Deadly Games (18 page)

The man froze for a heartbeat, then dove
forward into a roll. He twisted and came to his feet, facing
Amaranthe. His hand went to the dagger, only to find it missing.
Bewilderment widened his eyes.

Amaranthe held up the blade and raised her
eyebrows. “Mind if we skip further attempts at complicating my day?
If you tell me how you found out this place was vacant, I imagine I
can look the other way over this robbery.”

“Velks!” the man shouted.

“I see, you wish to complicate my day.”

“Velks!” he cried again.

A grunt sounded in the living area. The man
gave Amaranthe a you’re-in-trouble-now look, to which she shook her
head sadly. This fellow, barely older than a boy, judging by the
thinness of the goatee he aspired to grow, did not seem too
bright.

When his comrade, Velks presumably, came to
stand beside Amaranthe, his arms were twisted behind his back,
courtesy of Maldynado who loomed behind him. Velks appeared little
older than the first young man, and they shared a squareness of
face. Brothers?

“Got him, boss,” Maldynado said.

“Tie them up, please,” Amaranthe said.

“Gently or roughly?”

“Neither!” Velks blurted with a heroic
attempt to twist free.

Maldynado yawned, unperturbed by the slender
man’s efforts.

“Yes, neither.” The younger man eyed
Amaranthe’s sword, but with Maldynado blocking the exit, he did not
attempt anything physical.

“That depends,” Amaranthe said. “Are you
working for someone I shouldn’t annoy, or are you
independent...entrepreneurs?”

The old enforcer in her hated the idea of
turning her back on a crime because the criminals were working for
a gang leader or another influential underworld figure, but she had
spent the last few months trying to establish connections with a
few of those types, and she would look the other way if it meant
keeping contacts happy. If they were independent thieves, she saw
nothing wrong with trussing them up and sending a tip to Enforcer
Headquarters so they could be collected.

“We’re working for Sicarius,” Velks said.

For half a second, Amaranthe thought he might
be telling the truth, that Sicarius had sent them back to hunt for
clues or some such, but she caught herself. That was wishful
thinking, a hope that Sicarius was about and on the mission. Even
if this man’s eyes had not darted up and to the left when he
spoke—according to Sicarius, that was a tell for many folks when
they were lying—the story was implausible. Before he met her,
Sicarius had always worked alone. He would not use errand boys.

“Yes, that’s right,” the younger brother
said. “We know him real well, and he’ll assassinate you if you
bother us.”

“Assassinate you for certain,” Velks said.
“He owes us a favor on account of us taking him out for drinks last
night.”

“You lads aren’t very good at this,”
Maldynado said. “So, boss, gentle or rough for the tying?”

“Actually...” Amaranthe eyed the clothing
strewn about the floor. “I believe they’d like to clean up their
mess first. Take their weapons and help them find a broom.”

“Clean?” The thieves exchanged incredulous
looks.

“Yes,” Amaranthe said. “It’s a type of work.
Like stabbing people with knives, but with less blood
involved.”

Maldynado shrugged and patted down the first
man for weapons. “As long as I’m not the one waylaying the dust
balls, I don’t care.”

While he monitored them, Amaranthe searched
the room. One of the thieves tried to flee for the door when
Maldynado thrust a feather duster into his hands. Maldynado pounded
an unapologetic fist into the man’s nose, convincing him to suffer
the task without further escape attempts. He wiped at a trickle of
blood with his sleeve and glowered at Amaranthe.

“I thought you said cleaning didn’t involve
blood,” he growled.

“I said it involved less blood than stabbing
people, not no blood,” she said without looking up from the desk
drawers she was rifling through.

Fifteen minutes of searching did not reveal
anything interesting. She checked the tote the first thief had been
carrying out when she interrupted them, but it contained only
valuables, modest ones commensurate with the income level of a
miner.

Amaranthe drummed her fingers against her
thigh and considered the thieves again. “Did you gentlemen take
anything out of here before we found you?”

“No.”

Maldynado grabbed Velks by the collar and
hoisted him up to his tiptoes. “Are you positive?”

