Lindsay Buroker - Deadly Games

With her elbows propped on a low wall and aspyglass raised to her eye, she checked each window, searching fora man with a woman and two young boys. She did not know if shewould recognize Raydevk based on a vague memory of the man’sfather, but if she found the right combination of people…

She paused. Could that be it? Beyond athird-story window, a woman sat, knitting on a couch in aclutter-filled, one-room flat. Toys littered the floor at her feet.While Amaranthe was trying to judge if the carved wood blocks andautomata represented boys’ or girls’ playthings, two youngstersscampered into view from behind a room partition formed byfurniture draped with clothing. They chased each other around thewoman’s chair, but an upraised hand and word from her halted that.She thrust a finger toward another clutter-partition, this one witha curtain hanging on a rod to delineate a door. The childrendisappeared into the dark space. Their sleeping area, Amarantheassumed.

Voices sounded below as a couple exited theeating house, and she shifted her elbow to move the spyglass fromher eye. Something gooey made her sleeve stick. She drew her armback with a grimace and picked off tar.

She yawned and glanced around her rooftopperch, thinking of Sicarius’s warning to check her surroundingsfrequently. Moonlight gleamed against a stovepipe and providedenough illumination to confirm nothing stirred nearby. No doors ledto the lower levels of The Brewed Puppy-she had climbed up via adrainpipe-and she doubted anyone except Sicarius would sneak up onher. She returned her attention to the brick building across theway.

“Is he there?” came Sicarius’s voice frombehind her.

Amaranthe almost dropped the spyglass.

“Not yet,” she said, putting her back to thewall so she could face him.

It took her a moment to pick him out,standing in the shadows of a chimney. Had he just arrived? Or hadhe been testing her? Seeing if she would notice him before heannounced himself? And why did she always feel like he was an armyinstructor, bent on training her to be a better soldier?

“You found a uniform?” Amaranthe asked.

He glided out of the shadows, soundless, likea haunting ancestor spirit. The moonlight did not reveal the colorof his outfit, but it appeared less dark than his usual black, andshe thought she detected familiar silver piping and buttons. A boxycap covered much of his blond hair.

“Yes,” he said.

She touched his sleeve when he knelt besideher, and her fingers met the familiar scratchy wool of an enforceruniform. She wore hers as well, the only article of clothing shehad retained from her old life.

“Did you…uhm, where’d you find it?”Amaranthe had asked him not to maul anyone for a uniform, though hedid tend to do things his own way.

“Clothesline.”

“Oh, good.” Her hand bumped an enforcer-issueshort sword hanging from his belt. He had not found that ona clothesline, but it was a typical part of the uniform, so shedecided not to ask. She wore one, too, as well as handcuffs. Shepointed at the window she had identified earlier. “I think I’vespotted the wife and children. Maybe we should…interview herbefore the husband gets home.” Yes, “interview” sounded friendlierthan interrogate. “She might know what he’s up to. I can talk toher, see what I can learn, and you can snoop and see what you canlearn.”

“Too late,” Sicarius said. “The husband hasarrived. Or an enthusiastic lover.”

“Huh?” Amaranthe lifted the spyglass to checkon the flat again, but jerked it from her eye as soon as the scenecame into focus. “Ugh. I don’t want to walk in on that.”

“They’ll stop.” Sicarius started for thedrainpipe leading to an alley below.

“Maybe we should wait until they’re done,”Amaranthe said.

“Why?”

“I’m sure he’ll be in a better moodafterward. Would you want to be interrupted in the middleof…stoking the furnace?”

He said nothing. He probably thought itridiculous to worry about such a thing.

“We’ll just wait here and…” She groped fora way to pass time that would not make Sicarius balk. Chat? No.Draw a grid and play Dirt Defender? No, not enough light. Emulatethe people across the street? Hah. Sure.

“Watch?” Sicarius said when her silence wenton.

“What? No! I used to arrest people forthat.”

Grunts drifted up to the rooftop. The lovershad clambered out of their window and were undressing each other onthe fire escape. That was one way to avoid waking the children,Amaranthe supposed. Though the neighbors might not appreciateit.

“We could discuss the team uniform,” shesaid, joking.

“The what?”

“Maldynado thinks we should have a teamuniform.”

The long silence that followed said plentyabout his opinion of the idea. She collapsed the spyglass, tuckedit into a pocket, and moved away from the edge of the roof so shecould not be seen from the fire escape. “We’ll just take our timegetting over there,” she said.

“The plan?” Sicarius asked.

Yes, it would not be as easy for him to snoopwith two adults in the room. “Back to the original.” Amaranthepatted a pocket that held a forged document neatly folded intoquarters. “It seems we have the magistrate’s permission to searchthe premises.”

“If they recognize one of us?” Sicariusasked.

“I doubt they will. Miners don’t get muchtime off to roam the city and peruse wanted posters.”

“If your source is correct, this onedoes.”

“We’ll adjust the plan if need be,” shesaid.

“It would be far simpler to go in, grab him,and force him to answer questions.”

“Sicarius…” Amaranthe hung her head.“Sespian is never going to want to get to know someone whosesolution for every problem is torturing people. I know it’sefficient, but I don’t think he’s someone who can respect a man whoisn’t humane.”

“Humane,” Sicarius said flatly.

“Yes. At least in one’s actions. Nobody canbe judged for what’s in his thoughts, eh?”

“And the humane thing to do is todisguise ourselves as enforcers and lie to these people to obtainanswers.”

Er, she hated it when she was trying to bemorally superior and someone pointed out that her idea was onlyslightly less sketchy. “I think it’s a…humane option, yes. If allgoes well, nobody will be hurt. Is it ideal? Perhaps not, but Idon’t know of an ideal situation. I’m beginning to think ourcircumstances preclude those. But maybe it’s always been that way.If the legends are anything to go by, being a hero doesn’t meanbeing perfect. Being a hero means overcoming those imperfections todo good anyway.” There that sounded plausible. Or pompous. Was shetruly comparing the two of them to the great heroes of old?“ Anyway, I think Sespian is far more likely to admire someone whoeschews the easy solution, however efficient, in favor of the onethat does no harm. I’m sure of it.”

Sicarius said nothing at first, and shewinced in anticipation of a cold reaction. Surely thephilosophizing of a twenty-six-year-old woman could only make himsnort in derision. Inwardly anyway. He would never deign to be thatexpressive outwardly.

“I see,” Sicarius finally said. “And areyou?”

“Am I what?” she asked. Her own thoughts hadsidetracked her.

“More likely to admire someone likethat.”

Huh. Did he care what she thought ofhim? Enough that he might make a humane decision instead of apractical one? For her? She found herself reluctant to test thathypothesis, for she might be disappointed-and hurt-if it provedfalse down the road. “I know it’s the nature of women to try andchange men, but you don’t have to do anything on my behalf. I’mjust trying to help with Sespian. In my arrogance, I think I’m morelike him than you are, and I may have more insight into what wouldmake him…interested in knowing you.”