“You want me to describe a bloke I’ve only seen after he’s been horribly mauled and dead in frigid water for days?” Maldynado’s head swiveled to track a pretty lady strolling past.
Amaranthe turned his face back toward her with a finger on his chin. “Do your best, please.”
“Books is the one who should be doing the describing. He spent more time developing a personal relationship with those corpses.” Maldynado snickered, then surprised her by turning glum. “Too bad he nearly got himself blown up.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Amaranthe said, though she wanted to check on Books as soon as they finished here. She gripped Maldynado’s arm, then nodded to Sicarius. “Ready?”
They went first, leaving Maldynado to follow a few minutes later.
Inside, people meandered through a vast, high-ceilinged room and gathered in clumps around gaming tables. A hundred chandeliers and sconces burned. Steam whistled from coal-powered contraptions that offered moving puzzles and mechanized games of chance. The stuffy heat emanating from the people, lights, and machines reminded Amaranthe of a muggy summer day before a storm.
She let Sicarius lead since he had that knack for getting people to move out of his way without doing anything. Amaranthe, on the other hand, received elbows in the ribs or suggestive jostles from drunken men. Maybe she should try wearing all black and glaring more often.
A familiar key fob dangled from someone’s belt. Several patrons had them. So, not a special token, but items produced in quantities and given out, perhaps as prizes. But why, in this superstitious core of the empire, would someone risk creating dozens, or hundreds, of magical trinkets with the establishment’s name on them? Amaranthe was surprised the glowing orbs outside had not resulted in someone torching the building.
Sicarius surprised her by pausing to watch a complicated version of the shell game. Three table masters sat cross-legged on cushions, sliding containers around with tokens hiding beneath. One had to watch six blurring hands at the same time and point to all the correct spots to win.
“Want to play?” she asked. They had more important things to do, but it did seem like something made for him to win. Perhaps the earnings could pay for some supplies.
“Not challenging,” he said and moved on.
“Cocky, aren’t we?”
“Self-aware.”
“Cockily self-aware?”
He gave her a cool look. She smiled sweetly.
Before they reached the back of the room, a commotion drew a crowd that blocked the way.
“I’m not a cheater!” a familiar voice cried.
Amaranthe groaned. Akstyr.
The meaty sound of a fist striking flesh followed.
“I didn’t-ommph!”
She hustled forward even as the crowd parted. Two bouncers appeared, dragging Akstyr between them. Blood streamed from his split lip and spattered his shirt. Amaranthe stepped forward, lifting a hand, intending to rescue him from the manhandling. But when he spotted her, he widened his eyes and gave a minute head shake.
“Let go of me, you mother-forsaken street eaters!” Akstyr roared and flung his arms wide.
He escaped his escort and stumbled forward, crashing into Amaranthe and Sicarius, seemingly by accident. The bouncers were not thrown for long. One lunged, wrapping an arm around his waist. Akstyr pressed something into Amaranthe’s hand before the thug tore him away. The bouncer threw Akstyr over his shoulder and stomped toward the front door.
Patrons moved out of the way. Amaranthe closed her fist, hiding whatever Akstyr had given her. Cool and metallic, it felt like a key.
Sicarius continued onward without comment. Amaranthe kept herself from looking back to check on Akstyr. He obviously thought they should pretend not to know each other, and that she should investigate…whatever the key led to.
The crowd thinned in the back where two bouncers framed the entrance to a hallway. Amaranthe hustled to slip in front of Sicarius. No doubt he could get past them with force, but she wanted to try honey first.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said, feeling short as she craned her neck back to look each man in the eye. They even towered over Sicarius, though his six feet did not make him tall by imperial standards.
“Employees only,” came the response.
“Yes, I guessed that from your forbidding presence here.” She smiled. “How would we make arrangements to see the boss?”
“Come during the day, and look important.”
“Do I not look important?” Amaranthe asked Sicarius.
“Moderately,” he said without taking his gaze from the bouncers.
“I’ll have to work on increasing my importance aura.” She considered the men again. “What’d that young fellow who was just dragged out of here do?”
“Lady, we’re not here to chat with you.”
“No, but it’s got to be more interesting than standing here like mute statues.”
One grunted in what may have been agreement. The other frowned at Sicarius. Gears whirred behind his eyes, and his face screwed up in concentration. Trying to place Sicarius’s face, Amaranthe guessed.
“He cheated, that’s what they said,” she said. “Is that common?”
“People try it all the time,” the more amenable bouncer said.
“Do you have to inform your employer when it happens?”
“Our employer trusts us to handle such situations ourselves.”
“Yes, I suppose your boss is only interested in fiscal issues that aren’t so easily resolved,” Amaranthe said, an idea percolating through her mind.
Sicarius was watching her, probably wondering if this chat had a purpose.
“Yes, and we’re not paid to talk to girls,” the surlier of the two bouncers said.
“Unfortunately,” the other muttered.
“Of course,” Amaranthe said. “I understand. Thank you for speaking to me.”
As she moved away, the quieter man leaned close to his comrade, whispering something and pointing at Sicarius. Apparently the hooded jacket was not enough of a disguise.
“Looks like you might get some practice defending your head tonight,” Amaranthe told him, veering toward the shell-game table.
“They are not the first here to recognize me,” Sicarius said. “What now? It would be a simple matter to force our way past those men.”
“There are a lot of bouncers on the floor. If those two were knocked out, it wouldn’t go unnoticed for long. I’d like to have a nice conversation with the owner, and given what happened to the fellow we tried to question at that factory, I’d prefer not to do it at knife point.”
He gave her a sharp look. “You think that incident is tied in with this place?”
“I don’t know.” She pointed at a key fob dangling from a man’s pocket watch chain. “But there’s suddenly a lot of magic use popping up in the city.”
“More foreigners.”
“More foreigners who should all be smart enough not to use magic in a city where it’s forbidden.” Amaranthe waved a hand. “We’ll talk to the owner about it.”
“How?”
“I have a hunch we’ll be invited in to chat soon.”
“You have a plan. Should it concern me?”
“Only if your cockiness is unfounded.”
They approached the table.
Sicarius stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You want me to play?”
“I want you to play and win. A lot.”
Seconds ticked past before he released her arm. “Very well, but it’ll take concentration. I’ll need you to watch my back.”
Sicarius had never asked that of her before. Though he watched her back all the time, he had never needed the favor returned, and she did not miss the admission of trust in the request. It meant he was willing to put himself at risk for one of her crazy schemes. The bouncers knew he was here, and who knew who else might have noted his passing and started scheming to collect the bounty?
Amaranthe nodded once. “I understand.”