“Positive!”

“Were you looking for anything when you broke
in?” Amaranthe asked.

“No, just stuff to fence. We live downstairs,
saw the family leave last night.”

She watched his eyes, but nothing in his face
implied he was lying. The other one nodded, and he, too, appeared
sincere.

“What lovely neighbors this place has,”
Maldynado said. “Go out for the night, and they’re in your flat,
pawning your silverware before lunchtime the next day.”

“Have you noticed any men coming and going,
visiting this flat?” Amaranthe asked.

“You mean the other miners?” Velks asked.

“Yes. How long has that been going on?”

The brother lifted his feather duster. “Why
should we answer all these questions? What’s in it for us?”

“I could restrain myself from punching you
again,” Maldynado said.

“Now, now, no need to be brutish,” Amaranthe
told him while considering the thieves thoughtfully. “If the flat
is cleaned up and everything is put back, I don’t think there’s a
need to tell the enforcers you were here.
If
you answer my
questions.”

“You were going to tell the enforcers?” Velks
asked. “You’re thieves, too, aren’t you?”

“No, we’re investigators.”

Both brothers’ brows furrowed. She imagined
them trying to figure out if “investigators” were people who were
legally on the premises or not. She decided not to clarify.

“About these miners,” she said, “how long
have they been visiting?”

“Seen some of them before,” Velks said, “but
they only started coming all the time last week.”

“Did they stay here when they met, or did
they start here and go someplace else?”

Velks shrugged. “How should I know? We didn’t
sit up here with our ears pressed to the door.”

The brother snapped his fingers. “But that
one time, when we were sitting on the steps, hoping to get a look
up girls’ dresses when they went up, we did hear them say
something, remember?”

“Don’t tell people about that,” Velks
hissed.

“About what they said?”

“About the dresses, you idiot.”

Maldynado leaned a hand against the wall and
shook his head. “Not too bright, are they?” he mouthed to
Amaranthe.

“You never tried that tactic?” she asked.

“I never had to resort to such desperate
measures. Women couldn’t wait to lift their dresses when I was
around.”

Amaranthe kept from rolling her eyes—she
had
encouraged him by asking after all—and turned back to
the thieves. “What’d you hear them say?”

“They were going with Raydevk to meet a girl
at a fountain,” Velks said.

Oh, yes, that was a priceless gem of
information. Still, if the men had all been going together, maybe
it had been more than a tryst. “What fountain?” she asked.

Velks glanced at his brother who only
shrugged. “They didn’t say.”

Amaranthe asked a few more questions, hoping
she might tease more out of the would-be burglars’ heads, but they
proved feeble resources at best. While they finished cleaning, she
searched every last nook of the flat, even going so far as to thump
at floorboards in case any covered a hollow storage niche.

She knelt, doing a last check of the areas
beneath the beds, when Velks spoke again. “Can we go?”

“We cleaned everything and put everything
back that we took,” his brother said. “We even got rid of those
gummy food stains that we were
not
responsible for.”

“We even did the windows!” Velks added.

Maldynado snickered. He was lounging on the
sofa, playing with a sliding puzzle block in which one had to find
appropriate niches for various war implements. Apparently the
thieves had not made an escape attempt in a while.

“Yes, you may go.” Amaranthe returned the
dagger she had taken from them and surveyed the flat. It sparkled.
Huh. “Gentlemen?” she added, stopping them in the middle of a
sprint for the door.

“What?” Velks asked, shoulders hunched.

“You do good work. Perhaps you should
consider a career in the cleaning services.”

“
Cleaning
services?” Their mouths
gaped open.

“Men don’t clean, they fight!” one said.

“And they run over imperial enemies with
giant steam trampers and they tear down massive fortifications with
those brilliant new rammers.” Velks sighed longingly.

“Are you two planning to join the military?”
Amaranthe asked, thinking they appeared old enough—Akstyr’s age at
least.

Maldynado yawned and gave her a
why-are-we-spending-so-much-time-here look as he thunked a puzzle
piece into place.

