“We’ll find a solution. Books and Sicarius have a lot of experience they’ll share with him.”
Sespian shot another look at Sicarius. “How comforting.”
“Sire…” Amaranthe started, but didn’t know what to add, not with Yara there, and she didn’t think Sespian wanted her to send Yara away.
“Corporal Lokdon,” Sespian said, “I’d like to trust you and treat you as a confidante, but I’m afraid I’d be letting my feelings trample all over my pragmatism. These Forge people have been consuming my time and my sanity with their plotting and manipulation, and I haven’t had a chance to research what your group is doing. Your questionable allies aside-” Sespian gave Sicarius another narrowed-eyed glance, “-you went to that elite business school before becoming an enforcer, and some of your old classmates are affiliated with Forge.”
That was news to Amaranthe. Maybe she ought to be getting in touch with old comrades to see if they might be sources of information.
“I’m sorry to be mistrustful,” Sespian went on, “but I’ve been wrong once already.” He grimaced, and Amaranthe wondered how he’d been captured-or tricked? — into leaving the Imperial Barracks to end up in Larocka’s clutches the winter before. “If my concerns are unfounded, I apologize. I hope you can understand my position and won’t hold it against me.” He offered her a sad half-smile.
“Of course I won’t, Sire.” Amaranthe sensed that she’d made headway and had best not press him further. Knowing how little time they had, she wanted to, but if she was too insistent, he’d grow suspicious of her motives. At the least, he’d want to talk to her again with Books present to get more information on whatever economic scheme he was researching. “You don’t happen to know which of my old colleagues are involved with Forge, do you?” she asked.
“Boss!” came Maldynado’s voice from outside. “We have a problem!”
Amaranthe lifted a hand toward Sicarius, about to ask him to check it out, but he was already heading for the exit.
“What do you think, Sergeant Yara?” Sespian asked. “Are these outlaws to be trusted?” He said it casually, as if he were simply making conversation, but something in the intent set of his face made Amaranthe think the answer might matter.
Yara turned in the engineer’s seat to face Sespian. “I think you can trust Lokdon, Sire.”
At that simple endorsement, Amaranthe let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Sicarius, halfway out the door, had paused to hear the exchange. He met and held Amaranthe’s eyes for a moment before leaving, and she thought it might be an acknowledgement that she hadn’t been an idiot for involving Yara after all. She didn’t know if the sergeant’s words would sway Sespian in the end, but they couldn’t hurt.
Only a few moments passed before Sicarius returned. “There’s something flying overhead,” he said without preamble.
“Books and Akstyr?” Amaranthe asked.
“Not unless Maldynado pleasured a whole platoon of wealthy businesswomen.”
“That’s… not impossible,” Amaranthe said, but Sicarius had already swung back outside.
“What?” Sespian asked.
“I’m not sure. Stay here, please, Sire.” Amaranthe headed for the door.
Snow greeted her when she climbed outside. They were still in the forest, with evergreens towering to either side of the tracks, but the railway sloped upward more steeply than it had before. Amaranthe climbed into the coal car, where the men were crouching and looking skyward.
“That thing’s huge.” Maldynado spotted Amaranthe. “Did you see it?”
“No, what is it?”
“A flying… I don’t know. Castle?”
It wasn’t a castle, Basilard signed.
“Then what was it?” Maldynado asked.
Big.
Amaranthe scratched her head. A big, flying not-castle. Lovely description.
Sicarius was crouching on top of the locomotive cab. Amaranthe clambered up beside him.
“Can you describe what we’re dealing with?” she asked.
He pointed through the falling snow toward the slope ahead. At first, Amaranthe saw nothing. Then, dark against the white mountainside, a massive black craft floated across the railway, dwarfing the evergreens beneath it. Intermittent lights outlined its half-sphere shape. It was flat on the bottom and convex on top, like the dome of a building. A steady, conical red beam shot out the front, its focus downward as it illuminated a swath of snow-covered trees in its path. The vessel had to be miles away yet, but its size made it seem much closer.
“I’ve never seen anything like that.” Amaranthe twisted to look at the men. “Maldynado, is there any chance that’s the flying contraption you sent Books and Akstyr to pick up?”
“No, they were getting a dirigible,” Maldynado said, “not a giant black flying fortress.”
Up ahead, the craft had disappeared, but the image remained etched in Amaranthe’s mind. Was this some secret new technology Forge had designed or somehow gotten its hands on? She thought of the underwater laboratory her team had infiltrated that summer. For all its strangeness, it had appeared to be a mix of imperial technology and magic. Whatever this was, it seemed utterly alien.
Sicarius hadn’t moved. He crouched, elbows on his knees, gaze toward the spot the craft had occupied.
“Have you ever seen anything like it?” Amaranthe asked.
“It’s making its way down from the mountains,” Sicarius said, “going back and forth over the tracks.”
Looking for them, perhaps? “You didn’t answer my question,” Amaranthe pointed out.
“It’s possible they haven’t seen us yet. The snow is picking up. It may hide our smoke.”
“Sicarius…”
He pulled out his collapsible spyglass and lifted it to his face. “There are three tunnels between here and the pass. If we speed up, we may be able to reach the closest one, stop the train, and hide in there until the craft flies past.”
Amaranthe doubted he could see the tunnels with the spyglass, not with so many trees in the way, but she trusted he knew the railway by heart. While she had rarely traveled out of the city, he’d been all over the empire and to other nations during his previous career.
Wind battered at Amaranthe and she pressed her fingers against the top of the cab for balance. “At the risk of sounding like a nagging wife, I’m going to ask again if you have an idea as to what we’re dealing with.”
Sicarius lowered the spyglass. “It reminds me of technology I saw in my youth. Extremely deadly technology. We don’t want to be noticed by whoever is piloting it.”
“Technology? Not magic?”
“Come.” Sicarius stood, unperturbed by the wind and snow gusting at his chest. “We need to hurry if we’re going to make the tunnel.”
He slithered over the edge of the roof and into the cabin.
“I don’t know why I bother asking him questions.” Amaranthe didn’t feel up to duplicating Sicarius’s exit, so she hopped down into the coal car before angling for the ledge leading back to the locomotive cabin.
“Can we come back in now?” Maldynado asked. “I don’t know if you noticed the snow, but it’s getting a touch nippy out here. I’d hate to be unable to perform to my fullest capacity because of cold-induced… atrophies.”
“The only thing that might atrophy because of the cold isn’t something you need right now,” Amaranthe said.
Maldynado hopped onto the ledge and followed her into the cab. Sicarius had the furnace door open and was shoveling mounds of coal inside. Yara still sat in the engineer’s position, but a new grimness marked her face, and Amaranthe had a feeling she’d seen the mysterious craft. Sespian stood behind her, gripping the back of her seat.
“You don’t know that for certain,” Maldynado said, stepping inside after Amaranthe. “What if there’s a beautiful woman flying that thing, and her people capture us using superior magics, and our only hope of survival will come if I can seduce her, thus distracting her while the rest of the team escapes?”
“Maybe I was mistaken,” Sespian said, “and he’s not a Marblecrest.”