“Sicarius?” Amaranthe called from the doorway of the pipe room.
He did not answer. She had sent Books off to purchase supplies while making a stop of her own on the way back, and she had not seen any of the men yet. She held a book under one arm for Akstyr, but she wanted to confer with Sicarius first, preferably in private. Books’s interest in Vonsha concerned her, or, more accurately, Vonsha concerned her.
“Sicarius?” she called again, squinting into the gloomy corner where she had seen him last.
The only sounds in the pumping house came from the endless ker-thunks of the machinery. Her mind conjured unpleasant thoughts. What if the water did more than make people sick? What if drinking it proved deadly? What if her men—her friends—were...
Down the narrow hall, a door slammed open. Maldynado, wet and naked, staggered out, a cloud of steam wafting out with him.
“What are you doing?” Amaranthe forced her gaze upward, toward his face, and fought against the blush encroaching upon her cheeks.
Maldynado pushed damp curls off his forehead and squinted at her. “Oh. Hullo.” He yelled a warning through the open door: “Boss lady’s back home in case you want to cover your dangle-sticks.”
Apparently, he could not be bothered to take his own advice. He shuffled down the hall toward her, using the wall for support. She would have guessed him drunk, but supposed he was still sick. That kept her from lecturing him on the inappropriateness of nudity in the pumping house. Even if he did not worry about propriety in front of a woman, there were all sorts of machines with moving parts that could catch unprotected...protrusions.
“The outfit looks good.” Maldynado smirked. “I’d flirt and charm, but I’m not feeling well enough for that.”
“You seem to be doing better,” she said, not wanting to fuel any comments about her attire. “You’re standing...without vomiting.”
Books climbed down the ladder with canvas market bags hanging from his shoulders. He landed in the hallway behind Amaranthe and groaned when he spotted Maldynado. “Why are you wet? And naked? Buffoon.”
“A little better,” Maldynado said, answering Amaranthe and ignoring Books. “We turned the boiler room into a steam bath. Sicarius and Basilard said the Mangdorians sit in steam huts to purify their contaminated blood and sweat out sickness, and some of them live to over a hundred. So we figured we could turn that big old furnace into a steam generator.”
“Did you move my work—all those notes and newspapers—out first?” Books asked.
Maldynado touched a finger to a chin in need of a razor. “Perhaps...not.”
“You thoughtless nude oaf. Why didn’t you go to the public baths?”
“Because we’re sick. And that would have involved walking. Far. And I’m a wanted man, you know. I can’t be too careful what with the bounty on my head.”
Amaranthe could not resist: “Books is wanted, too, now. His bounty is for five thousand ranmyas.”
Maldynado staggered, pressing a hand against the wall for support. “What? How is yours more than mine? You’re not even a threat to anyone. Now, me, I’m threatening.”
“Especially to any paperwork left out,” Books groused.
Amaranthe maneuvered past Maldynado, careful not to bump anything, and left them to squabble. She wanted to talk to Sicarius, preferably not with Books in the room.
Basilard and Akstyr shuffled out as she was about to enter. Thankfully, they wore towels about their waists. Amaranthe stopped, holding the book out for Akstyr, and his eyes locked on it.
YOU ARE READING
The Emperor's Edge 2: Dark Currents
FantasyIt's been three months since former enforcer Amaranthe Lokdon and the notorious assassin Sicarius thwarted kidnappers and saved the emperor's life. The problem? Nobody knows they were responsible for this good deed. Worse, they're being blamed for t...
