Maldynado lingered at the head of the table. “Ah, My Lord President? Shall I... report for work tomorrow?”
Starcrest managed to keep from looking exasperated at Maldynado, an impressive feat for many people. “Come to my office in the morning. I’ll see if anyone can use you for anything.”
“Thank you, My Lord.” Maldynado looked pleased as he waved farewell to Amaranthe. Considering he had the status of errand boy so far, she wasn’t sure why, but this employment seemed to matter to him.
When Amaranthe, Sicarius, Tikaya, and Starcrest were alone, the president waved for them to join him at the head of the table. This time, Sicarius deigned to sit, taking a seat that allowed him to observe the door. Amaranthe slid in next to Tikaya. She wanted to ask the professor a question regarding Kyattese obstetricians and what they could and could not do, though only if she could find a private moment. The president probably didn’t care about her female problems.
“My friends,” Starcrest said, spreading his hands, palms up, “I have a feeling the Explorer can be a great asset to us in defeating this plant—even if we find a way to eradicate it on land, we don’t want the roots to remain at the bottom of the lake, waiting for an opportune time to repopulate. Thus I need it repaired. I can grab a couple of engineers and handle the mechanical aspects, but I can’t do anything about the power source.”
“Finding a Maker in the city—in all of Turgonia—may be impossible,” Tikaya said. “Is there no way a mundane solution could be offered?”
Starcrest stroked his chin. “I’ve done a little reading since returning home, and I see progress has been made in regard to refining useful fuels from petroleum, but given our time frame, a coal-fired steam engine would be the most likely possibility, and that’s not particularly feasible for a submarine. Especially that compact submarine, which, again given our time frame, is what we have available.”
“We’ve encountered practitioners in the city before,” Amaranthe said. “Aside from the ones who have traveled over just for the purpose of assassinating someone. Sicarius once found one to heal me of a disease with no mundane cure.”
“They come as refugees or to hide,” Sicarius said. “It may be possible to find a Maker.”
“Excellent. Tikaya—” Starcrest gave her an apologetic smile, “—would you mind going with them if they find someone and relaying the specifications? You know the woman who Made the Explorer’s power source intimately.”
“Because she’s my ex-fiancé’s mother,” Tikaya explained to Amaranthe dryly. “Though she’s continued to Make models over the years because of Rias and not because of our relationship.”
“Pardon?” Amaranthe had always found the professor’s Turgonian flawless, but she didn’t catch the nuances here.
“It’s not important,” Starcrest said.
“The woman is one of his admirers,” Tikaya said. “She’s read every Admiral Starcrest in the Such-and-Such novel out there. She’s almost eighty now and has been retired for ages, but she continues to make submarine power sources for her special client.”
“A fanatic, eh?” Amaranthe smiled at Sicarius, knowing he had read a number of those books as well.
He said nothing, though his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Yes, he had been a boy at the time, but Amaranthe hadn’t noticed that adulation wearing off much. Still, he could have far worse role models.
“Yes,” Tikaya said. “It’s a shame we can’t simply arrange for her to be sent here to Make a new device. Or to send her a message, have her Make it, and then ship it. We do have that communication device to contact my mother if necessary.”
“Even if Iweue began working right away, it would take three weeks to ship the item here,” Starcrest said. “Unless you know someone who could teleport it to the capital?”
“Teleporting somewhere you haven’t been before is difficult, and to travel across oceans and continents... I’ve not heard of that being done. If it’s feasible, it’s beyond the skills of my kith and kin.”
“If someone can figure out how to ship packages from continent to continent overnight, there’s an entrepreneur waiting to make that person rich,” Amaranthe said.
“Indeed,” Starcrest said. “In the meantime, let’s see if you can find a local Maker. Some fool has given me access to Turgonia’s tax funds, so I expect I can pay the person well for his or her time.”
“Don’t you have to get withdrawals approved by your treasurer?” Tikaya asked. “That nervous little woman with the tic?”
