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eyed her pistol.
    Since he had the advantage anyway, his weapon still trained on her chest, Amaranthe set her firearm on the floor. If there was a chance she could earn his trust, she’d happily make the first concession. Besides, she always had Akstyr’s secret skills to draw upon if needed, so long as Starcrest didn’t bring his children in. They obviously had some mental sciences training and might sniff out Akstyr’s gift. For all she knew, they’d sensed him untying the ropes and that had been what drew Starcrest back here to start with. But, no, it must be more than that, or he’d simply have sent soldiers. If he’d come alone, he must want to talk to them about something. Maybe he’d believed what she said in the cab.
    Books kicked aside the other firearm they’d taken from the fallen men. The train rolled to a stop, and Starcrest nodded and waved to someone out of Amaranthe’s sight.
    That made her nervous until he holstered the pistol and stepped inside. “Mind if we let these two go?” He spread a hand toward the soldiers.
    “Won’t they go off and tell that colonel that you’re in here alone, being suborned by outlaws?” Amaranthe asked.
    “Suborned?” Starcrest’s eyebrows rose.
    “I was going to say wooed, but I’ve been told that word is ‘sissy.’” She glanced at Akstyr.
    “Well, it is,” he muttered.
    “I simply wish to have a private discussion with you,” Starcrest said. “I’ve already expressed this desire to Colonel Fencrest, and he’s already expressed his vehement disapproval over the notion. What these two report back will matter little in regard to our ability to converse privately until we reach Stumps, which is, if I recall correctly, less than a half an hour away.” He stepped inside and sat on a crate. “We’ll be departing shortly, as nobody’s boarding here in Willow Pond and only two passengers have departed.”
    Two fifteen-year-old siblings too young for the dangers of the capital? There was a north-south train that ran through Willow Pond, heading to numerous quiet rural towns along the way. Maybe Starcrest had relatives in the area, or his own lands might be nearby too, if he still had lands.
    Amaranthe used one of the soldiers’ purloined knives to sever their bonds. Shoulders slumped, heads bowed, they shuffled for the door.
    “My lord,” the corporal said, avoiding Starcrest’s eyes, “we… we were tricked. They—”
    “I’m not in command of anything here, Corporal.” Starcrest said
Corporal
in the same tone a father might say
son
. “I suggest you report to your superior for orders.”
    “Yes, my lord.” The corporal shambled the last two steps to the door, but paused again. “My lord, are you going to tell Sergeant Nastor… uhm.”
    “I doubt I’ll have time to tell your sergeant anything before we arrive in the capital.”
    “Oh.” The corporal exchanged glances with his private, who shrugged back at him. “Thank you, my lord,” he said with more spirit upon realizing that he wasn’t going to be outed for his inability to keep the prisoners secured.
    They hopped from the car and jogged out of sight. A whistle blew outside.
    Before the train chugged into motion again, a woman climbed up to the doorway and hesitated on the threshold until she spotted Starcrest sitting on the crate. Her thick blonde-gray hair fell in a braid down her back, spectacles framed her blue eyes, and freckles splashed cheeks that Amaranthe would consider pale, despite the tanned skin. She wore a soft gray felt dress with wool leggings and heavy boots to thwart the cold.
    “Have a seat, love.” Starcrest gestured to a crate next to his. “These are the outlaws I told you about, people who have unlikely knowledge about our first adventure together.”
    This must be Tikaya Komitopis, the Kyattese linguist and cryptographer. Amaranthe immediately wanted to pump her for information on the
Behemoth
and what she knew about Forge, specifically Suan and Retta.