The Emperor's Edge (The Emperor's Edge, #1)

by Lindsay Buroker

The footsteps altered pitch as the creature moved from solid floor to the grate. Tiny flecks of sawdust sifted through. With the darkness above, Amaranthe could not see anything through the tiny gaps in the metal. She could only hear the creature. Sniffing. Sicarius faced the entrance, his back to her and the lantern. Neither of them spoke, though there was little point in silence. It knew where they were. The scrape of claws on metal replaced the sniffing. Slow and experimental at first, the noise then grew faster, like a dog digging under a fence.

When claws slipped between the gaps in the grate, she sucked in a breath. It was the span between them that unsettled her. No animal she had ever seen had paws that large.

Above, the clawing stopped. Nothing moved. A soft splatter to Amaranthe’s right made her jump. At first she thought it had come from the ice above, a drop melting. But it steamed when it hit a block. Another drop struck the back of her hand. As hot as candle wax, it stung like salt in a cut. Not melted ice, she realized. Saliva. Slowly, she looked up. More drops filtered down. Puffs of steam whispered through the grate—the creature’s breath, visible in the chill air. Two yellow dots burned on the other side of that fog. Eyes reflecting the flame of her lantern.

Amaranthe sank into a crouch and buried her face in her knees. She closed her eyes, willing the thing to go away. A drop of hot saliva hit the back of her neck. Time seeped by like molasses. The footsteps finally started up again. They padded away and moved beyond the range of her ears. For several long moments, she and Sicarius hunkered there, between the wall and the ice. The cold bit through Amaranthe’s night clothes. Her teeth chattered and she shivered. She held her hands close to the lantern, but it gave off little heat. “Is it gone?” she asked. “Impossible to tell,” he said. “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. He opened the grate, peered out, then disappeared over the edge. “There’s something wrong with a man who chooses to face death over cuddling with a woman.”

Amaranthe grabbed the lantern and followed him out. “Of course, there may be something equally wrong with a woman who goes afte...

“Maybe we should go out and check on that man. See if…” He’s dead Amaranthe. You were too late to help. “I wouldn’t,” Sicarius said. He was as cool and emotionless as ever, but his unwillingness to leave the building concerned her. If, with all his skill, he did not want to confront whatever stalked the streets, who else could?

hanging from his left hip. An obnoxious amount of gold gilded the hilt and scabbard. Akstyr’s gaze lingered on the valuable weapon. When Maldynado came even with Books and Akstyr, his upper lip wrinkled. “Which one of you boys fell in a vat of cheap wine on the way over here?” Akstyr sneered. Books glared. Unperturbed, Maldynado surveyed them further, then pulled out a case and extricated two cards. “Your barber?” Amaranthe asked. “Tailor. I’ve never seen two people in such need of sartorial attention.”

know there’s a half-eaten body in the street out there?” “Yes.” Since she did not want to alarm her troops this early into the mission, lest they decide to leave, she decided on nonchalance. “It’s not the best neighborhood.”

“On that we can agree,” Books said. Maldynado waved a hand in front of his face. “Is your breath always that rank?” “If I offend you, you have my permission to move to the other side of the room.” Books lowered his voice. “Or the empire.” “Since you’re the offensive one, maybe you should do the moving so the rest of us can breathe. There’s a dumpster down the block where you might feel at home.” Maldynado turned to Akstyr. “Do you believe this fellow?” “Who cares?” That surly curl to Akstyr’s lip seemed permanent.

Amaranthe blushed. She had looked. “Praise her good taste,” Books muttered, stepping into the street to avoid a lamppost—or perhaps Maldynado’s glare. “Old man,” Maldynado said, “you are crippling my serenity. If you keep

insulting me, I might have to come over there and—” “Gentlemen,” Amaranthe said. “I believe we’re almost there.” She decided to forgo her ambitions of creating a cohesive unit. An occasionally functional one with tendencies toward violence seemed more within reach.

