The Emperor's Edge

The Emperor's Edge Ch. 15 Pt. 1

Before dawn, on the icy dock outside of the cannery, Amaranthe tightened her boot laces. Despite chilled fingers, she took the time to ensure each loop was the same size and tails of identical length hung free from each knot. She wished Hollowcrest’s minions hadn’t taken her spiked leather training shoes—and everything else she owned.

She grabbed her mittens, stood, and jumped in surprise when Sicarius coalesced out of the darkness. No hint of pink brightened the sky over the distant mountains, so she could not see his face, but then it rarely expressed much anyway.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

Was his voice less cool than it had been the day before? She wished she had offered that apology, but bringing it up now would feel awkward.

“To run the lake trail,” Amaranthe said.

“It’s too early. The creature could still be hunting.”

Which was the point. She needed a good look so she could describe this deadly mystery beast to Akstyr. If he could identify it, maybe he could also suggest how to kill it. She planned to run along the waterfront and out toward Fort Urgot, where copious mature trees lined the trail. If it did show up, she hoped to have time to climb out of reach.

All she said to Sicarius was, “You’re out here training every morning before dawn.”

“Very well. Let’s go.”

She blinked. Was that an invitation to join him?

Before she could ask for clarification, he trotted up the dock toward the street. A backward glance suggested he meant for her to follow.

She subdued a grimace and jogged after him, snow and ice crunching beneath her boots. A witness for her first day back, wouldn’t that be lovely?

They turned onto the street and headed for the trail.

“I’m usually a decent runner, but I’m sure I won’t be able to keep up with you today.” Amaranthe hated the idea of wheezing at a mediocre pace in front of him. “Not after being sick and missing so many days of exercise.”

When he did not respond, she forced herself not to utter more preemptive excuses. Why did it matter what he thought anyway?

They passed the first mile in silence, and the docks and warehouses of the waterfront dropped behind. Bare-limbed trees, evergreen shrubbery, and snowy hills marched past. No doubt Sicarius’s gaze absorbed it all. Amaranthe tended to use her running time for inward thoughts, but this morning her eyes probed the shadowy terrain as well.

“May I ask a question?” she asked when minutes drifted past with nothing jumping out at them. Since he was letting her set the pace, her words came out conversationally rather than in spurts and puffs.

A glance her direction was his only response. Not exactly a yes but close enough.

“What’s a Hunter?” She had not forgotten Akstyr’s question from that first morning at the ice house.

“Do you refer to the Nurian word, istapa?” Sicarius asked. “Wizard Hunter?”

“Uh, maybe.”

“How much do you know about Nuria’s history?” he asked.

“About what your average former-business-student-turned-enforcer knows.”

“Little, then.”

“Exactly.” Amaranthe jogged around a large broken branch stretched across the trail.

Sicarius glided over it without breaking stride. “Where we have a warrior caste, Nuria is ruled by a wizard caste. Those who cannot access the mental sciences—the majority of the population—are laborers and slaves. As with our system, there is friction between those with power and those without. Hundreds of years ago, an anti-wizard organization developed with the intention of usurping the government. They believed people could develop an immunity to the mental sciences, especially invasive telepathy, by conditioning the mind.” He spoke as easily as if he were sitting at a table rather than running, but then this pace could hardly challenge him.