“Trust me, I never underestimate my charm or any of my other magnificent attributes. They work great on women. Alas, men tend to see me as an unwelcome rival. You, he might listen to. You're good at talking people into things."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because I'm perched in the rafters of a cannery, at risk from a man-slaying magical creature, and spending time with a drunk, a gangster, and an assassin at . . . what time is it?”
“I didn’t faint, I passed out in a manly way,” Sespian muttered.”
“Well, I’m freezing. Either one of us is going to have to check or we’ll have to start cuddling.”
Sicarius climbed the ladder.
“There’s something wrong with a man who chooses to face death over cuddling with a woman.”
“Friendship is as selfish as any other relationship, perhaps more so because it masquerades as something noble. I am more comfortable with those who approach me with blades drawn.”
“Oh, they’ll be punished.” Amaranthe smiled and pointed at the heretofore silent Sicarius.
“Pa here, he’s the farm dis-ci-pli-nar-i-an. He was a soldier and he knows how to lay into a man an’ make him wish he’d never thunk of running off. Ain’t that right, Pa?” She smiled up at Sicarius.
“Yes,” he said flatly. “Ma.”
“Sitting in the shadows, with a killer, in an empty building, gazing at the corpse of another killer. When had her life grown so strange?”
“You said nothing to me of the newspaper clippings.”
“No, because you were displaying…snippiness yesterday.”
“Snippiness?” he asked.
“It’s a word.”
“I think not.”
“I’ll ask Books when we get back.”
“Who sent you?” Sicarius asked.
Amaranthe considered carefully before answering. If he simply meant to scare her into providing information, he could have started with a knife against her throat. No, he had almost broken her neck. He had intended to kill her but stopped mid-motion. Why? And would he continue where he had left off if she answered incorrectly?
“Commander of the Armies Hollowcrest.”
Given the previous demonstration of how he could see through lies, the truth seemed a safer choice. Besides, she found herself reluctant to die to protect Hollowcrest’s anonymity.
“Why?”
“To kill you.”
“That I gathered. Why did he send you? What did you do to anger him?”
“I… Uhm, what?”
“It was a suicide mission. You must have suspected.”
“An explanation.” Sicarius regarded her intently. “Clarify the situation with the emperor. I could not understand the incoherent jumble you spit out before falling unconscious.”
“His hair stuck up more than usual, but he was otherwise neat in his typical black. If they lived through the mission, she decided to buy him an obnoxiously cheerful shirt. Something in sunflower yellow, perhaps.”
“Is there a reason we’re taking the alley?” he asked. “The air is a tad ripe out here.”
“Unfriendly eyes out front.”
“Enforcers?”
“A ten-year-old boy.”
“Oh, yes. Terrifying.”
“He’s someone’s spy,” she said.”
“My husband,” Amaranthe said.
“Really! I would have guessed bodyguard.”
Yes, even without visible weapons, he had that aura.”
“You were married; don’t you know how this is supposed to go? The woman doesn’t want you to argue or try to solve the problem with logic. The woman wants you to commiserate with her. You don’t have to fix anything. Just stand there and nod and say ‘uh huh’ and ‘I understand.’ That’s all you’re supposed to do.”
“Technically speaking, Maldynado is the better fencer. Your man is the better killer.”
“The two men flashed edged smiles at each other, reminding Amaranthe of circling wolves, albeit extremely well-dressed wolves.”
“It’s not my fault,” Maldynado said. Amaranthe joined them. “I didn’t say it was.” “No, but women like to blame things on me, so I figured I’d announce my innocence preemptively.” “What type of things?” Books asked. “Their unwanted pregnancies?” “Of course not. To bear my offspring would be an honor. They know that.”
“Women like to make up rules to befuddle you...it's part of living in their world. Get used to it.”
“The Wharf Street part stood out for a different reason. She”
“She had no money, no weapons, no idea who comprised Forge, nothing. She needed an ally, but now that she was on the less desirable side of the law, she could hardly go to her enforcer friends for help. The only one she could ask was someone already marked as a criminal….”
“The mental sciences? A strange synonym for magic.”
“So, he had helped her because he wanted her information, not out of kindness. That”
“In his first week on the throne, he vowed to make peace with all the nations we’ve ever warred with, cut military spending in half, funnel the money to education, and…oh, yes, and phase out the empire itself, instating some ridiculous people’s republic with elected officials.”
“Do you suppose… Could he have thought I’d escape—or that you’d come get me and help me—and that this was a message meant for you?” She”
“When Amaranthe stepped outside after midnight, she caught Maldynado peeing his name in the snow. The bright, starry sky revealed a little too much and she cleared her throat as she approached. “So much for keeping our hideout inconspicuous,” she said.”
“You look concerned.” Books turned the wheel to screw down the press. “It’s my new normative state,” Amaranthe said.”
“You’re good at talking people into things.” “What makes you say that?” “Because I’m perched in the rafters of a cannery, at risk from a man-slaying magical creature, and spending time with a drunk, a gangster, and an assassin”
“Amaranthe felt as if she were balancing on the frozen lake. Might a hole open up beneath her and suck her in? It wasn’t surprising that Hollowcrest had access to all her background information, but it alarmed her that he had bothered to look into it. What had she done to warrant such scrutiny? Surely she was not here because she had lied about her age seven years ago.”
“Fate, she supposed, would never be so blasphemous as to pelt him with trash.”
“That was despicable. “Sir, I’m not—” Amaranthe started. “Such an accomplishment,” Hollowcrest interrupted, “would gain you great recognition…a promotion.” She sucked in a breath.”
“dragged over a lumpy chair, and placed it closer to him than her nose suggested wise.”
“I was okay. She was okay. We were okay. Nothing else matters.”
“What could he be thinking of? He seemed to be trying to remember something, perhaps an engagement, perhaps an excuse to leave her. For eventually, they all made some excuse.”
“No art can possibly comfort HER then, even though art is credited with so many things, especially an ability to offer solace. Sometimes, of course, art creates the suffering in the first place.”
“Truth is as free as the air and we all have the right to breathe as deeply of it as we wish. It cannot be held back in the palm of any one man.”
“And the point is, it’s something to aspire to, something to hope for. One day my life will match my Instagram posts. One day!”
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