She peered through the gate and counted five soldiers sprawled on the floor amongst overturned boxes and tipped lanterns. A couple had taken steps toward the exit, but most had collapsed where they stood. The vial, now cracked, gleamed where it had come to rest against the wall. The powder had disappeared, turned to smoke and vanished.
Amaranthe decided not to risk getting close enough to investigate further. She checked the keys she had taken from the soldier. A fob read Polga’s Pyramid Tours.
“Let’s hope Polga has the power to lock and unlock the gates,” she said.
“Talking to yourself again?” Maldynado asked as he and Books strode around the corner.
“No.” Amaranthe tried one of the keys in the lock. “I knew you’d be here to hear me.”
“The other soldier is sufficiently trussed up,” Books said.
“Albeit, he’ll find it a bit drafty in here without his pants,” Maldynado said.
“They’re the only thing that could be used to tie his ankles together and bind them to his wrists,” Books said.
“I’m not judging you,” Maldynado said. “That, given the opportunity, your first thought was to strip a handsome, young soldier of his pants doesn’t bother me.”
“You’re odious.”
“They were setting up an ambush,” Amaranthe said. “Perhaps we should stop talking until we’ve subdued the bait.”
The fourth key she tried turned in the lock. Good. She closed the gate and secured the soldiers inside.
“Do we believe the bait is Mancrest?” Books whispered.
“We’ll see.”
She debated whether to continue forward with the lantern dimmed, but decided the bait would expect her, so she might as well come in as anticipated. There just wouldn’t be a squad of soldiers ready to charge in and capture her.
She pulled her kerchief down around her neck, and she, Maldynado, and Books followed the corridor to a ramp that angled downward, then turned at the bottom. More hieroglyphs adorned the walls down here, though she did not spot any more dogs engaged in carnal activities.
The corridor widened and angled to the right. Light came from ahead. More gates marked the walls, and cells—shops—lay behind them. A mix of tacky “adventuring hats,” pyramid-related paraphernalia, and history books adorned the shelves.
The light ahead of them was coming from one of the shops. Amaranthe cut off her lantern and approached on silent feet.
She stopped at the gate. She did not see anyone inside, though a candle burned on a merchant’s counter, the flame sputtering on the wick, and a hint of beeswax tinged the musty air. Racks of cheap factory-made clothing stretched along the walls.
A low groan emanated from the back of the shop. Ah, there was their bait.
A man lay on the floor, his back to them, wrists and ankles tied with a fat rope. Perhaps it had been chosen for its visibility—one could not miss it, even from the corridor. The wavy brown hair on the man’s head was a familiar hue and length.
Amaranthe lifted her eyebrows toward Maldynado. He nodded. Yes, it was Mancrest.
The gate stood open. Amaranthe slid her hand into her pocket, wrapping her fingers about the cool metal keys. Though she meant to abandon stealth in a moment, she did her best to withdraw the fob quietly.
“Evening, Lord Mancrest,” she said as she selected the key that had worked on the other gate. The number of shops—and locks—they had passed suggested one key opened multiple doors. “How’d you get yourself tied up there?”
The muffled response was unintelligible. He did manage to twist about so she could see a gag blocking his mouth.
“Disgusting,” Maldynado muttered. “What proud man of the warrior caste stoops so low as to act as bait in a stupid trap?”
“Ssh,” Amaranthe whispered, then raised her voice. “Are you in danger, Lord Mancrest? Who tied you up?”
Again, the gag muffled his response, but she caught the gist this time, “Help, come untie me.”
“I don’t think so.” Amaranthe shut the gate, slipped the key into the lock, and turned it with a resounding thunk.
Mancrest sat up, eyes wide. His “what’re you doing?” was easy to understand.
“Getting annoyed with your donkey manure, old boy,” Maldynado said.
“What?” Mancrest said, still playing the game.
Was it possible he had not arranged this, and he was actually imprisoned? No, soldiers would not tie up someone from the warrior caste without permission.
“We have comrades to rescue,” Amaranthe said. She found a rough corner on one of the stones on the opposite wall and hung the key ring on it. “I imagine you can find a couple of clothes hangers, twine them together, and fetch that on your own with a little patience, assuming your binds aren’t particularly tight and you can free your hands. I wouldn’t count on the soldiers rescuing you. They’re incapacitated at the moment.”
“Especially the one without pants,” Maldynado said.
“Will you stop bringing that up?” Books asked.
“Probably not,” Maldynado said.
“Let’s go, gentlemen,” Amaranthe said. “We have work to do.”
Mancrest’s shoulders heaved and his face screwed up as he wriggled his hands behind his back. His bonds fell free, and he yanked the gag out of his mouth.
“Wait!” He tore away the ropes at his ankles, leaped to his feet, and sprang to the gate.
Books jumped back. Amaranthe watched Mancrest’s hands to make sure he did not reach for a pistol or dagger beneath his shirt. Maldynado leaned against the opposite wall and yawned.
Mancrest grabbed the bars of the gate. He tried to open it, failed, and gaped at her. “You locked me in?”
“You were planning to ambush us,” Amaranthe said, not surprised but chagrinned to realize Sicarius had been right, that Mancrest could not be trusted to do anything except turn her over to the enforcers. “I think my response is quite generous.”
He curled his lip and opened his mouth, as if to argue, but closed it again and took a deep breath. “What about my men. Are they...unharmed?”
“I think so. We used what the kidnappers have been using to knock people out, and I locked them in.”
“Who’s going to let us out?” Mancrest asked.
“Surely someone else is privy to your plan and will come look for you eventually.”
“My brother. After he gets off work tomorrow.”
“Long time without a latrine nearby,” Maldynado said, still leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “But you deserve to marinate in your own pee overnight.”
