The Emperor's Edge 3: Deadly Games

The Emperor's Edge 3: Chapter 16 Part 2

Amaranthe stumbled back and threw an arm out, trying to keep herself from falling, but the smooth walls offered no hand holds, and the suit affected her balance. She hit the floor, her helmet flying from her fingers. It clanked down the corridor, bouncing as it went, and she cursed under her breath.

Quakes rattled the fortress. Half of her team had fallen to the floor as well, making her glad for her decision to leave the harpoon launchers behind; someone might have cut himself on a poisoned blade.

Curses in foreign languages—multiple foreign languages—spilled from the adjoining corridor.

Amaranthe rolled onto her knees and grabbed her helmet. She waved and pointed toward the ladder, silently urging her team to hurry. She hoped the commotion had kept the practitioners from hearing them.

Merva and the men filed up the ladder. Amaranthe went last, her oversized boots making the ascent awkward.

Clomps sounded in the corridor she was leaving. The practitioners? No, Turgonian words punctuated the footfalls. Those were guards coming.

Ignoring the awkward boots, Amaranthe flew up the last few rungs. She rolled into the corridor above just as a man below demanded, “Have you seen the intruders?”

Her first ludicrous thought was that he was talking to her, but the voice was not that close. The guards had to be at the intersection. She was tempted to stick around to listen to the conversation, and see if she could find out what was going on in the engine room, but those men would soon move on with their hunt.

At the top of the ladder, another hatch-filled metal corridor stretched.

“Which way to navigation?” Amaranthe whispered.

Merva spread her hands, palms up.

“That way.” Maldynado pointed down one corridor. “Or that way.” He pointed the other direction.

“Twit,” Books said.

Amaranthe chose a direction at random. The passage angled to the left, and a well-lit chamber opened up at the end. Something shimmered in the air before it. Some sort of magical hatch?

Books pointed to a plaque above the doorway. “Navigation.”

Amaranthe slowed as they approached. She did not see anyone inside yet, but such an important station should be manned.

Another boom rocked the fortress, though not as fiercely as the first, and she remained upright this time.

What is that? she signed to Books. Some kind of attack from the marine ship?

Charges dropped in a waterproof container? he suggested.

Amaranthe inched closer to the chamber. The far wall held an eight-foot-wide oblong porthole above a console filled with levers, gauges, and a head-sized illuminated dome. Water pressed against the porthole, and an orange glow from the lights outside bathed the silt and rock of the lake floor. A school of the translucent guard fish flitted past.

One man walked into view from the side, and a second rose out of a high-backed chair that had hidden him from sight. They leaned over the controls and argued in their own language. One pointed at the porthole. Muskets leaned against the console between them.

Amaranthe used their distraction to inch closer, though she was careful not to touch the shimmering field. Energy crackled in the air and nipped at her cheeks.

On a side wall, an open weapons locker held cutlasses and the empty musket slots. A row of yellow vials hung in a small rack. If those contained the same concoction that had rendered so many people unconscious, they might prove useful.