He stared at her without expression. Amaranthe shifted her weight, and snow compacted beneath her boots.
“I understand you probably don’t get asked that often,” she said, “but the expected responses are yes and no. Stony silence is not helpful, though if it was accompanied by a nod or head shake it would be decipherable. And, yes, I realize I’m being cocky considering you almost killed me five minutes ago, but you changed your mind for some reason that I suspect has nothing to do with me, so I figure I’ve got little to lose.”
Amaranthe was beginning to see the strategy behind that silent, unresponsive face. It made her uncomfortable and had her babbling like an idiot.
Sicarius drew a black dagger. She tensed, but he simply held it out.
The curving blade was edged only on one side. At first, she thought it had been painted, but the metal itself was black. A dye? Or some uncommon alloy?
“Take it with you to the Barracks,” Sicarius said. “Tell the guards you succeeded in killing me. Show them this as proof. Hollowcrest will recognize it, and he will take your meeting out of curiosity. What happens after that is for you to determine.”
Amaranthe accepted the weapon. She held the exotic blade across the palm of her hand. Expecting the icy bite of metal, she was surprised by its warmth, like a rock basking in the sun. She brushed her thumb along the edge. Even the faint touch drew blood.
“I’ll bring this back to you,” Amaranthe said, “and let you know what I learned.”
He twitched an indifferent shoulder.
She met Sicarius’s eyes.
You don’t think I’m coming back, do you?
She lifted her chin. “When would you like to meet?”
She
was
going to come back.
“The trail. Choose a spot. I’ll find you.”
“What time?”
“Dusk. I’ll look for you for the next three days. If you don’t come, I’ll assume you’re dead.”
“Thanks,” Amaranthe said dryly.
Sicarius started to walk away again. This time he paused of his own accord. Over his shoulder, he said, “There are hidden exits in the dungeons beneath the Imperial Barracks. Follow the drafts to find them.”
Amaranthe watched him disappear into the darkness.
T
he Imperial Barracks were still imposing, maybe more so. The black walls loomed taller than Amaranthe remembered, the cannons larger. The guards at the gate were much bigger. Maybe the runty ones—less than six and a half feet—had been on shift for her previous visit.
She strode toward the gate, more nervous than she had been the first time. Her breathing sounded quick and shallow in her ears. She had changed back into her enforcer uniform and exchanged the crossbow for her service-issue sword and knife. Sicarius’s dagger was tucked into her belt. Hairpins she could open her handcuffs with secured her bun. She had no idea if she could pick a dungeon cell lock with them but hoped she would get a chance to talk to Sespian before Hollowcrest condemned her to that fate—or a worse one.
The two guards watched her approach, one a corporal, one a private, both with disdainful eyes. Their mail jingled as they moved to block her way.
“State your purpose.”
Amaranthe drew a deep breath, exhaled, and watched it form a cloud. “I’m Corporal Lokdon, an enforcer from the Commercial District. I’m here to see Commander of the Armies Hollowcrest.”
“It’s late, and he doesn’t see people without an appointment.”
Which she did not have this time.
“Corporal.” What were the odds she could cow him? It was not likely; imperial guards were not intimidated by enforcers, less so by women. It would be Hollowcrest’s name that swayed them, if anything. “I have been on a mission assigned by the Commander himself. He instructed me to report back to him immediately upon its completion.”
“What mission?”
“To kill the assassin, Sicarius.” Before they could start laughing, she tapped the hilt of the black dagger. “I brought the criminal’s favorite weapon as proof of his demise.”
Their eyes narrowed. One man extended his hand, palm up. She hesitated. Dare she give up her only evidence? Hollowcrest might take the dagger and send her away without a meeting. Or have her killed at the doorstep. But surely he would want to know how she succeeded—especially if he intended her to fail. With that not-exactly-hopeful thought, Amaranthe handed the dagger to the guard.
He studied it. “Interesting metal, but this could belong to anybody.”
“Commander of the Armies Hollowcrest said he would know Sicarius’s foul blade if he saw it.” Not exactly true, but she could hardly admit Sicarius had been the one to suggest the idea.
The corporal handed the weapon to his comrade. “Run this up to his office and check.”