“Yes, but Dak intimidates her. I can simply send him to get the check.”
“Intimidates her? I thought he was making moon eyes at her.”
“Yes, but she didn’t realize that.”
Amaranthe pushed back her chair. “If there’s nothing further, we’ll head out, My Lord.”
Tikaya stood as well. “I’ll go with you.”
“Er, we were going to check on a business in town first. The owner might be linked to the original attack on the sub.”
“Tikaya, you needn’t join them until they find a practitioner,” Starcrest said. “I know Mahliki—”
“Has everything I can give her for now,” Tikaya said. “I don’t mind tagging along with them. I may be of assistance in locating a Maker.”
Amaranthe had a feeling Tikaya wanted to go with them for more reasons than had been stated, but it would give her an opportunity to ask her personal questions, so she did not object. She glanced at Sicarius, wondering if he would mind company, but he was doing his impassive-as-a-statue routine, as he had for much of the meeting. He was probably thinking about the assassin hunt he planned for the night, rather than worrying about running errands in the city.
“You’re gazing at me in speculation,” Tikaya said to her husband.
Starcrest’s thumb was hooked under his chin, fingers to his lips, as he did indeed gaze at his wife like a man contemplating a puzzle. If Amaranthe knew Tikaya had some ulterior motive here, he had probably sensed it too.
“Are those his bedroom eyes?” Amaranthe asked; maybe she ought to help Tikaya by distracting him.
“Not exactly,” Tikaya said.
“I am contemplating whether you’re stir-crazy and eager to escape the confines of the hotel or if you have something else in mind, something I should be disgruntled over because you’re not telling me about it.”
“Dak and I are working on a little intelligence mission,” Tikaya said.
“He asked you to go out into the city?”
“No, I’m taking initiative.” Tikaya smiled.
“In that case, I had better sends guards with you.”
Tikaya’s smile turned sour. “To babysit me?”
“To protect you. As you’ll recall, someone tried to blow up my office last night. I don’t know who among my family might be targeted. Today has already been... worrisome, due to an overly aggressive plant that can’t keep its vines to itself.”
Amaranthe grimaced. The president and an entourage of men had been waiting when the tug and warship had come in at the old Fort Urgot docks. He must have been watching some of the trouble—that involving his daughter, for instance—from the roof of the hotel. With a spyglass, one ought to have a good view of the harbor. He had listened in stony-faced silence as the warship’s captain had relayed the events to him.
“If your... friend Sicarius comes along, won’t that obviate the need for a detachment of guards?” Tikaya smiled again.
“Now I know you’re up to something,” Starcrest said. “I could believe you wanted to spend time with Ms. Lokdon here, as she seems bright and resourceful, but you’ve shown no interest in getting to know our ex-assassin comrade here, am I right, Sicarius?”
Sicarius never gave Starcrest anything but respectful looks, maybe even looks of adulation—for those who knew how to read him well—but this time, he offered one of his why-are-you-involving-me-in-this eyebrow twitches. His, “Yes, My Lord,” was a tad flat.
Starcrest must have read i
t, too, for he lifted an apologetic hand.
“She simply hasn’t learned about his cuddly side yet,” Amaranthe said.
“I’ll wager not many have.”
“I have only your safety in mind, Rias,” Tikaya said. “I’ve done precious little since I’ve been here, except read and send letters home. Now that there’s something that I can help with, I won’t stand back and ignore it.”
“I appreciate your help, but can’t it be done with a contingent of armed and armored guards surrounding you?”
“No. In fact, such a contingent might scare off any practitioners, especially if they have been illegal refugees and hunted people here.”
Starcrest sighed. “Sicarius, can I trust you to keep Tikaya safe tonight, as well as Amaranthe?”
If Sicarius felt irked to be saddled with this extra burden, he did not show it. “I will bring them back to the hotel before going on my own hunt.”