We need to get the press set up, and we need to get money plates made. I don’t suppose you know an engraver and can get that done?” “Easy,” Sicarius said. “Really?” She had expected this to be a sticking point. Maybe she ought to just let him go and do it, but… “Easy because you know a criminal engraver who owes you a favor, or easy because you’ll pick someone with the skill set, force him to do it, and kill him afterwards?” “The latter.” “Oh.” “Asking someone to help you commit a crime and then leaving him alive to point you out to the enforcers is foolish.”

already who are going to be privy to our plans. Perhaps adding another wouldn’t ma…” A chilling thought whispered into her mind. She glanced at Books, sitting on a bunk, and Akstyr, poking around in discarded debris. “Please tell me your logic doesn’t require killing everyone we work with over the next couple weeks.” “You can’t trust random people acquired from the street. Don’t get attached.” “Sicarius.” She gripped his arm, distantly aware that she had never dared touch him before. “I did not talk these folks into helping just to have you kill them at the end.” “Once our need for them is done, they’re disposable.”

“I don’t want to go on some stupid errand,” Akstyr said. Amaranthe rummaged through her mind for something she could offer to make the task appealing to him. Of the three men she had recruited, Akstyr was the most likely to be a problem. She doubted Maldynado or Books would turn her into the enforcers, but if Akstyr saw a better opportunity than the one she offered… Sicarius had the knack of moving without anyone noticing him move, so when he appeared at Akstyr’s side, the younger man jumped several

inches. Sicarius rested his hand at the base of Akstyr’s neck. Though the touch was light, the meaning was unmistakable. Akstyr stood utterly still, not even breathing. In the silence that descended, Amaranthe heard the breeze bumping the buoys hanging on the outside walls. “Follow her orders,” Sicarius said softly. Akstyr closed his eyes and gulped. “Y-yes, sir.”

Books opened his mouth, hesitated, glanced at Sicarius, and then raised a finger as if he were a student asking a question in class. “Yes?” Amaranthe asked. “I’m not complaining about this task—” he shot another glance at Sicarius, “—but how do you propose I find a printing press? I assume you’re not providing funds for its purchase. And supposing I do acquire one, how should I get it back here?” “I can allocate up to five hundred ranmyas if you find something.” “That won’t buy the handle.” “We don’t need a steam-powered press. Just find something old and rusty we can fix up.” “I don’t think—” “I came looking for you specifically,” Amaranthe said, rushing to speak before Sicarius could make any more sinister innuendoes, “a highly educated and

experienced professor, because I knew you would be able to come up with solutions that I, a lowly ex-enforcer, could not. I know you can do this, Books.” The narrowed eyes and head tilt Books gave her said he saw through her manipulation, but his expression suddenly grew thoughtful, and he tugged his beard. “Hm.” “What?” she asked. “I have an idea.”

The boy lurched to a stop, hunkered over a trash can, and rummaged through it. Great, who set this child to following me? Enforcers used youngsters as informants, since adults tended to ignore them, but she could not assume he was one of theirs. Other people employed youths for similar reasons. Businesses used them to spy on other businesses. Gangs gathered intelligence on rival gangs. Even lovers sent children to watch partners suspected of cheating. Given

Sicarius returned late that night. He walked directly to Amaranthe and handed her a folded poster. She opened it and found herself staring at her own likeness. She had expected

it. The details, however, surprised her. Amaranthe Lokdon wanted for attempted sedition and illegal magic use. Do not attempt to apprehend. Kill on sight. By order of Commander of the Armies Hollowcrest. “Magic use?” she asked. “I didn’t even know the stuff existed until last week.” “It doesn’t matter,” Sicarius said. “Hollowcrest has learned of your survival and fears what you know. You must move around the city with caution.” “Kill on sight,” she said. “You get used to it.” Amaranthe searched his face for humor. There was none.

“Jaeleka?” Sicarius murmured, when they passed into the halls. His soft boots made not a whisper on the

“You don’t approve?” she asked. “It wouldn’t be my first choice.” “Perhaps you could make a list of acceptable baby names for next time.”