The lower-ranking man paled, obviously not enthused about disturbing Hollowcrest. He accepted the dagger as if it were a venomous snake, unlocked the gate, and trotted into the courtyard.
Neither Amaranthe nor the corporal spoke while his comrade was gone, though he sent numerous suspicious glances her direction. She leaned against the wall and did her best to ignore him. A nearby clock tower tolled ten times.
The waiting gave her time to think—and doubt. She had no leverage to hold over Hollowcrest to make him answer her questions. She was walking naked into the grimbal’s den, hoping chance gave her a weapon before the fearsome predator ate her. It was the sort of ‘plan’ she would have chastised a rookie for presenting. If Hollowcrest wanted her dead, it would be more logical to flee fast and far. She could go back to her flat, collect her savings, and leave the city forever. Of course, she would spend her whole life wondering if there might be an assassin on her trail. And then there was that niggling comment about the emperor and the tea. If she left now, she would not only be running away from her life, but she would be abandoning Sespian, the emperor she had sworn to honor and protect the day she became an enforcer.
When the soldier returned, he no longer carried Sicarius’s dagger. Amaranthe’s stomach lurched.
“Hollowcrest will see her,” he told his superior, voice laced with surprise. “I’m to relieve her of weapons and escort her to his office.”
“Very well.” The corporal tilted his chin toward Amaranthe as if he were granting some vast favor. “You may pass.”
Amaranthe decided against saying anything lippy or smug. She might pass this way again and had no idea what terms she would be on with Hollowcrest on the return trip. The guard searched her and confiscated her weapons.
“Come with me,” he said.
The same guard stood outside Hollowcrest’s door, though he regarded her with curious eyes this time.
“You killed Sicarius?” he asked as Amaranthe’s escort left without a word.
“Yes.”
“That’s…impressive.”
“Thank you.”
The guard straightened and seemed to remember his lines: “The Commander of the Armies isn’t here yet, but you may wait inside. He’ll be there shortly.”
Amaranthe entered and closed the door behind her. The office remained the same, though without Hollowcrest’s cool presence, it felt less imposing.
She inched forward. Maybe she had time to snoop.
On the desk, next to Sicarius’s dagger, a fat book hung precariously over the edge, one inadvertent nudge from landing in the trash can.
Leave it be. It’s snooping time, not desk-tidying time.
Amaranthe stared at the crooked tome for a few heartbeats before disobeying her inner voice.
She crossed the room and straightened the book so its edges precisely lined up with the edges of the desk. She noticed a piece of paper tucked—hidden?—between the pages. After a moment of hesitation, she stuck her thumb into the book to mark the spot and plucked the unattached sheet free.
Hollowcrest
, it read,
you said the emperor was under your control. Your puppet hasn’t made any of the changes we—
A thump sounded behind the wall to Amaranthe’s right. She jumped back from the desk. A vertical crack appeared—a hidden door. She stuffed the note into her pocket.
Hollowcrest emerged from the passage.
Don’t notice the book, don’t notice the book….
His glare never left her face as he moved around the desk to sit. Hostility gleamed in those eyes. That verified Sicarius’s supposition more thoroughly than any words could.
No, sir, you didn’t expect me to succeed, did you?
“Corporal Lokdon, it’s good that you’ve returned unharmed. And so soon. Remarkable results.” His smile was as icy as the frost gathered on the panes of the window behind his desk.
“Thank you, sir.”
“This is indeed Sicarius’s dagger.” Hollowcrest ticked a fingernail against the dark metal. A conflagration of emotions swarmed across his face; in the mix, she thought she detected both anger and regret, neither of which seemed right. The cold facade returned quickly, masking further emotion. Much like Sicarius, she mused, except the assassin did it better.
“Yes, sir.”
“How did you manage to kill him?”
“Actually, sir, I’d like to start with a question of my own.” Tension coursed through her body, and she felt like a trap poised to spring. She had never questioned a superior officer. It was not done. “Why did you send me to die?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Sicarius is a professional at a deadly game I’ve little experience in. He appears out of the dark and moves across snow without making a sound. If he’s interested at all in women, I doubt he’d let it interfere with business. I no longer believe you expected me to defeat him.”