“Very well.” Starcrest came around the table and hugged his wife, murmuring something in her ear.
Amaranthe met Sicarius’s eyes and nodded to the door. They ought to give these two a private moment. Something about that hug seemed to say they hadn’t gotten many private moments lately.
• • • • •
The crisp evening air felt good against Tikaya’s cheeks, even if it smelled of burning coal. Being out of the hotel without a guard felt good as well. She missed the days of simply being able to wander along a beach in her sandals, with nothing except the sound of the surf to keep her company. The capital claimed a million citizens, and she believed it. As she walked down a wide boulevard with Amaranthe, they had to weave around crowds lingering before eating houses, rushes of people disembarking from trolleys, and a pack of people in dark green robes with hoods pulled over their heads. She hadn’t seen Sicarius since they left the hotel, though Amaranthe assured her that he wasn’t far.
“Amaranthe, I have a question for you,” Tikaya said at the same time as Amaranthe turned toward her with a finger up and started to speak.
“Oh,” she said. “You go first.”
“No, you can go first. I...” Tikaya had been summoning the courage to confide in Amaranthe as to where she wanted to go. Getting out without a guard contingent had been a blessing, but she still had to explain the departure she wanted to make to these two.
“Mine’s silly,” Amaranthe admitted, scuffing a crack in the sidewalk with her boot. “Well, not silly, but not related to our mission or anything... that matters. At least not right now.”
This of course made Tikaya curious, but she wouldn’t push the woman to share. How interesting that Amaranthe, too, had been searching for the courage to say something.
Tikaya withdrew a folded paper from her wool dress. “Do you know how we can most easily get to this address? I looked at a map, but I confess I haven’t ridden on the trolleys yet, and the system doesn’t at first glance seem... scientific. Or logical. Or entirely safe, if the muggings mentioned in the paper are to be believed.”
“Right on all counts.” Amaranthe opened the paper and headed for a street lamp. “It grew up over time, with more routes being added as needed. As you wander around, you’ll see that we have some new boulevards like this one, suitable for steam vehicles and pedestrians, and then you’ll see that there are a lot of older streets that are narrow, crooked, and were basically designed for a couple of people to walk through at a time. The trolleys are too big to run through these old streets, so they take some creative routes to get from point one to point two. There’s a somewhat infamous one that detours four miles to take riders from one end of a bridge to the other, since the bridge is for pedestrians only, and the canal system offers further barriers.” Amaranthe passed the sheet of paper back. “This is up on Mokath Ridge. It’s a neighborhood full of expensive homes. New wealth and old.”
“That’s not surprising then. Do we... have time to detour up there?”
“Well, Ms. Sarevic’s Custom Works is in a sketchier neighborhood, but her shop hours—the ones we’re interested in—don’t start until a couple of hours before midnight, so we can go to your destination first. Assuming you want us to come? Or were you hoping to explore on your own? Though, even if you were, I doubt Sicarius would let you wander off unaccompanied after he told the president he would watch you.”
“If he watches from a distance, I don’t mind.” Tikaya decided she wouldn’t mind Amaranthe’s company, either. She had been an enforcer at one point; she might know a few tricks for talking a haughty warrior-caste woman into opening her doors and allowing a search of her home. “And, ah, if you don’t mind coming along, it could be helpful.”
“You mentioned intelligence. Are we doing something interesting?” Amaranthe sounded like she hoped so.
“Visiting someone who sent a tainted gift for the president’s inauguration.”
Amaranthe’s nose crinkled. “A tainted gift? Something more inimical than stale tarts?”
“I should say so.” Tikaya noticed someone watching them from a vendor’s booth and pulled Amaranthe into an alcove. With the nights still bringing frost, she didn’t feel out of place wearing a cloak with a hood, but she imagined her blonde hair still made her noticeable. In addition, there were her spectacles and her height, though here, in vertically endowed Turgonia, the height alone wouldn’t have been a giveaway. “It’s an old artifact that a practitioner tinkered with. We believe it’s keyed to Rias and has been giving him headaches and perhaps interfering with his mental faculties. I’ve locked it in a metal box down in Mahliki’s new laboratory, and I thought I noticed the new furrows between Rias’s brow were less deep today.”
