“Get in,” Sicarius barked, leaning out to check on his pursuers.
The fastest of the soldiers rounded the corner of the building. The rearmost man gripped the blasting stick in one hand and a lantern in the other, both raised, as if he meant to light the fuse at any second.
“Halt,” Sespian called, stepping forward and lifting a palm. Perhaps more influentially, Maldynado and Basilard raised rifles at the oncoming men. Two soldiers, men he must have already recruited, stepped in front of Sespian, also with firearms at the ready.
“Put down your weapons,” one of them, a man with lieutenant’s rank pins, called.
“But, sir,” one of the lorry’s pursuers protested. “That’s Sicarius. The assassin.”
While this exchange was going on, Amaranthe, Books, and Akstyr piled into the cab behind Sicarius.
“We’re ready,” Amaranthe urged.
Sicarius waited, though, wanting to make certain his son had everything under control. With the prisoners nearby and men who’d been working for Ravido not fifteen minutes before now supposedly on his side, the situation could quickly devolve into chaos.
“Where’s Ravido?” Sicarius asked. “Being kept with the general prisoners?”
“No,” Books said. “Someone-” he gave Amaranthe a long look, “-decided he should be involved in the search for more incendiary devices.”
Akstyr snickered, as if unaware of the tension outside. “Yara is bossing him around the way she does Maldynado. He’ll probably end up stepping on a mine just to get away from her nagging.”
“I am aware of that,” Sespian said, responding to the man with the blasting stick. “The others are outlaws. I’m giving them a chance to redeem themselves by defeating the makarovi.”
“But we were going to chase after the makarovi. Sir. Sire. Uhm.” The confused soldiers looked at each other. The one holding the blasting stick and lantern lowered the items.
“There is a situation here that requires attention. Fill them in, Lieutenant.” Sespian didn’t take his eyes from the men, but he did wave at the lorry. Get out of here, that gesture said. Do your mission. I’m fine.
Yes, Sicarius decided, it seemed he could. Pleased that his son had brought the situation under control, he nudged the lorry forward. With so many people now gathered behind the Barracks, he steered through the courtyard at a less frenetic pace, but as soon as they passed through the gates-someone had instructed the soldiers to open them-he pushed the vehicle to a greater speed. In the city, fires burned up and down the hills sloping down toward the lake; there was more trouble about than the makarovi could account for.
• • •
Amaranthe gripped the back of the seat beside Sicarius and stared out at the dark, slushy streets. They’d already started passing mauled bodies. Not many-the collars had sent the makarovi on a mission, after all, and they were taking the most direct path toward it-but enough. Shouts came from the rooftops of buildings, and lights burned behind shuttered windows and locked doors. The entire city seemed to be awake.
Aside from the bodies, the streets were empty, at least around the base of Arakan Hill. Torches moved in the distance, down by the waterfront. Her chest tightened, and a slight tremble shook her belly, one that had nothing to do with the vibrations of the lorry. She hadn’t wanted to be right about Suan and the makarovi, but Ravido had confirmed it. How much time had passed since those first creatures had left the tunnel? Hours, she feared. Even if they’d paused to… hunt along the way, they were sure to have reached the factory by now. Amaranthe had barely gotten to know Tikaya and Mahliki, but she nonetheless dreaded the thought of losing them.
“Since nobody else is asking,” Akstyr said from his spot behind Sicarius, “why are there blasting sticks in the other seat?”
Sicarius, his face intent as he concentrated on the slippery roads-and perhaps he was watching those torches, too, thinking similar thoughts as Amaranthe-did not reply.
“I assumed that Sicarius, aware of Amaranthe’s tendency for causing explosions, thought to facilitate her ability to induce them by giving those as… a gift,” Books said. “Blasting sticks get more reliable and, ah, speedier results than setting up catastrophic boiler failures in steam vehicles.”
Books was standing in the middle, gripping the ceiling to keep from flying out when they turned corners. Nobody had dared pick up those sticks and slide into the seat next to Sicarius.
“Aw,” Amaranthe said, “did you bring these along for me, Sicarius? That is quite thoughtful.” She almost added a comment about appreciating them as much as her pastry from Curi’s, but didn’t know if he’d want her letting others know he’d done something so domestic as bringing her sweets. Besides, the shock might cause Books to lose his grip on that ceiling bar and fall out of lorry.
Sicarius’s cool sidelong glance convinced her that the thought had been correct. He wasn’t in the mood to be playful. Understandable, since they’d left Sespian with a mess and were heading into another one.
“Look at that fire.” Akstyr thrust a finger toward a two-story brick building on a corner ahead. Flames leapt from the broken front windows, shards of glass gleaming orange on the cleared sidewalk below. The door had been busted in as well.
“That’s Curi’s,” Amaranthe blurted, reflexively stepping toward the exit, an image of leaping out and running for buckets of water flashing through her mind. But… Curi was allied with Forge, or had been. No matter how tasty her pastries were, maybe she deserved this end. Besides, with the way those flames were jumping, taming the chaos would take the Imperial Fire Brigade, not a couple of people with buckets.
“Looting,” Books said with disgust. “Hoodlums.”
As the lorry neared the intersection, two youths in oversized clothing slouched out of the shop, carrying bulging bags of stolen goods. One held a display platter full of sweets tucked under one arm. Again, Amaranthe was tempted to order Sicarius to stop, so they could jump out and deal with the thieves. Even if Curi deserved a bad turn for her alliance to Forge, criminals shouldn’t get away with pillaging and vandalism. The team couldn’t delay though, not when they were already hours behind those monsters.
Akstyr shrank away from the side of the cab. The pastries stuffed into the youths’ mouths didn’t hinder their ability to make crude gestures. Amaranthe couldn’t tell if they were aimed at the lorry in general or at Akstyr. The backs of those hands were branded, though she couldn’t tell with which marks.
Sicarius turned the corner, and the gang members disappeared from view. More buildings burned on either side of the wide street ahead, though there were fewer people out than she would have expected. Looting could grow widespread quickly. Where were the enforcers? Chasing makarovi?
The canal and a bridge came into view. Not much farther to the waterfront. Ah, there were the enforcers-a steam wagon rolled over the bridge at the same time as Sicarius crossed from the other side. Both vehicles scooted to the far sides, allowing room for the other to pass.
An enforcer leaned out of the back of the wagon with a megaphone. “Makarovi are loose in the city. Return to your homes. Do not take up arms. We will handle it.” It sounded like a litany he had repeated many times that night.
“How do they propose to handle it while they’re driving in the other direction?” Books asked.
“I’m sure there are numerous vehicles patrolling and looking for them. Or maybe enough are already at the factory to handle things.”
As they drove closer to the waterfront, they passed army vehicles as well with men on the roofs manning search lights, probing the alleys on either side of the streets.
“This way,” Amaranthe wanted to yell, “we know where they are.”
In truth, she didn’t know that. The makarovi might have already dealt with Suan and moved on to harassing the city at large.