“Maybe.” Velks shrugged.

Probably a no then. “Madame Rawdik on Fourth
runs an industrial cleaning outfit. They have a steam pressure
washer as big as a tramper. If you worked for her, you could
probably ride it.”

Two sets of eyes grew round. “Really? I
didn’t know there was such a thing.”

“If you decide to apply for a job, tell her
that her old school friend Amaranthe says you do good work.”

Their eyes remained wide, and they exchanged
gapes with her. It wasn’t
that
much of a favor. Had nobody
ever vouched for them for anything before?

“Thanks,” Velks said, and his brother nodded
and scampered out the door. Velks hesitated, his face screwed up in
concentration. “I don’t know if it helps, but those miners also
said...the girl they were seeing had...fire hair? Fiery hair. And
she was worth pounding like a steam hammer. I listened to that
part, on account of, well—it was about a woman.”

“I see,” Amaranthe said. “Thank you.”

The young men left, and Maldynado thunked a
final piece into the puzzle before tossing it onto a chair. “How’d
you know?” he asked.

“Know what?”

“That they had more information.”

“I didn’t.” She winked. “I just like to
reform wayward youths whenever possible.”

“That’s very noble. I bet Deret likes noble
women.”

“Don’t start with that again, or I’ll try to
reform you.”

“I’m hardly a youth.”

“But you don’t argue against needing reform?”
Amaranthe headed for the door.

“Not really, no.” Maldynado opened it for
her. “What’s next?”

“We have Akstyr update his search. He’s not
just looking for that powder at the apothecaries; he’s asking
clerks if they remember a sexy red-headed woman coming in and doing
the shopping. That’s far from a normal hair color in the
empire.”

“Ah, Akstyr will be doing the work?
Excellent.” He followed her into the hallway.

“Oh, no, we’ll be searching the neighborhood
and contemplating all the fountains within a two miles radius.”

Maldynado stopped walking and flopped against
the wall. “
All
the... This is Stumps! There are almost as
many fountains in the city as there are headless statues.”

“There aren’t
that
many,” Amaranthe
said.

“There’s one at every intersection.”

“Every other intersection, at the most.”

“That’s still a
lot
. And just because
these people
met
at a fountain the other night doesn’t mean
they’ll be loitering nearby now.”

“I know. It’s not much to go on. I’ll think
on it while we watch Basilard compete this afternoon.”

“Yes.” Maldynado snapped his fingers. “And we
need to get there early. No fountain searching on the way. What if
someone tries to kidnap him?”

“I doubt anyone knows who he is,” Amaranthe
said, amused at how quickly Maldynado could start scheming his way
out of work. “He entered with his Mangdorian name, didn’t he?” Even
if people knew a “Basilard” ran with Sicarius, nobody in the city
would know his real name.

Maldynado snickered. “Not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.”

* * * * *

Basilard hopped up and down and swung his
arms. He was one of six athletes left in the staging area, and he
did not think anyone else appeared as nervous as he. Though it was
the first day of events, and only a third of the benches in the
stadium were filled, Basilard could not help but feel as if
thousands of eyes watched him. Already, he had visited the washouts
beneath the stands three times, both to urinate and to throw
up.

He remembered being nervous before the pit
fights, but not this nervous. Strange, considering his life had
been on the line there, and people had shouted and jeered from
above, calling out for bloodshed. Maybe it was because he had more
to win here. It wasn’t just an extension of his own existence, but
a visit with the emperor and a chance to speak for his people. If
he did not get himself killed trying to take out Sicarius first. He
growled at himself, annoyed with the situation. He never should
have gone to visit that priestess.

Basilard distracted himself by studying a
large blackboard near the furnace. So far, two people had beaten
the best time he had recorded with Maldynado or Akstyr. He hoped
daylight—and the exhilaration of the moment coursing through his
blood—would help him improve. To go out in the first round would be
a shame.

“It’s all right,” a familiar voice said. “I’m
his coach.”

“You don’t look like a coach. You look like a
professor.”

“Why, thank you,” Books said.