The Emperor's Edge

The Emperor's Edge Ch. 18 Pt. 2

Amaranthe’s group arrived at the Oak Iron Smelter a half hour before midnight. The huge plant lay dormant, its massive smokestack black against a starry sky. Carts on railroad tracks walled in one side of a huge scrapyard that stretched for a block around the central building. Mountains of raw ore, scrap metal, and coal created snow-covered hills, and she led Books, Akstyr, and Maldynado into the valleys. All four of them carried swords, and Akstyr and Books toted the repeating crossbows taken from the enforcers. Sicarius had disappeared with the remaining crossbow before they arrived.

Amaranthe had left the majority of the counterfeit bills behind, stored amongst the rafters in the ice house. She carried a knapsack with a sample of their work, enough—she hoped—to give her adversaries cause for alarm.

As they walked, her kerosene lamp created a yellow sphere that wobbled along the ground litter. Silvery splashes of hardened metal glinted on a discarded mold. She stepped over food wrappers, scattered ore, and spilled slag. What snow melted during the day had frozen into ridges of icy slush that made the footing capricious. A cold breeze scraped at her cheeks, and her breath fogged the air.

“Maldynado, you’ll come with me to the meeting, where I need you to look big and imposing,” Amaranthe said.

“And dangerous?” Maldynado asked. “Like someone deserving a huge bounty on his head?”

“Precisely so. Books and Akstyr, I want you on top of the mountains of junk where you can see us and shoot at troublemakers if you need to. I’m hoping this won’t devolve into a fight, but if it does, be ready.”

“What’s Sicarius doing?” Akstyr asked.

“Being independent,” she said.

“How new for him.” Books lifted a finger. “May I speak with you for a moment, Amaranthe?”

They stepped away from the others and into the shadow of a warped flywheel.

She gave him a frank look. “If you’re going to tell me that I’d be better off with Sicarius by my side, I already tried to talk him into that. He has his own reasons for being here, but that’s fine. I know what I’m doing.” I think.

Books held out a fist full of crossbow quarrels. “I merely need to know how to load this contraption.”

“Oh.”

She plunked the quarrels into the magazine and showed him how use the lever to chamber new bolts. Books thanked her and jogged between two rubble heaps. Before disappearing from sight, he slipped on a frozen puddle and rammed his shoulder against a junk pile. Shards of metal rained down around him. He staggered to his feet, acknowledged his survival with a wave, and continued into the maze.

It’ll be a miracle if I walk out of here tonight without being shot by my own team.

Akstyr, too, disappeared into the scrapyard. Amaranthe and Maldynado resumed walking.

“If this doesn’t work out tonight...” he started.

“I’ve enjoyed working with you, too, Maldynado. You’ve been a tremendous help, and it’s been an honor knowing you.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Isn’t that the sort of thing you were going to say?” she asked.

“I just wanted to ask...” Maldynado cleared his throat. “If I get porcupined full of arrows tonight, could you tell my mother I died a hero?”

“Of course. And if this does work out, you never know, you could be a hero.”

“Like with a statue?”