“Obviously, you did. The details, please.”
Amaranthe considered that cool face. Hollowcrest was not going to give anything away, and he certainly wasn’t going to answer her questions. She would be hauled off to a dungeon—or the gallows—never knowing why. Her only hope was to try and surprise him, startle the answers out of him.
“Sicarius isn’t dead,” she said. “He gave me the knife. We reached an agreement.”
“No!” Hollowcrest surged to his feet, upending his chair.
Amaranthe reacted without thinking. She grabbed the dagger from his desk and held it defensively before her.
“You conniving bitch,” Hollowcrest growled. “I don’t believe you seduced him too.”
What?
How had he come up with that? Her mind caught up to her surprise, and she asked the more pertinent question: “Too?”
Hollowcrest seemed to notice the dagger in her hand for the first time. Amaranthe lowered it but made no move to return it.
“What do you mean, ‘too’?” she asked. “You can’t possibly be talking about…”
“Sespian.” Hollowcrest never took his eyes from the dagger, though calculation, not concern, showed on his face.
“How could I have seduced him? I haven’t—”
“Spare me your meager denials. He came back the day he met you, gushing about a fabulous enforcer woman. How competent and pretty she was. What a wonderful mother she’d make. I couldn’t risk Sespian courting someone so—” Hollowcrest’s sneer took in the dagger, “—inappropriate. It was easier to get rid you than to turn his interests elsewhere.”
“You sent me off to my death so that I wouldn’t inconvenience your marriage plans for the emperor?”
“Precisely. A shame you weren’t considerate enough to die.”
“I spoke to him twice.” Amaranthe spread her arms. “I assure you I have no designs on the emperor.”
“You lie. I saw the ambition on your face when I spoke of a promotion. But why settle for being a lieutenant when you could be an empress? A seat next to the most powerful man in the empire, whispering in his ear, influencing him, having everything you ever dreamed of.”
“I can see why that would concern you, since you currently occupy that position.” Her audacity surprised her, but it hardly mattered if she offended Hollowcrest now. If he was telling her all this, he had already decided to have her killed. She frowned. Actually, there was no reason for him to explain anything, even if he
did
plan to kill her. It was almost as if he was stalling.
“I deserve the position,” Hollowcrest said. “I have the experience. I’m the one who worked with his father for more than thirty years.”
“What would the emperor say about that?” she asked. “I assume he doesn’t know you’re drugging him.”
“And he’s not going to know.” Hollowcrest opened a drawer.
Before Amaranthe could reply, the door swung open. She turned, and she abruptly knew why Hollowcrest had been stalling.
The emperor and his six bodyguards crowded the hallway. At first he appeared delighted to see her, but a startled question flashed across his eyes when he spotted the dagger in her hand. Then he looked harder at it. Those eyes widened and his jaw sagged open.
Amaranthe winced.
Sicarius, you didn’t tell me the emperor would recognize your dagger too.
“Sire,” she started, “I can—”
Papers rustled behind her. She whirled. Hollowcrest lunged at her with a knife. Instinctively, she sidestepped and lifted Sicarius’s dagger. Going over the desk made Hollowcrest’s attack awkward, and she blocked it with her own stab. Her blade raked across his forearm. Hollowcrest cursed and dropped the knife.
“She’s a traitor,” he yelled. “Kill her!”
Steel rasped from scabbards, and the guards charged.
“No!” Sespian grabbed at the closest, but none of the men paused. They were following Hollowcrest’s orders, not his.
Amaranthe jumped onto the desk, flung her arms over her face, and leaped through the window.
• • • • •
Sespian grabbed the doorjamb, stunned. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room. Swords in hand, the guards started to run for the door.
“Nobody leaves!” Sespian blocked the exit with his body, trapping them inside.
The guards looked at Hollowcrest. Sespian noticed they were more concerned about his
advisor’s
orders than his, but he could only stare at the window.
Had Amaranthe survived? Broken an arm? A leg? Sespian swallowed. Her neck?
Torn between needing to know and being afraid to find out, he hesitated before going to the window. Finally he started across the room. He had to know.