“I’ve never even seen a mare-cat.” Tollen folded his arms over his chest and raised skeptical eyebrows. “And I’ve seen a lot.”
“Where were you stationed?” Amaranthe asked.
“I spent most of my years on the southern borders, guarding against the Kendorians and the savages from the desert.”
“Then you’ve probably seen magic before?” she guessed.
Tollen hesitated before spitting the, “There’s no such thing as magic,” line expected from a soldier.
Amaranthe took that hesitation to mean yes. “Well, something otherwise unexplainable is drawing unlikely predators to your camp. I readThe Gazettethis morning, and there was nothing mentioned about strange creature sightings elsewhere.”
“The enforcers who came out yesterday said the same,” Nelli admitted. She looked at Sicarius. “I assume those creatures are deadly?”
“Very.”
“I’ve got to get the rest of my people in here then. Tents won’t deter a predator that size. It’ll be crowded, but better than the alternative.” Nelli nodded to her father. “Will you help me, Da?”
“We’ll come, too,” Amaranthe said.
“We don’t need your help,” Tollen growled, thrusting out a hand to stop her.
Tempted to go anyway, Amaranthe stopped when Nelli shook her head.
“We’ll be fine,” she said. “It’ll just take a moment.”
As soon as the duo left, Sicarius caught Amaranthe’s eye and jerked his chin toward the loft ladder. She followed him up, and they found a small table in the back.
“What is it?” Wind railed at the roof, and she eyed the split-log ceiling. “Something worse than mare-cats?”
“You should know-” Sicarius looked at her steadily, dark eyes holding hers, “-I remember killing a Corporal Tollen near the Kendorian border.”
Amaranthe winced. “Uncle Ordin?”
“I don’t know his first name. Tollen was on his fatigue jacket. His body is in a canebrake in Deadscar Ravine, south of Fort Erstden.”
She dropped her face into her hands and rubbed her forehead. She had bumped up against Sicarius’s past a number of times and couldn’t claim to be surprised. With a million ranmyas on his head, bounty hunters were frequent visitors, and every soldier and enforcer in the empire had orders to kill him on sight. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an unjustly placed bounty. Long before she had met him, he had assassinated Lords Generals, satrap governors, famous entrepreneurs, and various other Important People. If he weren’t now in her employ, she would have a much easier time clearing her name, but she owed him her life a dozen times over. More, she knew most of his secrets, and she wasn’t entirely sure he would let her walk away with them in her head for any torture-happy maniac to discover.
“All right.” She leaned back in the hard wooden chair. Melting snow trickled down her collar. “Let’s not share that information. I suspect that’d push Tollen over the edge, and you’d defend yourself, and-” she sighed, “-it’s not good for business to kill the client’s father.”
No hint of a smile or appreciation for her humor cracked Sicarius’s facade. By now, she was used to it.
“I followed the cougar tracks to the lake’s edge,” he said. “They disappeared.”
She knew he did not mean he had lost the trail. “What do you think is going on here?”
“There are numerous possibilities. I need more information to make a useful guess.”
He produced a weapons cleaning kit and started removing knives and daggers. Amaranthe pushed back her chair and stood.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To get information.”
“Stay inside.”
“You don’t think I should interview the mare-cats, huh?” She smiled.
He didn’t.
Amaranthe shrugged, then descended the ladder. Her boots had barely touched down on the sawdust floor when a screech sounded above the wind. Shouts followed, and a cry of pain rose above it all. A pistol shot fired.
Sword in hand, she ran to the door. It burst open before she grabbed the latch. A mass of people tumbled through. A huge black form leaped inside, landing amongst them.
The creature spun and writhed like a cat, legs raking in every direction. Claws slashed people’s clothing and tore into flesh. Slavering fangs glinted with the reflection of lamplight before digging into a man’s shoulder. Screams of pain and desperation bounced from the timbers.
Amaranthe stabbed at the mare-cat’s hindquarters, but iron-hard muscle armored the creature. Her blade barely cut through the sleek fur. A long tail slapped her face. The fight rolled away before she could attack again.
“Close the door!” Tollen cried from the middle of the jumble.
Before obeying, Amaranthe glanced outside to make sure no more people were trying to get in. Two mare-cats leaped straight at her.
She slammed the door shut and lunged for the bar. It dropped into place just as the creatures crashed into the wood.
The impact flung her back a pace, and the timbers trembled. The door held-for the moment.
She whirled back toward the fight.
The mare-cat had its feet under it now and shook off attackers like a dog flinging water from its coat.
Nelli slipped in the blood-slick sawdust and pitched to the floor. The creature pinned her with one massive paw and raised the other to strike, dagger-like claws extended.
“No!” Tollen fired his second pistol.
The shot lodged in the creature’s shoulder, but it didn’t seem to notice.
A black figure dropped from the loft. Sicarius.
He landed on the mare-cat, arm wrapping under its great head. He pulled it back and slashed a dagger across the beast’s throat.
With blood spurting from the severed artery, the beast finally faltered. Men fell upon it with picks and axes. Even after it had stopped moving, they hacked, striking back at the fear that had haunted them the last couple days.
Tollen pulled his daughter back, but his gaze pinned Sicarius, who had backed away as soon as his part was done. Not a drop of blood splashed his skin or clothing. Elsewhere, it looked-and smelled-like a butcher shop. The expression painting Tollen’s face was neither gratitude nor jealousy, but anguish…defeat. The emotion surprised Amaranthe, and it took her a moment to make her way around the carnage to Nelli’s side.
“Are you all right?” Amaranthe helped her old friend to stand.
“Yes.” Nelli looked about, her lips moving as she counted heads. A couple men and women clutched at injuries, but no one’s wounds appeared life-threatening.
Outside the door, several screeches competed with the wind.
“We all made it,” Nelli said. “Thank you. Tell your man, thank you.”
“I will.” Amaranthe’s lip twitched into a half smile. Sicarius had mastered the art of appearing unapproachable, and she had grown accustomed to being the conduit through which messages traveled to him.
The crashes at the door continued. People cringed with each blow. How long could the bar and hinges hold against those heavy bodies? Occasionally the shutters rattled as well, as the cats tested the windows. Amaranthe thought them too big to enter that way, but who knew? Soon, footfalls sounded on the roof as something heavy prowled about up there. Every thump, every gust of wind, made people flinch.
No doubt to keep people’s minds occupied, Tollen started barking orders. “Let’s get this mess cleaned up, our people fixed up, and some food in bellies.”
Until they could take the body outside, there was a limit to what they could do, but Amaranthe helped sweep up the blood-drenched sawdust for later disposal. Sicarius returned to his weapons cleaning. Despite the crowded cabin, everyone gave him space. Merla started fixing soup in a pot over the coal stove.
“Hello,” Amaranthe said, coming up beside her. Time to start looking for information.
The other woman shrank away.
“Rough night,” was all Amaranthe said.