She dropped the cutlass, belted on thefamiliar blade, and glanced around him at the second soldier. Theprone man was more unconscious than she had left him; she hoped hewas not dead.
Amaranthe knelt to truss her soldier,intending to use his bootlaces to bind ankles and wrists.
"Don't bother," Sicarius said. "We have togo. Now."
"Why? Did you find the-"
"The engineers are dead, the safety valves onall four boilers have been tampered with, and the Kendorian is downthere shoveling coal into the furnaces."
Amaranthe stared. "Why didn't you-"
"There's a trap at the door. I watched twosoldiers run in and get incinerated by flames. There's no way intothe boiler room right now."
"Show me." Amaranthe started past him,heading for the closest ladder, but he gripped her elbow.
"This isn't worth risking your life for,"Sicarius said.
She turned and looked him in the eyes."Hundreds will die if this ship explodes. And what happens if thecity can't import food for the rest of the winter? There are amillion people in the capital. Local stores aren't enough to feedeveryone." Again, she tried to step toward the ladder, but he didnot release her. She might as well have been bound by steel.
"We'll survive."
A frustrated rant leapt to her lips, but,cursed ancestors, there was no time for arguing. He said sohimself. Grasping for calm, she spoke evenly: "Let me go."
Even now, his face was unreadable. Only thosedark eyes held extra intensity. A heartbeat passed-it seemed likehours-and he released her.
Amaranthe sprinted for the ladder. Ignoringthe rungs, she slid down to the bottom of the ship. Heat bathed heras she stepped into the corridor. She expected to run into crew andsoldiers, but the lanterns on the walls illuminated an emptypassageway.
The chugging and clanking of machinery ledher to the engine room. At the hatchway, she passed the first body: a man in a gray engineer's smock, throat cut, his blood pooled onthe deck.
Nine-tenths of the crew did not know therewas a problem; the other tenth was dead. Great.
She raced through the engine room, a jungleof colored pipes, gauges, and machinery. A railing surrounded thechurning pistons of the engine. More corpses clogged the twistingwalkways.
Two blackened bodies blocked the hatchwayleading to the boiler room. Only the dead men's boots, which stuckout toward Amaranthe, had not been marked. Such intense fire hadcharred their clothing and features that little more than meltedlumps remained. The smell of roasted flesh rose above the odors ofmachine oil and burning coal.
A hand landed on her shoulder. She jumped,but it was only Sicarius. He did not say anything, but she wouldhave had trouble hearing over the machinery anyway.
He crouched, removed one of the dead men'sboots, and tossed it. A curtain of crimson flames flashed acrossthe hatchway. Heat poured out and light flared. Amaranthe stumbledback, shielding her face with her arms. The boot wasincinerated.
When the flames disappeared, leaving only aborder of glowing red along the bulkhead and floor, she waited forSicarius to voice an I-told-you-so. He merely watched her.Expectantly. He must think she had an idea, for why else would sheinsist on racing down here? She smiled bleakly.
It took a few seconds for the crimson bordersto dim and wink out, leaving the bulkhead with no signs of atrap.
"Huh," she muttered.
Amaranthe unlaced two more boots, forcing hermind away from the grisly knowledge that she was disrobing somepoor engineer who had been living but moments before. She tossedthe first boot. The fire curtain burst forth. As soon as thehatchway grew dark again, she threw the second boot. It flewthrough and landed on the other side.
She and Sicarius exchanged significantlooks.
Only when the border faded, heartbeats later,did the trap reset. Sicarius removed the last boot and nodded forher to stand beside him. He tossed it, waited for the flames tocome and go, and they jumped through together.
Though she feared there would be othertraps-or they would run into the invisible saboteur-she ran to thefirst pair of boilers. Pipes rattled, gauges quivered, and needlespushed into the red. There was no time for caution.
Steel squealed just behind her. Amaranthespun, sword ready.
Sicarius landed in a crouch, a dagger in eachhand, and a pair of buckskin fringes wafted to the floor. TheKendorian must have attacked.
"Find the blow off valves," Sicarius yelledover the clamoring machinery. He glided into position at her back."I'm here."
How could one defeat-or even defendagainst-an invisible foe? Especially here, where noise and smelldrowned out the other senses? He would have to figure it out.
She spotted the safety valve on the firstboiler, and her shoulders slumped. Warped and melted metal made thehandle inoperable. For a lost moment, she stared at the tangle ofpipes, gauges, and wheels. Heat roared from the furnace, and sweatbeaded on her forehead. Why couldn't there be a blessed engineeralive?
Sicarius brushed her back, and someone criedout. A bevy of Kendorian curses followed. She glanced back to seeSicarius lunge. Despite his speed, he connected with nothing.
A nearby wall held another firefightingstation. Amaranthe spotted the axe.
"Back in a second," she said to Sicarius.
She sprinted over and grabbed the axe. If shecouldn't engineer a solution, brute force might work. She ran back,tool raised. As soon as she reached the boiler, she smashed thewarped valve.
Steam burst free, and she barely threwherself to the side before it blistered her face. It worked,though, and the gauge's needle dropped out of the red.
"Got one," Amaranthe said.
She darted toward the second boiler, buttripped over something she could not see. Lightning flashed and anelectrical force pounded her. Energy crackled about her. Agony torethrough her body, and she dropped the axe, crumpling to herknees.
As abruptly as the pain came, it disappeared.Sicarius rolled past, grappling with their invisible assailant.
Amaranthe shook off the attack, snatched theaxe, and launched herself at the second valve.
"Two of them," Sicarius barked.
Amaranthe smashed the valve. Again, steamwhooshed out, parting around an invisible figure. It lunged towardAmaranthe.
She whipped the axe across, hoping to keepthe attacker at bay. The heavy blade slammed into flesh with amoist meaty thump.
A scream buffeted Amaranthe's ears, and shereleased the axe. The invisibility spell flickered out. A blondewoman collapsed. She struck the floor, gasping, curling around theaxe head lodged in her gut.
Movement pulled Amaranthe's gaze to the side.A Kendorian male lay on his back, a dagger protruding from hischest.
Sicarius rolled to his feet with a secondblade in his hand. He sliced the woman's throat.
"The other boilers," Amaranthe remembered,forcing her gaze from the dying Kendorian.
Sicarius tore the axe free and finished thetask. Legs rubbery, Amaranthe walked around to each boiler, doublechecking gauges to make sure the threat was over. She pushed dampstrands of hair out of her eyes with trembling hands. Sicariusappeared as calm as ever, though sweat dampened his hair. She triedto catch his eye to give him a nod of thanks, but he faced theother direction, a throwing knife in hand.