“You say you have an infestation of some sort?” Amaranthe called back. “Maybe we can help you come up with a suitable pesticide.” If the makarovi were roaming around inside the building, she envisioned lobbing burning blasting sticks through those broken windows. Then she envisioned one landing too close to a support post and the entire structure coming down. It was possible her idea needed refinement.
“That’s good,” Deret said, “because-”
A rifle cracked behind Starcrest’s project. There were two more soldiers in the center of the roof that Amaranthe hadn’t seen. One rushed to push a crate back atop the trapdoor that led to the interior.
“-the pests are particularly problematic this time of year,” Deret finished, his voice grim.
By now, Starcrest and the others had heard the exchange and noticed their company too. The admiral lifted a hand, but otherwise continued to work. Tikaya responded similarly. Suan wore a someone-get-me-off-this-roof-now-please expression. Did she have any idea that the makarovi were there for her?
Mahliki abandoned her project and raced to the edge of the roof. “My gas. Did it knock them out?”
Akstyr snickered. “Not all women can say things like that, but she’s pretty enough that I wouldn’t mock her for it.”
Amaranthe swatted him on the chest. “It did,” she called to Mahliki. “But we ran into trouble. The makarovi came from the Imperial Barracks.”
“What? How?” Deret called.
Starcrest lifted his head for more than a second this time.
“It seems Ravido Marblecrest wasn’t planning to be Forge’s spineless figurehead after all. He schemed this up with a shaman comrade. Those collars control them. They’re being sent to kill the remaining Forge founders. And I think they’ve accomplished their mission, save one.”
Suan lifted a hand to her lips. Yes, it’s you, Amaranthe thought.
“That explains their uncharacteristic tenacity,” Starcrest said.
“You might be able to shoot off their collars,” Amaranthe called. “We were able to break one that way last year.”
Deret cursed. “I didn’t even see any collars with those shaggy necks.”
“The fur makes them difficult to see, but they’re there. Of course, it’s not all that much better when they’re free of control.”
“Understood,” Starcrest said. “We’d have a hard time getting at them anyway, as they’re all downstairs right now, tearing up the inside of the building, but I’d rather they stay here in one place than wander into the city and kill people wantonly.”
“Trust me,” Amaranthe said, “they did plenty of that on their way down here.”
Starcrest and Deret both grimaced.
“They’re… dead because of me?” Suan asked. “I haven’t even… I mean…” She stared down at her hands.
Tikaya gripped her shoulder and said something Amaranthe couldn’t hear.
“What are you building, sir?” Books pointed to the pipe rectangle-it had to stand more than fifteen feet high.
“A very large mousetrap,” Starcrest said. “With bait, I thought we might lure the makarovi outside to one spot.” He waved toward the street below the roof. “And drop it over them. It’s very heavy-they shouldn’t be able to lift it without a combined effort, and I don’t believe they have that much intelligence.” He pointed to the smokestacks. “We’re making a winch, to lower it down.”
“Now they know who would work as bait,” Akstyr said.
“I’m just happy it’s not me this time,” Amaranthe muttered.
Another shot fired from the center of the roof. This time, she saw the trapdoor and the crate atop it jump several inches. After the soldiers stationed there had shoved their obstruction back into place, Starcrest asked them a question. They returned affirmative waves, if shaky ones.
“How many are down there?” Amaranthe asked.
“Six.”
Amaranthe wished her people could see the makarovi through the factory’s broken windows, thus to pepper them with rifle fire and whatever else they could come up with, but she hadn’t glimpsed so much as a shadow moving. The beasts must all be up on the catwalks, jumping for that trapdoor.
“Scoot back.” Sicarius touched her arm.
Amaranthe allowed herself to be guided back from the edge. “What is it?”
“There are vehicles driving down the street from the canal, and I spotted a boy observing us from the shadows up there.” He pointed up the street their warehouse and the factory shared, the one running perpendicular to the waterfront.
“Observing us specifically? Or the intersection in general?” Amaranthe waved to include the factory rooftop.
“Our group,” Sicarius said. “He ran back into an alley when he noticed me watching him back.”
“Gangs?” Akstyr took a big step away from the edge of the roof.
“He was scruffy, with ill-fitting clothing.”
Akstyr had once again dressed in his collection of ill-fitting clothing when the team had returned to the capital, and he scowled at this description.
“Why would they come here?” Books asked. “Are they unaware of the makarovi? They’re out in the streets; they must have seen the ravaged bodies.”
“What they saw,” Amaranthe said, “was a whole lot of chaos and a prime opportunity for looting.”
“Two of them also saw us drive by,” Sicarius said. “We were not making an effort to disguise ourselves.”
Akstyr stomped his foot. “Curse those frosting-sucking brats at the bakery. Don’t I have enough to worry about right now?”
“Your bounty is meager in comparison to Sicarius’s,” Books pointed out. “They may target him instead.”
“Thanks, Books,” Amaranthe said drily, because she knew Sicarius wouldn’t.
“They’ll go after me,” Akstyr grumbled. “I don’t have that deadly reputation. And they’ll be mad because of the way I embarrassed some of them at the docks last week.”
“We have the high ground,” Sicarius said, “and are well armed.”
“Let’s not worry yet. We’ll keep an eye on them-” Amaranthe nodded to Sicarius, silently assigning him the task, “-but let’s see what we can do to move this makarovi trap along.” She faced the factory again. “Admiral, we may have unpleasant visitors coming. Is there anything we can do to help you?”
“What kind of visitors?” Starcrest asked.
Amaranthe hated shouting everything for the whole neighborhood to hear, but doubted Tikaya would be able to read hand signs from that distance. She was busy with the winch anyway.
“Gangs,” Amaranthe said.
“Do they fancy themselves makarovi hunters?”
“Unlikely. They’re extremely superstitious when it comes to magic, and they know Akstyr’s a wizard. Also, three out of the four people on this roof have bounties on their heads.” Amaranthe lowered her voice to add an aside to Sicarius, who had returned from a check of the corners and the door leading into the warehouse below. “By the way, you really should spank Sespian someday for putting that bounty on your head.”
Akstyr made a choking sound at this image.
Sicarius grunted. Wistfully? Amaranthe wasn’t sure.
“At the least, he could have removed it before he asked us to kidnap him,” she said.
“He hasn’t removed your bounty either, has he?” Books asked her.
“No. Shortsighted of him. We should have made that a condition of our rescue.”
“Perhaps you should be spanking him too.” Akstyr grinned. At least the conversation seemed to have brightened his glower a touch.
“I don’t think I have that right as a non-parent,” Amaranthe said.
“If you and Sicarius were to marry, you’d be his stepmother,” Books pointed out.
“Alas, there’s probably an age when one can’t get away with spanking a young man anymore.”
“Well,” Books said, “there’s an age where being spanked by a woman becomes less disciplinary and more… titillating.”