“A practitioner? A Maker?” Amaranthe asked. “Does that mean if we find the person, Sicarius and I might have the answer to our power supply problem?”
Tikaya stared at the younger woman. This didn’t sound like a particularly bright assumption, and she felt a touch miffed that Amaranthe had ignored the rest of the revelation.
“A Maker who wishes Rias ill,” Tikaya explained slowly. “Perhaps all of us.”
Now Amaranthe stared at Tikaya as if she were slow. “I convince people who wish me ill to aid in my cause all the time.”
“With... your assassin’s help?” Dear Akahe, had Tikaya made a mistake in coming out with these two?
“Well, he looms and glares, and that can help sway people, but I prefer less violent methods.” Amaranthe smiled. “I like a challenge.”
“Hm.” If Amaranthe truly was good at swaying people, maybe Tikaya could send her in to chat with Starcrest’s first wife. She didn’t find the idea of the task appealing herself. “It is possible we may find out who Made the device by visiting this address. If—”
A shadow appeared in the alcove with them, startling Tikaya. It had seemed to come up from out of the ground or to have dropped down from some roof.
“It is unwise to remain in the open,” Sicarius said without preamble. “Three separate persons are following you. More may have observed your departure from the hotel.”
“Following me?” Tikaya asked.
“I’m not the president’s wife,” Amaranthe said.
“No, but I shouldn’t think that makes me terribly fascinating.”
“They may simply be following because they believe information on your whereabouts may be important to someone somewhere.” Amaranthe met Sicarius’s eyes—his sudden appearance at her elbow hadn’t startled her at all. “Were they youths? Or more pernicious stalkers?”
“Adults. Armed. One in a green robe, one wearing civilian clothing but who moves like a soldier, and one I haven’t gotten a good look at yet.” Sicarius watched the street as the conversation continued, his gaze occasionally flitting toward the rooftops and the sewer grates.
The soldier wasn’t that surprising. Someone had probably been instructed to keep an eye on her and make sure she remained safe. The robed person... “I just saw some of those people in robes. They represent a new religion that’s forming, d
on’t they? Why would they care about me?”
Amaranthe looked at Sicarius, but he only shook his head once. “I’ve seen a couple of those robes since we arrived,” she said, “but we don’t know anything about them yet. It’s not an organization that was around—at least obviously so—before we left the city. I’d be more concerned about someone following us who’s talented enough that Sicarius wasn’t able to get a good look.”
“The person is discreet,” Sicarius said.
“Is it possible to elude these followers?” Tikaya asked.
“Likely.”
“We’re heading to Mokath Ridge,” Amaranthe told Sicarius. “Professor? Care to follow me? I know routes that probably won’t be observed.”
“Lead on, Amaranthe.”
Perhaps Tikaya should have inquired about those “routes that probably won’t be observed” before agreeing to follow the woman. Amaranthe led her through urine-drenched alleys, boarded-up buildings, old underground streets, and finally a sewage pumping station that made the alleys seem like honeymoon destinations.
“I’m not sure how I’m going to explain my new stench to Rias,” Tikaya murmured as they came up through a manhole in a park.
“I suggest spending some time in the hotel’s baths before heading up to the bedroom,” Amaranthe said, veering for a street.
Tikaya had lost all sense of direction. They might be in the next satrapy for all she knew. Though probably not. She could still smell that alien vegetation, the scent wafting up from the lake and mingling with the pervasive coal odor.
Amaranthe paused in the shadows of a hedge to wait for a pair of private steam carriages to roll past. Their presence, along with the lack of trash or graffiti along the streets, made Tikaya assume they had reached the upscale neighborhood they sought.