“If he wants her, he can fight for her.”
Amaranthe opened her mouth, intending to protest more, but Maldynado added, “I don’t think it should be within your prerogative as my employer to tell me whom I can and can’t date.”
Her shoulders slumped. He was right. Amaranthe didn’t even know if Sespian had any interest in Yara or vice versa. She’d simply hoped that she could play matchmaker and forever end Sicarius’s concern that Sespian might have feelings Amaranthe. Well, maybe that could still happen. Maldynado might be pretty, and he might look quite scintillating walking around with his shirt off, but Yara didn’t seem to be impressed with any of that. Maybe she’d prefer a sweet fellow who would treat her well. Anyway, Sespian hadn’t said anything on the train that suggested he still had feelings for Amaranthe. Maybe he’d forgotten all about it when the drugs wore off.
“Very well,” Amaranthe said. “Do as you wish.”
She left Maldynado scratching his head, and she wondered if she should have fought harder. He seemed to have expected to lose.
Amaranthe lifted her hand to knock on Sespian’s door, but paused. She heard voices. Had Sicarius gone in to speak with Sespian? If so, maybe she should wait. But, no, he’d asked for her help for any conversations they might have.
She knocked, and the conversation stopped.
“Come in,” Sespian called through the door.
When Amaranthe entered, she found Books in there with Sespian, not Sicarius. He sat on one of two purple velvet chairs edged in gold trim with a crystal chandelier dangling precariously low overhead. Books’s hands were on his knees, and he wore an earnest expression on his face. Sespian faced him while sitting cross-legged on a wide bed draped in flawless white furs. Barefoot and clad in rumpled clothes stained with grease and coal, he didn’t quite fit into the opulent room. Amaranthe wished she’d thought to have fresh clothing available for him. Women were supposed to think of such things, weren’t they? When they weren’t busy planning kidnappings and train infiltrations?
“Come in, Corporal Lokdon,” Sespian said.
Amaranthe realized she hadn’t moved passed the threshold. She took a couple of steps, then hesitated again. “I’m sorry, Sire. I’m not sure what the proper protocol is.” She looked toward Books for advice. “Should I bow or curtsey as I come in?”
Sespian’s eyebrows arched. “You’re worrying about protocol now? You were giving me orders and having me shovel coal before.”
“That’s when we were busy kidnapping you. Given the chaos of the moment, it seemed more acceptable to be remiss in social responsibilities then.” Amaranthe waved toward Books. “I thought you were piloting the dirigible.”
“Basilard said he’d get me if anything came up.”
“Ah. Are you discussing… economics?” Though removing the implant was foremost in Amaranthe’s mind, she ached to know what mission Sespian had in Sunders City and how it might tie in with the team’s counterfeiting scheme from the winter before.
Books’s brow crinkled in puzzlement.
“Not yet,” Sespian said.
“I came to, ah…” Books picked at a thread on the arm of his chair.
Sespian waved Amaranthe toward the second chair. “He’s been inquiring after the fate of the Spearcrests.”
Ah, Books hadn’t mentioned Vonsha Spearcrest often, but Amaranthe had suspected he still had feelings for the woman, despite her betrayal.
“Yes,” Books said, “it seems the family was asked to retire in the south.”
“On a piece of land near the Gulf,” Sespian said. “Their role in the water debacle demanded reprisal, but I didn’t wish to decimate the entire family because of the actions of one individual, one who had a reason to feel bitterly toward the throne. They’ve been asked not to return to the capital, but they retain their warrior-caste status, and their new home is arguably more appealing than that remote mountain property.”
“It has lemon trees,” Books said, “and a view of the water.”
A longing note in his voice made Amaranthe wonder if he was thinking of retirement too. Or maybe visiting Vonsha. As far as Amaranthe had heard, the woman had been sleeping with that shaman and had only spent the night with Books to distract him, but she supposed it could be hard to put feelings aside, no matter how inappropriate they were. Not for the first time, she thought of what her father would have to say if he were alive and knew she was mooning after an assassin.
“I came to talk to you about the implant, Sire,” Amaranthe said. “The men recovered samples and a schematic, and Akstyr believes he can remove the device. How would you feel about a small surgery?”
“A schematic?”
“Yes,” Books said. “From the Mangdorian shaman who made the devices. I translated the text for Akstyr, and he studied it on the way here.”
“Surgery, you say.” Sespian touched his neck. “There’s a possibility of death, I assume.”
“Yes,” Books said. “According to the information I translated, the implants were never intended to come out. In fact, they’re something of a death sentence. Even if they’re not called upon by their controller, they wear out after about six months, and the poison within leaks into the bloodstream where it-”
“Books,” Amaranthe whispered, making a cutting-off motion with her hand. “Let’s focus on the details of how it can be removed, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, yes, I apologize, Sire.”
Though Sespian had grown pale, he said, “No, it’s fine. I want to know everything before I make any decisions.”
“That’s about all I have. Akstyr will have to tell you the rest.” Books shifted to face Amaranthe. “Though I need to talk to you about our flight over here. The pilot Lady Buckingcrest sent with us assaulted me, and there were two men hiding in the engine room who tried to shoot Akstyr when he went down to explore.”
“I see.” Amaranthe dropped her chin into her hand. “Do you think the men might have been along to spy and Akstyr, in stumbling across them, forced them to take action?”
“The pilot wasn’t open to discussing the situation with us, and the other two died in the fight. Akstyr was lucky to survive.”
Amaranthe glanced at Sespian, worried he would frown with disapproval over men being dispatched, whether it was in a fight or not, but whatever he was thinking wasn’t on his face. He’d been much easier to read when he’d been influenced by that drug. Now, he reminded her more of Sicarius, though there was a gentleness to his visage, even when it wasn’t giving anything away.
“Is it possible Maldynado’s lady friend is a member of Forge?” Amaranthe asked Books. “Or one of their allies? And unbeknownst to Maldynado, she sent the men along to hinder us?”
“Perhaps. Or…” Books eyed the open door and lowered his voice. “What if it wasn’t unbeknownst to Maldynado?”
A chill crept in the pit of Amaranthe’s stomach. “What are you saying?”
“He’s the one who directed us to Lady Buckingcrest and this mode of transportation. As I recall, you had another errand you wished him to accompany you on that night, but he insisted that we needed a superior conveyance.”
Sespian’s interest sharpened at this new turn in the conversation. “As a Marblecrest, he could stand to gain much if his family took the throne. If Forge knows you’re between them and success, they might have infiltrated your group with a spy.”
Amaranthe raised both hands and patted the air. “Maldynado’s not a spy. He’s the first man I recruited for my team, and running into him was accidental.”
“Are you certain?” Sespian asked.
“Yes. I was dodging enforcers at the time, and he was wearing a loincloth. Nobody would set something like that up. Since then, he’s been among my most loyal of team members.”
“Well, he would be, wouldn’t he?” Sespian stroked his chin. “An unreliable man would be suspect or in danger of being released.”