The Emperor's Edge

The Emperor's Edge Ch. 21 Pt. 2

A quick check of the carriage house out back proved Larocka, or perhaps the servants, had taken off with the steam vehicles. Arakan Hill and the Imperial Barracks loomed three or four miles away. With no other alternatives, Amaranthe loped off on foot. Despite her attempt to dismiss them, the others puffed along behind her.

The smell of wood smoke hung in the crisp air, and bare branches turned the moonlight into a latticework of shadows. Last time she walked this way, enforcers had ambushed her. Tonight, no one else lurked on the long street paralleling the Ridge. The city felt oddly quiet, as if it was holding its breath.

They had gone no more than a mile when an explosion boomed into the silence. The cracks of firearms followed, and Amaranthe halted to listen, trying to pinpoint the origins.

Maldynado stopped beside her. “It sounds like it’s coming from the Midtown River.”

The rest of the men caught up.

“They’ve already got Sespian,” Amaranthe said.

Books bent over and sucked in a gulp of air. “It could...just be a...coincidence.”

More firearms bawled in the distance. Up on Arakan Hill, an alarm bell pealed.

“Want to bet on it?” Amaranthe asked.

“No,” Books said.

Running again, they turned west at the next street and raced off Mokath Ridge toward the river. She wished the trolleys were running, but it was too late at night.

Before they made it halfway there, the firing stopped, and only the alarm bell disturbed the silence. Amaranthe fought the urge to zip along faster, leaving the others behind. Her lungs were not yet burning, but she could hear the ragged wheezes of Books and Akstyr. She would probably need their help for whatever they stumbled across.

They rounded a corner, and the 52nd Street Bridge came into view. The street lamps illuminated a ghastly scene, and Amaranthe paused in the shadows.

Black smoke poured from a collision site. Two steam carriages had struck each other at the base of the bridge, one painted in imperial black and gold, the other nondescript. Another of the emperor’s vehicles had crashed through the rail of the bridge, and wobbled tenuously, the front half hanging out over the frozen river twenty feet below. The bodies of imperial soldiers—no, the emperor’s personal guard—littered the blood-smeared street.

“We’re too late,” Amaranthe whispered.

“What was the emperor doing out in the middle of the night?” Maldynado asked.

She touched the communication stone in her pocket. “I bet someone on Larocka’s payroll talked him into coming out. Let’s see if he’s...” She gulped, unable to finish the sentence. She did not want to see Sespian’s broken body on the street.

Despite the late hour, the noise had drawn a crowd from nearby tenements. A handful of enforcers struggled to establish barricades on either side of the bridge, but this had just happened and few men had arrived. Reinforcements would show up shortly, but perhaps Amaranthe could sneak close enough to investigate the crash first.

“Books, come with me, please. The rest of you, a distraction would be good.”

“What kind of distraction?” Maldynado asked.

“The kind where you do something creative to keep the enforcers from noticing us snooping.”

“Creative, eh?” Maldynado tossed a speculative look at his comrades.

Afraid to wonder, Amaranthe grabbed Books and angled toward the river. They passed between two street lamps and skidded down the snowy bank. She flailed but caught her balance on the ice. Books landed on his butt. She paused long enough to help him up, then ran and slid for the closest of the two piers anchored in the river.