The Emperor's Edge 3: Chapter 17 Part 2

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After retrieving their swords, Amaranthe and Maldynado wound through the corridors, following Sicarius. She focused on carrying her helmet, not tripping over her oversized boots, and watching for guards; she most definitely did not focus on Sicarius’s bare rear end as he jogged ahead of them.

“If Deret’s on board the Saberfist,” Maldynado said, “he might be able to keep the marines from shooting us when we pop up.”

“Why would Mancrest be there?” Sicarius asked, his tone as friendly as the edge of that black knife of his.

“His brother is the captain of the marine salvage and rescue vessel dropping explosives on us,” Amaranthe said. “I had to chat with Deret to make that happen.” Another charge blew nearby, and the corridor trembled. “Which has been a boon and a bane, I’ll admit.”

A second blast went off, this time right outside the wall. The floor heaved, pitching her sideways. A light on the wall bounced out of its holder and shattered on the deck. Sicarius caught Amaranthe before she smashed against the bulkhead—nothing so mundane as a shock wave would throw him off his feet—and she nodded a thank you. It was good to have him back even if the return look he gave her was on the cool and disapproving side. She hoped it was because of Deret and not due to her own clumsiness.

“Don’t worry about Mancrest,” she said. “You were right about that meeting at Pyramid Park being a bad idea, but we’ve come to an agreement since then.”

If anything Sicarius’s gaze grew cooler.

“He gave me his word,” Amaranthe said. “He’s not trying to turn me over to the military any more.”

“No.” Maldynado snickered. “He’s just trying to date you now.”

Sicarius threw a sharp look at him.

A snap sounded, and a hairline crack formed in a wall seam next to Amaranthe. A bead of water appeared at the bottom.

“We better go.” She grabbed Maldynado and Sicarius by the elbows, trying to hustle everyone down the corridor. “There’s a lot of pressure down here. I don’t want to be around if anything implodes.”

Sicarius strode forward, breaking free of her grip. He led them around two corners and past a massive bulkhead sealing off a corridor. Water pooled on the floor before it.

“Must be that wing they closed down,” Amaranthe said. Too bad nobody was left in the navigation room to drop more doors in case other sections flooded. “Is it possible these ballast tanks won’t be enough to lift us if too much of the interior has taken on water?”

“Very possible.” Sicarius stopped before a panel filled with levers and smaller versions of the wheels that opened the hatches. Though it looked like Turgonian technology, the words etched on plaques were nothing she could read.

Sicarius handed her the manual, turned a wheel, and twisted one of the levers in a half circle. A grinding noise came from behind the wall, followed by a muffled hissing. Air being forced into the tanks? Her thoughts tangled as she tried to grasp the science—or perhaps Science—behind the system.

“It’s working.” Sicarius tapped a gauge. “But there’s another tank along the other main corridor, and then two more used for leveling the ship. We may need to open the flood valves on those, too.”

Before he finished talking, he was jogging again. Amaranthe and Maldynado hustled to catch up.

“What happens if we’ve taken on too much water and this doesn’t get us off the bottom?” Maldynado asked. “Everyone without diving suits drowns down here?” He seemed to realize he was talking to someone without a suit, for he added, “And, er, just so you know, this wouldn’t fit you, Sicarius, so there’s no need to stab me in the back for it.”

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