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? “Anyone you know?” Chin on her knees, she pointed her nose toward the body. “An assassin. I’ve met him before.” “Then I appreciate your willingness to stab an acquaintance in the back on my behalf.” Talking felt inane, but she did not want to dwell on what had almost been. “Any assassin who allows himself to be distracted by his work deserves a knife in

the back. It’s not professional.” Amaranthe almost laughed,

But the home address wasn’t enough for some reason. Why wouldn’t an assassin be able to get in and kill her at home?” “Wards?” “What?” “Barriers or alarms made using the mental sciences,” Sicarius said. “A Turgonian businesswoman who knows magic?” she asked skeptically. Sicarius held up the thick rolls of paper. “These are the plat maps for the industrial and business sections. If you have the name of her business—” “Businesses. She owns more than a dozen in her name, and there are

numerous partnerships as well.” “Let’s find all her properties then,” Sicarius said. Amaranthe nodded. “I bet that’s what Hollowcrest’s assassin was looking for. If you can’t kill them at home, kill ‘em at work.” “A valid strategy.”

“Ready for a mission?” Amaranthe asked him. “You too, Akstyr.” “Huh?” Akstyr glanced at Sicarius. “With him?”

“You wanted someone who could watch your back while you worked your science, didn’t you?” She smiled, willing Akstyr to forget that Sicarius had threatened to break his neck a couple days earlier. “There isn’t anyone better.”

“That’s allowed,” she said. He did not extrapolate. The screech sounded again. “That’s it,” Amaranthe said. “Up to the beams.” She ran to the bunks and shook Maldynado and Books. Maldynado groaned and stuffed his head under his arm. “What time is it?” Books sat up, his beard sticking out in all directions. “Early,” Amaranthe said. “We need to make a short trip.” A scuffle sounded from above as a climbing Akstyr reached the top and threw himself over the beam. Books mumbled under his breath but grabbed his boots and headed for the swaying rope, apparently accepting the need to do so without a big explanation. “Up there?” Maldynado, less accepting, stared. “Is there a reason you’re encouraging pre-dawn

climbing calisthenics?” “What’s that!” shouted a muffled male voice from the warehouse on the nearby dock. A musket fired, and for a moment all grew still. Then a scream of pain sent a chill hurtling down Amaranthe’s spine. The sound broke off with a crunch. “There’s a reason,” she answered Maldynado grimly. “Uh huh, got that.” He scrambled out of his bunk, shoved Books aside, and flew up one of the ropes.

crouched on the beam closest to the door, ten feet away. “What are we hiding from?” Books whispered. “Nobody ever explained the ropes.” “Remember that dead man you saw outside of the icehouse?” Amaranthe asked. “Yes.” “We’re hiding from the thing that killed him.” “The bear the papers mentioned?” Books asked. “The one that’s been mauling people?” “The papers mentioned it,” she said, “but it’s not a bear.” “It sounds like the veteran next door shot it,” Maldynado said. “Or shot at it.” “If it’s wizard-made, no sword or pistol ball is going to stop it,” Akstyr said. “Wait,” Amaranthe said. “Akstyr, do you know what it is?” He shrugged. “Haven’t seen it.”

“If you saw it, could you identify it?” “If I say yes, are you going to push me off the beam and make me go look?” “I won’t,” she said. “I might.” Maldynado, who perched nearest Akstyr, patted him on the shoulder.

Akstyr slid out of reach. “I’ve read about creatures wizards can create. If I saw it, or you described it to me, then maybe I could say what it is.” “Great,” Maldynado said. “Let’s invite it in for breakfast. Who wants to volunteer to be ...

“There are no free me...

“I believe it’s gone,” Sicarius said. “I believe I’ll wait a little longer to hop down and find out,” Maldynado said. “Whose idea was it to set up shop in the middle of this critter’s hunting grounds, anyway?”

Amaranthe looked at Sicarius, who remained motionless, ear cocked in the direction of the last outside noise. “An unfortunate coincidence,” she said. “Are you sure it’s a coincidence?” Books asked. She adjusted her weight on the narrow perch. A sliver of wood broke away and spiraled to the floor. “If it was looking for us specifically, I think it’d take a more direct route.” “Perhaps,” Books said, “but isn’t

this the second time it’s killed someone within meters of your location?” Yes, and she could not dismiss the possibility that h...

