Lindsay Buroker: Beneath the Surface

The blocky shapes of crates loomed ahead of her, and she picked her way around them. At first, she thought her eyes had adjusted more fully to the darkness and she was finally able to see slightly, but she’d been in the dark for an hour or more. No, almost imperceptibly, the light level had increased.

Amaranthe stood as fully as she could, her upper back and head pressed to the top of the stage. Peering over crates, she tried to pinpoint the direction of the light source. Though faint, it had a familiar yellowish tinge. Her stomach sank. Someone had uncovered the grate. Their prisoners must have escaped their bonds.

She glanced at the dark wall where the enforcers were trying to cut through, then back toward the grate. “It’ll take them a while to saw out a hole,” she muttered and headed for the glow. She thought about yelling a warning to Sicarius, but if the enforcers had freed themselves, it’d be better to sneak up and catch them by surprise. Bloody ancestors, she hoped it was just one and not all four.

Still clenching the sword, Amaranthe crept closer, easing around the crates, careful to step toe first and test each floorboard before placing her weight behind it. The light brightened, but she didn’t come across anyone. She thought about circling around to the far side, but decided to take a peek at the grate first. How much was exposed? Did the enforcers know what lay below?

Amaranthe peered around a corner. Five feet away, yellow light seeped through the grate. The entire width was exposed, the crate pushed to one side. Bright after the hour in the darkness, the illumination made her squint. It took a moment for her to realize that it wasn’t shining through the bars of the grate. The entire grate hung open.

She stared at it in confusion. As far as she knew, Sicarius had the only key. Why would he have opened it? Or left the trapdoor to do so? He wouldn’t have. The enforcers must have evaded the magic somehow and picked the lock.

A shadow moved beneath the opening. Someone was already down there. Amaranthe had the presence of mind to keep her string of curses silent. She wanted to check the area around the grate, to see if other enforcers lurked in the darkness, poised to protect their investigating comrade, but she dared not delay, not when a single slip could kill everybody on the boat.

Amaranthe hustled forward. She glimpsed brown hair beneath a gray enforcer cap and lifted her sword, intending to clunk the man with the hilt. Something moved to her left.

She spun, adjusting her grip and thrusting her blade out in front. A man surged out of the shadows between two crates. Something glinted in his hand. She lifted the sword, throwing her second hand onto the hilt to brace it. The man’s eyes bulged, but he’d seen the weapon too late. He impaled himself on it, his scream belting Amaranthe’s ears.

He still tried to plunge his own weapon down, to finish off Amaranthe with his dying breath. She dropped to the floor, rolling away from the grate, and pulling the sword after her, or trying. The man’s momentum had forced the blade deep.

A knife thunked into the wooden deck, inches from her ear. She jerked away, but something new slammed into her. Another enforcer.

The back of her head banged into a crate hard enough to stun her. She let go of the stuck sword and scrabbled for the dagger at her waist. The rage-filled face of one of the snarling prisoners filled her view, and he pinned her with his weight. He raised a dagger of his own, and she saw her death in his eyes.

Hands grasped him under the armpits, yanking him off of her.

“ Sicarius,” Amaranthe breathed, then lunged for her sword, fearing they’d have another two enforcers to face. This time she succeeded in yanking it free. She spun around, ready to fight more, but the enforcer facing her had a familiar face.

“ It’s not always Sicarius, you know,” Sespian said with a sad sigh.

“ Amaranthe, are you all right?” came Books’s voice from the storage area. He climbed out, grunting at the tight quarters and banging his head on the top of the stage. “Oof, am I all right?”

“ Not usually,” Akstyr said, crawling out after Books. They were all wearing enforcer uniforms. A cap mashed down Akstyr’s hair, but Amaranthe doubted anyone would believe him a law keeper, not with that brand on his hand and the ever-present sneer on his lips. Then again, the outfits had gotten them this far.

“ Is Basilard with you?” Amaranthe asked.

“ He’s guarding the new entrance,” Books said.

For a moment, Amaranthe could only stare as the men crowded into the space around her. New… entrance? Finally, realization trickled into her mind. They must have cut a hole in that bulkhead Sicarius had mentioned and come through from engineering. She’d get the details later. “Good to see you. What about Maldynado and Yara? Any sign of them?”

“ Nothing,” Books said. “Sorry.”

“ All right. We have work to do. Sicarius is guarding the entrance over there.” Amaranthe flung a hand in his direction. “Akstyr, we might need you to hurl some Science about. There are two more enforcers in here-” she pointed toward the back wall, though they’d probably moved by now, “-maybe tied, maybe not.” She eyed the two men who’d attacked her. Sespian had disarmed her second foe without killing him, but the first… She swallowed. It’d been too much to hope that they could destroy the weapons and escape without killing anyone. She shoved the thought to the side for later. “Sespian and Books, come with me. The ones outside may have cut their way in by now.”

Reminded of the fact, Amaranthe rushed toward the front of the stage.

“ Also,” she added over her shoulder, “thank you for coming. Excellent timing.”

“ You’re welcome.” How Books managed to beam when his six-and-a-half-foot frame was bent into a three-foot-high space, she didn’t know, but he looked pleased with himself. “It’s not often we get to save her,” he whispered to Sespian. “Sicarius usually handles that.”

“ I don’t need rescuing that often,” Amaranthe said.

“ Is that why she moons after him?” Sespian asked.

“ Most likely,” Books said before Amaranthe could manage a flushed protest. “If I rescued her every week, she might have started mooning over me instead.”

“ I don’t need rescuing every week,” Amaranthe protested again, though the notion of all the men thinking she mooned after Sicarius bothered her more than the rescuing bit.

“ Bi-monthly?” Books suggested.

“ All right, I’ll give you that. Though-” she glanced back at Sespian, “-sometimes I’m the one rescuing other people on the team.”

Books offered an agreeable nod.

They’d reached the front wall, and she picked her way along, searching for what she expected to be a gaping hole by now. She hoped the enforcers weren’t already streaming inside, but feared her delay had given them the time they needed. Had she known her own team was inside the cargo area, she would have left the escaped prisoners for them to deal with.

In the dim area, spotting the light ahead wasn’t difficult. As Amaranthe had expected, it seeped through a jagged hole in the front wall. A hole with a head sticking through it. With his face tilted up, the man sawed a serrated blade back and forth, trying to widen the new entrance. Amaranthe hoped the partial progress meant nobody had made his way inside yet, though the opening appeared wide enough that a small or medium-sized man could have wriggled through it.

A soft clunk came from behind, Books or Sespian bumping something. Amaranthe winced, fearing the noise would give away their approach. The enforcer kept sawing, perhaps not hearing anything over the rasp of wood, but she didn’t want to take another chance. Leaving the others behind, she surged ahead. The darkness allowed her to approach unseen.