The Emperor's Edge 3: Deadly Games

The Emperor's Edge 3: Chapter 9 Part 3

She peered through the gate and counted five soldiers sprawled on the floor amongst overturned boxes and tipped lanterns. A couple had taken steps toward the exit, but most had collapsed where they stood. The vial, now cracked, gleamed where it had come to rest against the wall. The powder had disappeared, turned to smoke and vanished.

Amaranthe decided not to risk getting close enough to investigate further. She checked the keys she had taken from the soldier. A fob read Polga’s Pyramid Tours.

“Let’s hope Polga has the power to lock and unlock the gates,” she said.

“Talking to yourself again?” Maldynado asked as he and Books strode around the corner.

“No.” Amaranthe tried one of the keys in the lock. “I knew you’d be here to hear me.”

“The other soldier is sufficiently trussed up,” Books said.

“Albeit, he’ll find it a bit drafty in here without his pants,” Maldynado said.

“They’re the only thing that could be used to tie his ankles together and bind them to his wrists,” Books said.

“I’m not judging you,” Maldynado said. “That, given the opportunity, your first thought was to strip a handsome, young soldier of his pants doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re odious.”

“They were setting up an ambush,” Amaranthe said. “Perhaps we should stop talking until we’ve subdued the bait.”

The fourth key she tried turned in the lock. Good. She closed the gate and secured the soldiers inside.

“Do we believe the bait is Mancrest?” Books whispered.

“We’ll see.”

She debated whether to continue forward with the lantern dimmed, but decided the bait would expect her, so she might as well come in as anticipated. There just wouldn’t be a squad of soldiers ready to charge in and capture her.

She pulled her kerchief down around her neck, and she, Maldynado, and Books followed the corridor to a ramp that angled downward, then turned at the bottom. More hieroglyphs adorned the walls down here, though she did not spot any more dogs engaged in carnal activities.

The corridor widened and angled to the right. Light came from ahead. More gates marked the walls, and cells—shops—lay behind them. A mix of tacky “adventuring hats,” pyramid-related paraphernalia, and history books adorned the shelves.

The light ahead of them was coming from one of the shops. Amaranthe cut off her lantern and approached on silent feet.

She stopped at the gate. She did not see anyone inside, though a candle burned on a merchant’s counter, the flame sputtering on the wick, and a hint of beeswax tinged the musty air. Racks of cheap factory-made clothing stretched along the walls.

A low groan emanated from the back of the shop. Ah, there was their bait.

A man lay on the floor, his back to them, wrists and ankles tied with a fat rope. Perhaps it had been chosen for its visibility—one could not miss it, even from the corridor. The wavy brown hair on the man’s head was a familiar hue and length.

Amaranthe lifted her eyebrows toward Maldynado. He nodded. Yes, it was Mancrest.

The gate stood open. Amaranthe slid her hand into her pocket, wrapping her fingers about the cool metal keys. Though she meant to abandon stealth in a moment, she did her best to withdraw the fob quietly.

“Evening, Lord Mancrest,” she said as she selected the key that had worked on the other gate. The number of shops—and locks—they had passed suggested one key opened multiple doors. “How’d you get yourself tied up there?”