Perhaps she will grow out of finding trouble, Basilard signed to Tikaya. Biology sounds like a sedate career.
“Not the way Mahliki does it,” Tikaya murmured. “Is this the spot?” She looked from a piece of paper in her hand to a plaque full of dock numbers.
“What’s the address?” Amaranthe asked.
“1473. Yes, there it is.” Tikaya tapped the second to last number on the plaque.
They had stopped at the head of a long dock with dozens of boathouses and berths to either side, all empty at this time of year. A layer of ice had finally formed, crusting around the pilings and stretching across the entire lake. It didn’t appear thick, but it would be soon.
“When did they arrive?” Amaranthe asked as they started down the long dock.
“I’m not certain if they’re here yet, but it wouldn’t have been long ago if they are. They had to go around the Cutter Horn, through the Tiberian Gulf, and up the Goldar River, a much less direct route than our train trip through the heartland. If they’re not here, I’ll leave a note as to where they can find Rias.”
Amaranthe chewed on her lip, not certain how she felt about leaving notes with directions to their hideout. But with hundreds of soldiers now occupying the factory, it wasn’t going to remain a secret to their enemies for long anyway.
Maldynado tossed a snowball at an icicle hanging from the eaves of a small boathouse. It shivered and fell, shattering on the ice below. “Will they be able to come up through all that if they’re in a submarine?”
Tikaya paused to peer over the side. “I’m not very familiar with ice-how thick is that? Can you tell?”
“Less than two inches,” Amaranthe said. “I wouldn’t walk on it yet.”
“Ah, they can break through that then.”
“And if it gets thicker before they get here?” Maldynado adjusted his hat and pushed a tendril out of his eyes. “Huge trucks drive out there in the winter, you know.”
“Do they? That must be an interesting sight.” Tikaya resumed her walk down the dock. They passed the structural remains of a boathouse that had succumbed to fire recently, its singed frame leaning precariously toward the lake. “I’m sure they’ll figure out a way to break through. If nothing else, it being a Starcrestian design, there are weapons.”
Amaranthe was imagining what sorts of weapons might work underwater when they passed the corner of the last boathouse along the dock and came face-to-face with two enforcers. The men were staring down at a jagged hole in the ice with a dark gray hatch visible in the middle of it. Before Amaranthe waved her men forward, Basilard and Maldynado were already in motion. She allowed herself a smidgeon of pride at the quickness with which they flattened the enforcers to the dock. Their crossbows and short swords skidded across the frosty boards to stop at her feet.
“Tie them, boss?” Maldynado asked.
“Yes, please.”
The four soldiers assigned to Tikaya made a few choked noises and sent silent queries toward her. For them, enforcers weren’t enemies, and they had to question this manhandling.
“I believe those are the uniforms and accoutrements of law enforcement officers,” Tikaya said. “Is that correct?”
“Yes,” Amaranthe said, “but I’ve found it easier to nullify them than to explain that we are indeed trying to help the city. For some odd reason, they rarely believe me.”
Basilard finished tying his man and knelt back to sign, Might have something to do with the number of wanted posters featuring your face.
“Possibly.” Amaranthe pointed toward the boathouse. “Put them in there, please.”
The soldiers were shifting their weight and fingering their weapons. Amaranthe’s response must not have mollified them.
“We’ll leave their bonds loose enough that they can work themselves free shortly after we’ve gone,” she told them, then pointed at the hatch and asked Tikaya, “Is that familiar?”
“It is.” She seemed to be looking for a way to reach it. Though the submarine had come up in the 1473 berth, it was about four feet from the dock. Given the water and possibly ice that coated the concave hatch, landing on it without slipping off would prove a challenge.
“Basilard,” Amaranthe said, “you’re the most agile of us. I don’t suppose you’d hop out there and… knock?”
Basilard nodded and shrugged off his pack.
Maldynado frowned. “I’m agile too.”
“Yes, but I thought the hat might throw off your balance.”
That drew a snort from one of the soldiers, though his comrades were quick to glare him to silence.
Basilard made the leap, landing lightly on the hatch, his fingers touching down to steady himself. He considered it for a moment, then, as Amaranthe had suggested, knocked politely. She wondered if the enforcers had already tried that. For that matter, what had drawn them out to investigate? The boom of a weapon being fired to break the ice?
“You may want to stand in view of the opening,” Amaranthe told Tikaya, pointing her farther out on the dock. “In case they’re the sort to come out armed, a familiar face could keep an incident from occurring.”
“Yes, of course.” Tikaya picked her way out along the icy arm of the dock.
The hatch didn’t open though. Basilard spread his hands, asking what to try next.
“Is it possible they’ve arrived and gone into the city to explore?” Amaranthe asked, though if they’d broken through the surface with some weapon recently-as the enforcers standing around suggested-they shouldn’t have had time to wander off to explore anything yet.
“It’s possible,” Tikaya said.
A crack sounded behind Basilard, and he whirled about. A metal pipe of some sort broke through the ice and shot up a foot. There was a perpendicular bend near the tip, and it rotated toward them, the opening at the end reminding Amaranthe of a firearm’s muzzle.
She yanked out her pistol. “Is that a weapon?”
“No.” Tikaya waved at the orifice. “A periscope.”
Realizing the “muzzle” was glassed over, Amaranthe lowered her weapon.
“You may want to jump back, Mister Basilard,” Tikaya said. “If they come out, they’ll open the-”
A clank-thunk-clank sounded beneath Basilard’s feet. Eyes widening, he leaped back to the dock. A moment later, the hatch swung open, and a young woman with long raven hair braided similarly to her mother’s appeared in the opening. She had more of her father’s coloring, with olive skin less prone to freckles, but the blue eyes were much like Tikaya’s. It made for a striking combination, and Amaranthe wondered if she’d have to remind Maldynado that he was in a relationship, a monogamous one, insofar as she’d heard.
“Good to see you, dear,” Tikaya said warmly, still speaking in Turgonian. “Is Lonaeo well too?”
“Yes,” the girl, Mahliki, Amaranthe reminded herself, said. She didn’t send her mother a greeting, rather she peered in all directions visible from the hatchway. “Is it gone?”
“It?” Amaranthe and Tikaya asked at the same time.
“That black cube.”
Amaranthe rocked back on her heels. “You saw one? Out here?” Her mind spun. Maybe the girl meant something else. Something perfectly ordinary, like a… a… yes, what, Amaranthe?
“A kelbhet?” Tikaya asked. “You’re sure?”
“It looked exactly like the ones in your drawings,” Mahliki said.
“And it shot a red beam at us,” came a male voice from within the submarine.
“Yes, that was the truly defining trait,” Mahliki said dryly. Her rigid shoulders relaxed when she didn’t see any sign of the deadly device. “It was hovering above the lake when we arrived. We popped out and it veered in this direction. It shot its beam and-ah, yes, there’s the recipient of its damage.” She pointed at the boathouse Amaranthe had assumed burned in a fire.
“Odd,” Tikaya said. “The kelbhet are typically much tidier when they’re incinerating something.”