Lindsay Buroker - Dark Currents

Maldynado arched his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t you surround yourself with pleasant things when you’re healing?”

As Sicarius stepped to Amaranthe’s side, he fixed a glare on Maldynado, who threw his hands up and backed away. Akstyr shrugged and went down to the water. Basilard-the one she most wanted out of earshot-picked up a spyglass and joined Akstyr.

“Where were you during all this?” Amaranthe asked when Sicarius crouched beside her.

“In the dam, looking for the shaman.” His dark glare returned to Maldynado. “I was told he was in there.”

“I agree with Maldynado that it’s strange this fellow would take Books as bait for one of us, but these Mangdorians have made it clear they want you.”

“This whole plot would not have been conceived to get at me.”

She checked on Basilard. Too far away to listen in on their conversation, he was scanning the opposite shoreline with the spyglass. Maldynado sat on a stump, ears turned toward Amaranthe and Sicarius. Though she was not sure he was close enough to hear, she caught his eye and waved for him to move farther away.

“Maybe the shaman isn’t worrying about his partners or the water scheme at this point,” Amaranthe said. “Maybe, with you in his sights, he’s changed focus. He could have taken Books, hoping you’d come for him or that Books would provide information on you.” When Sicarius did not respond, she lifted a hand, palm up. “Either way, we have to find the shaman and get Books back.”

“He could be anywhere,” Sicarius said.

“Not if he wants you to find him.”

“I can’t track teleportation,” Sicarius said.

“He has a hideout.”

A beat passed, but Sicarius remembered without prompting. “The enforcer sergeant did not tell you where.”

“No, but she’s on her way back with reinforcements, right?”

Maldynado ambled over. “You two done being private and secretive yet?”

“No,” Sicarius said as Amaranthe said, “Yes.”

Maldynado took that as an invitation to sit down.

“She’s on her way back with reinforcements,” Sicarius said. “Probably a company or two from the garrison. She’ll be surrounded.”

“I just need a few minutes with her.”

“You need to rest,” Sicarius said.

“I agree with him,” Maldynado said. “Did you see yourself when you were unconscious? You looked dead.”

“We need to talk to her,” Amaranthe said.

“I will question the woman,” Sicarius said.

“No!” Amaranthe tried to sit up, but agony ripped through her belly, and she flopped back with a hiss. “No. Sicarius, you’re, uhm, I appreciate your willingness to help, but diplomacy isn’t your biggest strength.”

“I wasn’t going to be diplomatic.”

“I know, and therein lies the problem. When they get back, I need to go. We’ll take it slow, wait for nightfall. Sneak in, chat, then leave. No problem.”

“Five minutes,” Sicarius said.

“What?”

“How long you lasted acquiescing to my wisdom.”

“Oh.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “Are you sure it wasn’t closer to ten?”

• • • • •

Raindrops pattered on the forest floor. Cold water dripped from the branches and splashed onto Amaranthe’s neck, dribbling under her collar. The stink of burning coal hung over the lake and irritated her eyes and nose. The soldiers had brought a caravan of steam vehicles this time.

Though she leaned against Sicarius for support, her abdomen and back stung with each slow, carefully placed step. Sweat bathed her face, and she breathed through gritted teeth. Under other circumstances, she might have appreciated the heat of Sicarius’s body and the corded muscle beneath his sleeve, but she was busy distracting herself from her discomfort by mulling over what she planned to say to Sergeant Yara. Should she explain the whole story? Everything that had happened since last they talked? No, best to keep it succinct. It was unlikely Amaranthe would get more than a few minutes with Yara, if that. Let the woman research on her own and form her own conclusions.

Sicarius steered her away from a route that would have ended with her crashing into a tree. “We’re close,” he said in a tone that implied paying attention would be good.

“We sure this is a good time to infiltrate their camp?” Maldynado asked softly. He, Akstyr, and Basilard gathered close.

All around the lake, lanterns glowed as soldiers searched the area in pairs. Campfires burned ahead, and Amaranthe could make out the outline of tents through the trees. Many more tents than had been there previously.

“Must be nice to get paid to show up after all the work’s done,” Akstyr said.

“Not all the work,” Maldynado said. “We’ve got to get Booksie back.”

Amaranthe smiled. For all that those two sniped at each other, Maldynado actually seemed to consider Books a friend. She was not sure Books reciprocated that feeling, but perhaps he would one day.

“Yes,” she said. “It’s a shame the soldiers are too late for the fun. I wonder…”

“What.” Sicarius’s tone did not make it sound like a question.

“Nothing. Let’s find Sergeant Yara.”

“Back to my original question,” Maldynado said. “Shouldn’t we wait until everyone is sleeping? These people are…” He lowered his voice as a pair of soldiers trod past twenty meters ahead. “These people are looking for trouble.”

“Yes, but most of them are outside of the camp,” Amaranthe said. “If they’re still worried about the makarovi, Sergeant Yara will likely be inside.” Unless the soldiers left the enforcers behind when they decided to return en masse. She frowned at the thought. As aloof as Yara had been, she already knew about Amaranthe. It would be harder to stalk in and convince a stranger of her team’s deeds.

“Still plenty in the camp,” Sicarius said.

True. Several men stood guard at points around the perimeter, while others dug latrines, shoveled coal for the steam vehicles, and performed other tasks they had probably not anticipated when they enlisted. A couple of soldiers stood outside the tent Sergeant Yara had occupied the last time Sicarius dragged her out to talk. A flag proclaimed it had been turned into headquarters.

“We’ll have to create a distraction.” Amaranthe considered Maldynado.

“I’m always happy to be distracting,” he said, “though it’s usually the ladies who are likely to stop and ogle. What if we get in a tussle with these boys? How do you want us to defend ourselves?”

“We can’t kill anybody,” Amaranthe said. “All the work we’ve done out here will mean nothing if we kill a single soldier. They won’t believe anything we say.”

“Don’t we have that problem anyway?” Akstyr asked. “Nobody is left alive who saw us in the dam.”

“That’s right,” Maldynado said. “As far as the soldiers know, they can credit this to some anonymous good-deed-doer.”

“That licks donkey crotch,” Akstyr said.

“Relax, gentlemen,” Amaranthe said. “I intend to make sure we get credit and find out where Books is located.”

She waited, anticipating more of an argument. Surely, they would realize she had nothing with which to back up her promise. Sicarius, especially, would know she had not won over Sergeant Yara. Even if Amaranthe could convince her their story was true, having a rural, female enforcer on their side was hardly the fast route to a pardon. Yara would have little power or sway outside her precinct and perhaps not much more inside.

“All right, boss,” Maldynado said. “We trust you. What’s this distraction you want?”

Amaranthe smiled bleakly. Skepticism would have been easier to deal with. Instead the mantel of expectation weighed upon her shoulders.