The Assassin's Curse Read Online Free

surprised the bones weren’t torn
away by scavengers, but I suppose it’s mostly small game this close
to the city. Rats and carrion birds perhaps.” Talking about it in
that analytical tone helped to distance herself from the horror.
She had seen plenty of dead bodies in her life, but it made her
uneasy, wondering why these people might have killed each other.
Why visit Darkcrest Isle for a duel to the death?
    “ Adon tsk zeel tu ,” Sicarius said.
    “Uhm, what?” Amaranthe asked.
    “What?”
    “What did you just say?” Amaranthe asked.
    “That we should get off the beach.”
    “In what language?”
    “Turgonian.” His voice rarely contained any
nuances that would hint of his thoughts or emotions, but he said
the word in a faintly puzzled tone, as if he thought she were the one who was crazy.
    “Not unless it was some old dialect I’ve
never heard,” Amaranthe said.
    A long moment passed before he said, “We
should complete this task and get off the island as soon as
possible.”
    “On that we can agree.”
    Amaranthe led the way along the beach,
looking for a place to turn inland. Bushes and brambles created
dense undergrowth amongst the evergreens, and she did not like the
idea of using her sword to hack a trail. That would be noisy going,
and she had hopes of catching the thieves unaware.
    Amaranthe caught sight of the boat the
thieves had used and veered toward it. In the growing darkness, she
struggled to see details and ended up patting around the inside.
Maybe the thieves had left some of their purloined goods.
    The bottom of the boat was mostly empty, but
she found two items. One felt like a rifle bullet, though longer
than she was familiar with. It must be one of the cartridges
Sicarius mentioned. The second object had a similar shape, but it
was bigger than her fist. Another cartridge but for a larger
weapon, perhaps? She dumped both into a cargo pocket on the side of
her trousers.
    “We’d best assume they have loaded firearms.
Maybe cannons.” Amaranthe stood and turned, almost bumping into
Sicarius who loomed dark and silent behind her. “Want to see if you
can find their trail?”
    He always seemed to have preternatural
skills, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he could track people at
night.
    Without a word, he headed inland.
    Crossbow in hand, Amaranthe followed. It
bothered her to admit it, even if only to herself, but she was not
certain she wanted him behind her at the moment. Something odd was
going on.
    Sicarius found a game trail between the trees
and glided up a path. Bushes and branches choked it, but he
maneuvered through it soundlessly while Amaranthe struggled to push
through without making noise. It was almost as if he were an
ancestor spirit himself tonight. Strange and inscrutable. More so
than usual.
    Amaranthe wiped sweat from her brow, and
wished the breeze rustling through the undergrowth would bring cool
air. It did not, but it did offer the scent of burning wood. The
campfire Sicarius had mentioned. It seemed strange that those
thieves would light a fire, something that could serve as a beacon.
Maybe it was a trap.
    “Should we be going straight up the trail to
it?” Amaranthe whispered.
    Only the wind answered her. She paused to
listen for rustling on the trail ahead, but there was nothing.
    “Impossible man,” she muttered. Maybe he
intended to do the deed on his own. She was inclined to turn
thieves over to the magistrate rather than kill them, but for spies
stealing imperial technology, death would be the ultimate
punishment regardless.
    A crack sounded, and Amaranthe dropped to the
ground. A gunshot? No, dozens of branches snapped and foliage
rattled. Almost too late, she realized it was a tree falling. She
scampered back as a breeze battered at her. The trunk crashed
across her path, less than two feet from her.
    Heart pounding against her ribs, she gaped at
it. Only luck had kept one of its substantial branches from hitting
her.
    Amaranthe swallowed,