“They’re all gang thugs. They’re probablygoing to get a death sentence anyway.”
“The lady said the wizard wasyoung.”
Amaranthe mumbled, “What has Akstyrdone?”
Sicarius said nothing.
She had seen enough. She jumped down, herfeet stirring a cloud of fine dust when she landed. It tickled hernose, and she pinched her nostrils shut. The last thing she neededwas to alert the enforcers to her presence with a mighty sneeze.Sicarius alighted beside her, somehow not kicking up any of thedust covering the sun-faded bricks.
“Let’s warn Akstyr and Books,” she whisperedand headed into the maze. Warn wasn’t exactly what she wanted to dowith Akstyr. Kick might be a better verb. Maybe he had a goodreason for doing something that had made someone think he was awizard, but she doubted it.
Their hideout lay a half a mile to the east,close to the far boundary of the boneyard, and she hoped they wouldhave time before the enforcers made it over there. Between thehundreds of rail cars and the narrow, cluttered aisles of junk andweeds between them, the area would not be easy to navigate with asteam wagon. Of course, she and Sicarius had been gone all day. Theenforcers might have already been to their hideout. That thoughtstirred worry in her gut, but, no, even if they had searched hersection of the boneyard, their words implied they had not capturedAkstyr yet.
Amaranthe relaxed when she heard familiarvoices.
“I did not mistranslate it,” Bookssaid.
“Well, it’s not working,” Akstyr huffed. “Itried three times.”
“Perhaps the error is not with thetranslation but your interpretation.”
“Are you calling me inept, old man?”
A clang reverberated from within a railcar.
Amaranthe and Sicarius turned down the deadend to their hideout. Books stumbled out of the “parlor” car with apalm pressed to his temple. She’d thought the men were past thepoint of engaging in fisticuffs if she was not around to mediate,but perhaps not.
“Did Akstyr hit you?” she asked. Maybe sheshould let the enforcers find him.
Books waved an acknowledgement of theirarrival and said, “Not exactly. His concoction emitted fumes thatcaused me to lunge away and smack my head on the wall.”
Sicarius climbed the nearest car and crouchedon the roof, standing watch.
Since it appeared Books would recover,Amaranthe gave him a pat on the shoulder and went straight tobusiness. “There are enforcers searching the boneyard for a youngwizard with a gang brand.”
Akstyr stuck his head out of the rail car.The usual spiky queue he styled his hair into had sagged, leaving alimp carrot top dangling on either side. Soot and blue goo stainedwhat had started out as a baggy white shirt. A faint smudgedecorated his upper lip.
“What?” he asked. “Why?”
“I thought you might know,” Amaranthe said,reaching for her kerchief. “Been performing your arts on anybodyoutside of our group?”
“I wish he wouldn’t perform them on anybodyinside the group,” Books muttered, his hand still clutchedto his temple.
“Uhh… I don’t know what you’re talkingabout,” Akstyr told Amaranthe.
“Positive?” she asked.
Akstyr shoved his hands in his pockets.“Yes.”
“What about that girl you were talking tothis morning?” Books asked.
Akstyr scowled at him. “I can’t talk togirls?”
“She was comely and well-dressed,” Bookssaid. “Maybe warrior caste.”
“What’re you saying? That no good-lookinggirls would talk to me?”
“Essentially.” Books lowered his hand andcurled a lip when his fingers came away bloody.
Amaranthe glanced up at Sicarius, not surethey should be wasting this time with the enforcers nearby. Hewriggled his fingers in one of Basilard’s signs. The predators werecloser, but not yet a threat.
“Akstyr,” Amaranthe said, “what you do withyour talents is your choice, but doing it where the group is hidingout can get us all in trouble.”
He bent his head and kicked at a weedthrusting from beneath one of the rusted car wheels. “I just wantedto make some money on the side. You don’t pay us hardly nothing,and I’ve got expenses. I don’t just drink and whore like Maldynado.I’ve got to buy books and components for researching now.” Hejerked his elbow toward the car without taking his hands out of hispockets.
“Understandable,” Amaranthe said. “Nexttime…” She approached him with the kerchief. The smudge above hislips was bugging her. Since his hands were occupied, she figuredshe could clean it off before he objected. She dampened it andswiped it beneath his nose.
“What’re you doing?” he balked.
“Cleaning that smudge,” she said.
“What smudge? There’s no smudge.”
“No, there’s definitely something there.”Despite his protests, she managed to give it a good rub.
“Amaranthe, you’re tormenting the lad,” Bookssaid, though his eyes glinted with amusement.
“Huh,” she said. “It won’t come off. Oh, it’shair.”
“It’s not hair.” Akstyr stepped out ofreach. “It’s a mustache.”
“I don’t see anything,” Books said.
“That’s because you’re senile.” Akstyr liftedhis nose and smoothed his upper lip to show it off. “Anyone canplainly see that it’s coming in nicely. I’ve been working on it forseveral days now.”
“I see,” Amaranthe said. “A bit on the wispyside still.”
“Wispy and invisible,” Books muttered.
She shook her head and settled for wipingsome of the goo off of Akstyr’s face and shirt. He sighed deeplyunder this torture.
“As I was saying,” Amaranthe said, “nexttime, just come to me if you need help purchasing items that canbenefit the group. I’ll find a way to get the money.”
“And don’t be a dolt and bring your…clientshere,” Books said. “What’d you do for her anyway?”
Amaranthe wondered that, too. And how had thewoman known to find Akstyr? Honored ancestors, he didn’t haveflyers out around the city, did he?
“Healed her,” Akstyr said.
“Nothing appeared to ail her,” Bookssaid.
“Look, it was her toenail, all right? Somefungus. It was all black and nasty. Could we not talk about it?This isn’t exactly what I dreamed about when I started studyingthis stuff. It’s embarrassing. I wish I could go to Kyatt orsomewhere that I could study real Science and learn to dointeresting things.”
Leave the empire? Was that the goal to whichhe aspired? Amaranthe supposed she could understand that, given thedanger his studies brought him here, but she would have to keep aneye on him. If he planned to leave, he probably did not care aboutexoneration or accolades from the emperor. The day might come whenhis goals were at odds with hers.
“Well…” Amaranthe rested a hand on herbelly. “I’ve found your healing skills to be quiteinteresting. And useful. In a thank-you-for-saving-my-life kind ofway.”
Akstyr grunted.
“And please update your flyers to make surepeople know you’d rather visit them than have them visit here,” sheadded.
“I don’t have flyers.”
“Update whatever your promotional method is,”Amaranthe said. “Now, tell me about your research. Did you findanything?”
“Oh!” Akstyr clambered into the rail car.
“I didn’t mean to send him scurrying away,”she murmured.
“We found a fine yellow powder inside a divotin the cork,” Books said. “It was visible only with a magnifyingglass.”
Akstyr popped back out again, a hefty tomebalanced in his arms. He held it open, displaying weathered pagesfull of foreign text comprised of sweeping curlicues andcomplicated symbols. Amaranthe could not imagine writing a page inthe ornate script, much less an entire book.
“What language is that?” she asked.
“It’s Nurian,” Books said, “though acalligraphy version. It was most difficult to translate, and it didnot help that someone was impatiently breathing down-”