”
“Something about my father. Did I… not mention that?”
“No, you didn’t,” Books said.
Er, maybe Maldynado shouldn’t have voiced his addendum. “It seems Father has extended an offer to, er, re — own me if I come help with family business.”
Everyone stared at him. Huh, Yara must not have heard that part.
“Business such as overthrowing the throne?” Sespian asked.
“I don’t know, but I wasn’t planning on accepting the offer. Though I could tell Mari I’m contemplating it as a reason for visiting her.”
The slit-eyed suspiciousness had returned to Sespian’s face. Even Books was regarding him with speculation again. Maldynado sighed. Why couldn’t everyone just trust him? If they knew his family, they’d understand why he’d rather run around with outlaws, but he wouldn’t inflict his relatives on anyone.
“Look,” Maldynado said, “you don’t have to go onto Rabbit Island with me. Mari’s arriving on the Glacial Empress, so I imagine she’ll be continuing downriver, at least for a while, on the steamboat. I can be your distraction while you sneak aboard.”
“According to my research,” Sespian said, “sneaking aboard may not be easy. Rabbit Island is a private, warrior-caste-only resort with a guarded boat dock, and, if rumors are to be believed, there are domesticated alligators in the water to deter anyone from swimming over.”
Maldynado hadn’t been there, but he supposed that was all possible.
“Assuming your former warrior-caste status gets you in,” Books said, with an eyebrow raise that suggested he doubted the guards would let Maldynado pass, “how do you propose to divert the guards so we can slip by without being shot? Or even get close to the island, for that matter?”
“How do I propose…?”
“It’s your plan.”
“Uhm.”
“Careful,” Books said, “you’ll overwhelm us with such a profuse outpouring of details.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d turn your sarcasm toward someone else. I’m busy thinking.” Maldynado stalked away. Just when he’d been feeling grateful to Books for helping him with Sespian, he had to go back to being a stuffy, sourpuss.
Though Maldynado was of a mind to keep walking, and leave the junkyard, he didn’t know where he’d go. How did Amaranthe manage to come up with plans while dancing barefoot on a frying pan?
Someone tapped Maldynado on the shoulder. He spun around, prepared to unleash a stream of vitriol-or perhaps a fist-if Books had followed him to give him a hard time. It was only Basilard.
He signed, Do you need help?
“Probably. Bas, up until a few days ago, I felt like we were all brothers, family if you will, a family I actually liked, most of the time. But now I’m the outcast all over again.”
Sometimes, friendships are tested. You will survive and all will be well again.
“I appreciate the faith, especially since you’re the only one giving it right now, but I don’t know what to do with all of these expectations.” Maldynado scraped his fingers through his curly hair. “I don’t know if I’m made from enough steel to handle them. My mother used to call me the family weed. Maybe she was right. I wasn’t born with leadership qualities. I don’t know how to walk in front. Not like Amaranthe. Not like Sicarius. Rust, even Books would be able to get everyone going in the same direction without sarcastic quips from the troops.”
Basilard regarded him for a long moment, no judgment in his pale blue eyes. Somehow, despite the scars, the bulky muscles, and the morose downturn to his lips, Basilard managed to convey much more compassion than most people. My grandpa used to say that the only difference between a weed and a plant is that one has proved itself useful while the other’s properties are still in question.
“All right,” Maldynado said, “I’ll come up with something.”
Chapter 6
Maldynado strolled into the junkyard before sunset with a new set of shopping bags dangling from his arms. More business cards stuffed his pockets as well. He vowed to slide some under the doors of suites in the Rabbit Island resort. Maybe he’d foisted a few onto Mari too. The woman dearly loved her shopping.
Maldynado weaved past the towering piles of wreckage and debris until he found the purloined lorry. Several hours had passed since he’d left to come up with his big plan, and he wasn’t sure everyone would be around for his return, but Books, Sespian, Basilard, and Yara were all present, their heads bent in some conference. Akstyr sat against a tire at the rear of the vehicle, a book the size of an infantryman’s shield propped open in his lap. How he’d managed to keep from losing that amidst all the train explosions and dirigible crashes, Maldynado couldn’t guess, though singe marks did decorate the corners. More concerned about what the rest of the team was doing-or planning-he hustled toward them, rattling his bags for attention.
“Shopping again?” Yara scowled at him from where she sat cross-legged on the lorry’s covered engine compartment. She still wore her dirt-stained sweater and trousers, even though he’d bargained for those clean, curve-enhancing garments for her the day before. Well, if the team accepted his plan, she’d have to wear his more recent acquisition. It would enhance a lot more than curves.
“Indeed so.” Maldynado set one of the bags beside her. “I’ve come up with a plan to get us all to the docks without being shot.”
“We wondered if you’d decided to back out,” Sespian said. He was seated on a rusty beam across from Basilard, who was cutting the roots off a stack of weeds-knowing him, they were for the stew pot.
“Of course, not,” Maldynado said. “I simply needed time to refine-”
“ Silk?” Yara held up a midnight blue dress. “And, and, what is this? Jewelry? Have you gone mad?”
Basilard smirked. Perhaps the garments aren’t for Sergeant Yara. They don’t seem her style.
“Who else would a dress be for?” Akstyr asked.
The emperor? Basilard’s smirk widened. That might be an effective way to disguise him.
“I’m glad you fellows have refreshed your senses of humor in my absence.” Maldynado pointed to the dress. “That garment, and the jewelry, is for my fiancee.”