Ice Cracker II Read Free Page A

offered
hope.
    "Hush, woman."
    "10,000 is a lot. And ain't nobody going to
object to your death."
    "10,000 isn't enough to live on for more than
a couple years, and you have to split it, right? A mere 5,000
each." She stopped to trade looks with them. In truth, she just
wanted to take a break in front of that axe. "What you really need
to do is get Sicarius. He's worth millions."
    "Naw, too dangerous. He's a sincere
killer."
    "He's on the ship. It wouldn't be hard to set
something up."
    She had their full attention now. The axe was
in reach, if she could just get a hand free.
    "He trusts me," she said. "I could easily set
a trap. I wouldn't dare go against him alone, but with help...”
    "Maybe we could—" one of the soldiers
started.
    "No, don't be stupid," his comrade said.
"Sicarius would kill us easier than spit."
    She twisted her neck to look behind them.
"Then you'll be concerned that he's standing behind you."
    The soldiers' eyes bulged, and they whirled
about. She yanked her arms free. She grabbed the bucket and threw
the sand just as they turned back and reached for her. Their arms
flailed. They cursed as grit pelted their eyes.
    Amaranthe snatched the axe and swung at the
closest soldier. She turned her wrists and struck with the flat of
the blade. It thudded against the man's head. As he dropped, she
tore his cutlass free. He struck the floor and clutched at his
head, oblivious. She released the axe in favor of the lighter
weapon.
    The other soldier recovered from the sand
barrage and unsheathed his own blade as well as his pistol. He
opened his mouth, but she did not have time for conversation now.
She sidestepped and kicked the pistol out of his grip.
    Cutlass leading, she lunged and slashed,
hoping to catch him by surprise. As a soldier, he would have had
hours of drills pounded into him, though, and he parried easily.
Reluctantly, she settled in for the obligatory exchange where they
gauged each other's strengths and weaknesses. Someone could turn
down the corridor any moment, and now that she was armed, soldiers
would not be her allies.
    His cutlass flashed toward her head. She
recognized the feint—even with his greater arm length, his lunge
would not bring him close—and only dropped her own blade in
anticipation of a second attack. Steel screeched as cutlasses met
before her thigh.
    She used the momentum of the rebound to
riposte, flicking at his wrist. A line of blood appeared in his
flesh.
    Though the small wound could not have hurt
much, his eyes flickered with surprise. It was too small a victory
to celebrate triumph, but first blood was often enough to rattle an
opponent.
    Attacking with more care, the soldier pressed
her with additional strikes. He had reach and strength, but she had
sparred often with Sicarius. Parrying his lightning strikes made
everyone else's blade thrusts seem molasses-like.
    The soldier was careful not to leave himself
open, and she parried and gave ground, studying him, waiting for an
advantage. He cycled through a handful of combination attacks, and
they soon became predictable.
    Someone moved behind him, and she winced.
Amaranthe had to finish this before the second soldier got back
into the fray.
    When the high slash toward her head came
again, she was ready before he fully launched it. She ducked,
tossing out a parry in case his blade came down, and darted in
close. She sliced her cutlass against his ribcage, even as she
continued past and came out behind him.

    He grunted with pain and started to turn
toward her, but she launched a sidekick that could have busted down
a door. His boots left the ground as he sailed backward. His head
struck one of the hanging lanterns. It broke, and he went down
amongst shattering glass.
    Amaranthe whirled, expecting the second
soldier. The black-clad figure standing before her was no soldier
though.
    "I trust you, and you could easily set a trap
for me?" Sicarius held out her short sword, eyebrows arched.
    She grinned. "Even these two