“Tonight’s event is pit fighting. It sounded like a weekly venture with high-stakes gambling over outcomes.” “Dog or cock fights?” “People,” Sicarius said. “Slaves chosen to fight to the death.” Books shifted on the beam. “That’s outrageous!” “And against the law,” Amaranthe said. Slavery hadn’t been allowed since the Revolt of 654 had threatened the imperium from within. And human pit fighting had been illegal in the capital even longer.

happened.” “We’ve reached a point where businesses may command more funds than the government or even the old warrior caste families,” Books said. “In such a war, an entity like Forge may very well come out on top.”

“Since sneaking in won’t work, the logical route is to get an invitation. Maldynado, this is your circle. Do you know anyone who could get us in?” Maldynado stretched and cracked his spine. “I know a man who could probably get you invitations to any event in the city. His family has been

powerful since the first days of the empire, and they know everyone who’s important.” “Can you talk to him today?” “I can take you to talk to him. He won’t give me anything.” Amaranthe had planned to help Books research. If she was visiting Larocka’s home that night, there was more urgency than ever to learn everything possible about the Forge leader. “Are you positive you can’t do it alone? You could be underestimating your charm.” “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 a...

“Maldynado,” Avery said. “Surprised to receive your message. Last I heard you were whoring yourself out to old hags.” Amaranthe gaped. Those were not

exactly the dulcet word choices one expected from a gentleman. “Ave, always a pleasure to hear your genteel tones,” Maldynado said. “Though I’m sure you only agreed to meet so you could get the latest gossip on my life and update all your lowly cronies.” “Lowly? You dare call anyone lowly when you’re the one who avoided military service because you were afraid some enemy might come along and break your pretty nose?” “As opposed to the nine months you served in that tropical resort on the gulf—that is until your medical discharge. Ankles still swollen?” “A congenital weakness, alas.” The two men flashed edged smiles at each other, reminding Amaranthe of circling wolves, albeit extremely well-dressed wolves. It was a bad start to the meeting. She needed to jump in. “Introduce

“A businesswoman, how pedestrian.” She forced a smile. “It’s good to meet you, Lord Exaltuscrest.” “I know. For business peons like you, it usually is.”

And I thought Maldynado had an ego. As if he heard her thoughts, a snicker escaped under Maldynado’s breath. “Do you have an aversion to businesses?” Amaranthe asked. “No,” Avery said. “Just the greedy money-mongers who run them. It’s disgusting the way people fawn over their coin nowadays, as if that meant more than blood.”

“Maldynado tells me your family goes back hundreds of years.” “We were on the boats that came over from Nuria. We built this empire. That’s why it’s irritating to see mixed-blood peasants, most of them descendants of people we conquered, stumbling their way into positions of power.”

“So,” she said, meeting Avery’s eyes, “your family must have fought at some of the greatest battles in history. Frontier Hill, the Aquifer Wars, the Southern Railroad Scandals?” “Yes, of course. There was a General Exaltuscrest at Frontier Hill who went on to become the first Commander of the Armies.” “Truly? I confess, I know little of the origins of that title.” Avery leaned forward. “It’s quite fascinating actually. The emperor used to personally lead troops into every battle, but as the empire increased in size, we often faced enemies on multiple fronts. The position of Commander of the Armies was created so someone with imperial authority could lead the troops when the emperor was elsewhere. Turgonia was glorious back then. We were a nation run by

true warriors, not administrators. Lord General Exaltuscrest, now he was a warrior. He…” Amaranthe was not sure she found the information as fascinating as Avery did, but at least he had an interest in the topic. She nodded and offered encouraging comments between bites of her pastry. Apple, cinnamon, and frosting danced on her taste buds. It was the best thing she had eaten in days, maybe weeks. Maldynado devoured two more. Avery’s lecture transitioned from military heroes to stories highlighting the dangers of the early frontier days. Any time he slowed, Amaranthe prompted him with questions. The man had at least one relative in every major event in imperial history.

she checked to make sure she still had not dislodged the small pad of paper tucked inside her parka. If she had the chance to take illuminating notes tonight, she would not be unprepared. Her knuckles brushed against her grandfather’s knife—also tucked inside her parka. Note-taking could be dangerous.