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Amaranthe surreptitiously
wiped sweat from her brow and stomped down a goofy thought that
popped into her mind. She was not going to ask him how she smelled now. Instead,
she leaned her head on his shoulder, figuring it was best to rest
while they could. Who knew what kind of adventure she had just
signed her team up for?
     
    * * * * *
     
    The train had started up again, heading away
from the isolated depot, and Akstyr was trying to get some sleep,
but Maldynado kept climbing in and out through the trapdoor. More
than once, hindered by the dark interior, he stepped on Akstyr with
his big feet.
    “ What’re you doing ?” Akstyr finally
asked.
    A hand covered his mouth, not
Maldynado’s—Akstyr could see Maldynado dangling, legs halfway
through the trapdoor. It had to be Basilard.
    Akstyr pushed the hand away and asked more
softly, “What’re you doing? Both of you.”
    Maldynado dropped down again and slid the
trapdoor shut, careful not to make any noise. The darkness inside
the car thickened.
    “ They’re done loading the
train,” Maldynado said.
    “ That usually happens
before the train starts moving, yes,” Akstyr said. “Why don’t we
all go back to sleep?”
    “ They didn’t get off the train once they
finished loading.”
    “ They’re riding along with
their guns? That’s not real surprising.”
    “ I guess not.”
    Akstyr flopped back, throwing his arm over
his eyes. “If they stay in their car, and we stay in ours, it
shouldn’t matter.”
    “ As long as we don’t
stumble across each other.” Maldynado laughed. “Could be kind of
awkward if one of us and one of them decide to hop up on top of the
train at the same time to water the shrubs.”
    Akstyr rolled his eyes. Maldynado was at
least ten years older than he was, but he didn’t act like it
sometimes. It was like he was still a boy. Probably because he had
grown up in some wealthy aristocrat’s house, not a backward street
drowning in sewage where, if one didn’t pay attention, one got
kidnapped and sold downriver to be enslaved in the boiler room on a
steamer for years and years. Or worse. Akstyr had lost a friend
with a pretty face to one of the slimy brothels in the ghetto where
nobody cared if the kids were willing screws or not.
    The train picked up speed, leaving the depot
far behind. Akstyr relaxed. Whenever Sicarius was gone, he felt
more at ease, and, with Amaranthe gone too, he could plan his next
move without worrying about—
    “ We could check up on
them,” Maldynado said.
    Akstyr sighed.
    “ Maybe they’re in there,
talking about their weapons and where they’re going,” Maldynado
said. “I reckon the boss would like to have as much information as
possible.”
    “ Go check then. Me and
Basilard will wait here.” Akstyr had no idea what Basilard wanted
to do—it was impossible to talk to him in the dark—but he had more
common sense than Maldynado, so he probably wouldn’t go hunting for
trouble.
    “ How is it that you command
as large of a cut on payday as I do, when you only ever look out
for yourself and your interests?” Maldynado asked.
    “ I’ve got
charms.”
    Maldynado snorted. “Sure, you do. That’s why
you’re always asking me to find you women.”
    “ I can get women without
you.” Actually, Akstyr hadn’t had much success at that, but he’d
never admit it.
    “ Women with
teeth?”
    “ Maldynado, eat
street.”
    “ Uh huh, you’re about as
charming as my hairy—”
    A clunk sounded outside, somewhere nearby,
and Maldynado fell silent. Akstyr lifted his head. The men had been
loading the weapons ten cars farther down the train. That noise had
sounded much nearer.
    “ Move away from the
trapdoor,” Maldynado whispered. “Take your gear too.”
    Akstyr’s first thought was
one of huffiness—who had put him in charge?—but a heavy thump sounded, this time
almost above him, and he hurried to obey. Someone had to be walking
along the tops of the cars, maybe jumping from one to the