Mancrest ignored him. Hands gripping the bars, he told Amaranthe, “It’s my duty and obligation to capture criminals if I have a chance.”
“Our duty sometimes lands us in unpleasant circumstances.” A fact she knew well, since following duty was what had set her on the path that resulted in her becoming an outlaw. She nodded toward the key ring. “I can make it easier for you to unlock yourself, if you tell me what you know about Sicarius’s capture and the kidnappers in general.”
Mancrest’s shoulders drooped, and he leaned his forehead against a bar. He chuckled ruefully. “When I imagined how tonight would end, it involved me questioning you about what you knew, not the other way around.”
“He should have come up with a more clever ploy then,” Books said out of the corner of his mouth to Maldynado.
“For once, we agree,” Maldynado said back.
“Was this interrogation you imagined happening here or at Enforcer Headquarters?” Amaranthe asked.
“Fort Urgot,” Mancrest said.
“I’ve been questioned there before. I don’t care to arrange another visit. Are you going to provide the information I requested, or not?”
“What will you do with the information?”
“Rescue my men and stop the kidnappers from whatever it is they’re doing,” Amaranthe said. “Given the nefarious nature of the disappearances, I doubt it’s wholesome.”
“Why are you bothering?” Mancrest asked. “I understand your comrades are missing, but you were involved in this before that, were you not?”
“I want exoneration, so I help the empire when I can. Now, speak.” She gave him her best icy-cold-Sicarius stare. Given the hours she had wasted coming to Pyramid Park, it was not difficult to muster.
Still leaning his forehead against the bars, Mancrest considered her. His eyes flicked downward, taking in her newly acquired rifle. “I suppose I should be grateful you haven’t killed me for my attempts at trapping you.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Amaranthe said.
“I might,” Maldynado said. “Since you keep using me to get at her. Street licker.”
“No,” Mancrest said, holding Amaranthe’s gaze. “I’m beginning to see that. I don’t know who has Sicarius, only that an anonymous message came into Enforcer Headquarters, informing them he’d been captured and would be delivered dead by the week’s end.”
Amaranthe’s breath caught. A steam tramper stomped all over her theory that these kidnappers were collecting superior athletes to turn them into soldiers. If they intended to kill Sicarius in a few days...
She closed her eyes. Then she had a few days to find him. That was what she needed to focus on.
“Also...” Mancrest slipped a hand into a pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “One of the rookies brought me this advertisement for approval. Someone mailed it in with scrip from a mining outfit.”
Amaranthe’s ears perked. Mining outfit?
“I disapproved it. The Gazette doesn’t accept ads for just any business, certainly not anything that sounds like a spiel from a pitchman’s oiled tongue, and we don’t take scrip for payment either. Later I realized it came in a couple of days before the first abduction. It could be unrelated, but...” He spread a hand, palm up. “Perhaps not.”
Curiosity piqued, Amaranthe took the paper from him. Before it had been folded, it had been crinkled, as if it had spent time in a wastebasket. Books peered over her shoulder at it.
Foreman got you down? Do you deserve more? A home on the Ridge? A say in the government? It’s all possible. Invest in your future now. Enquire at the Imperial Tea House.
“Interesting,” Books said. “Perhaps a recruiting letter that was intended to gather more miners?”
“Raydevk didn’t seem too bright,” Amaranthe said. “I could see him trying to recruit people for criminal activities in a newspaper.”
Mancrest’s grip tightened on the gate bars. “Raydevk? That’s the name I got when I checked at the tea house. Is this tied in with the missing people?”
“It’s possible.” Amaranthe handed the note to Books to study further. For all she knew, he could do some handwriting analysis to identify likely culprits. “We had a run-in with some miners. What else did you learn at the tea house?”
“Little,” Mancrest said. “Despite the lofty name, it’s run by the same people that own half of the mines in the mountains, and it’s something of a slum establishment for lowly workers who can only pay in company scrip.”
“I know it,” Amaranthe said, her tone cool. “My father used to go there when he was in town.”
“Oh.”
“Smooth tongue there, Mancrest,” Maldynado said.
“Yes, uhm, they picked me out as warrior-caste right away,” Mancrest said, “and nobody answered my questions. I was trying to find out where the fellow lived and what he was selling.”
“Perhaps we’ll check it out later,” Amaranthe said. “We have another mission tonight.”
“If you find out anything,” Mancrest said, “and you need any help...”
“Oh, sure,” Maldynado said. “You’ve only tried to lure us into traps twice. Let’s arrange another meeting. Maybe the third time, you’ll figure out how to get us.”
“I understand why you might not be quick to trust me,” Mancrest said.
Amaranthe snorted.
“But—” he lifted a finger, “—if you seek exoneration, then you’ll want me there to witness your magnificent capture of the perpetrators. As a man from the warrior-caste, I would also be obligated to report the truth as I saw it.”
She watched his face, trying to decide if he was eager for a story or if he simply wanted another chance to ensnare her. If he had gone to this tea house, then it might indicate the former. But Maldynado was right. She’d be an idiot to give him another chance to betray her.
“I’ll think about it,” Amaranthe said. “Gentlemen.” She nodded to Maldynado and Books. It was time to go.
They started down the corridor, but Mancrest cleared his throat.
Ah, the keys. Right.
Amaranthe removed them from the protruding stone on the wall and dropped them on the floor in front of the shop.
“Didn’t you say you’d let me out if I shared what I knew?” Mancrest eyed the keys. They were closer but still too far for him to reach.
“I said I’d make it easier for you to unlock yourself,” Amaranthe said. “Now you’ll only need one clothes hanger instead of two. Good night.”
She, Maldynado, and Books headed out. Midnight had to be growing near, and they had much work to do.