Page 19 of Only Hard Problems
Asterin snorted. “We will never bematched.”
I thought of the dazzling opal necklace still nestled in the jewelry box in my coat pocket. “You are severely underestimating my grandmother’s determination.”
Anger flashed in her eyes. “No one else’s determination decidesmyfate.”
A grudging bit of respect filled me. Asterin Armas had plenty of fighting spirit, although going up against Beatrice Zimmer almost always ended up being a losing battle.
“Matchmaking aside, that still doesn’t explain why you’re sneaking around this part of the castle.” My eyes narrowed. “Has your husband-hunting these past several months just been a cover? A clever way for you to infiltrate Regal castles to steal their technology?”
Asterin stiffened, and a bit of guilt flickered across her face before she could hide it. My chest twisted with something that felt a lot like disappointment. Despite my suspicions about her ulterior motives, I’d wanted to be wrong about her. I wasn’t quite sure why.
I kept firing questions at her. “Is the rogue guard working for you? What are the two of you after?”
A confused frown creased Asterin’s face. “What rogue guard?”
“I believe Lord Zane is referring to me,” a deep, snide voice called out.
Asterin and I both spun to the side.
Silas was now standing in the corridor, still wearing House Rojillo armor, along with black gloves. A shock baton dangled from his belt, but somewhere along the way, he’d acquired a much more impressive weapon: a large silver hand cannon that was pointed straight at me.
Silas reached over and hit a button on his left glove. An instant later, his armor started rippling, as though it was made of water instead of tough, strong, solid polyplastic. The ripples darkened, and within seconds, his armor had shifted from House Rojillo pink to a shiny black, belt, boots, and all. Neat trick.
Still keeping his cannon aimed at me, Silas let out a low whistle, as though he was the master of the castle summoning a pack of dogs to his side. A series of loud, familiarclanksrang out, and four figures appeared in the corridor behind him. The hulking figures were encased in sleek black polymetal armor, and compound green eyes glowed in their heads, making them resemble oversize insects.
Beside me, Asterin tensed. “Black Scarabs,” she whispered.
Her shock punched into my stomach, then churned alongside my own worry. This wasn’t some corporate-espionage scheme to steal proprietary designs from House Rojillo. It was so much worse than that.
The Techwave was here.
Iflippedthroughmymental catalog of Techwave members, trying to connect Silas’s face with his real name, whatever it was, but I didn’t come up with a match. Not surprising. The Techwave was all about compartmentalization, and not much was known about the group’s senior members and leadership. Even Callus Holloway, with all his spies, hadn’t been able to penetrate the terrorist organization’s upper echelon, much less figure out what its ultimate plot was against the Imperium.
Silas grinned at me. “Have I rendered the great Zane Zimmer speechless? How delightful.”
A hint of the familiar Corios accent tinged his voice, signaling that he had spent some time among the Regals. Perhaps he was a former guard who had defected from the Imperium and gone over to the Techwave. Either way, working for the Techies was going to be the last mistake he ever made.
I tightened my grip on my stormsword. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting what I came for.” Silas jerked the cannon at me. “You can come along quietly, and I might let you live. Or you can cause trouble and die where you stand. Your choice, Arrow.”
His cold brown gaze flicked over to Asterin, and his grin took on a sharp, predatory edge. “After all, I only need one hostage.”
I growled and stepped forward, putting myself between Asterin and the Techwavers. I might not like Asterin, and she clearly had nefarious reasons for being here, but she was still a guest, the same as everyone else at the solstice celebration. I was an Arrow, sworn to protect the Imperium, and I would be damned if I let this bastard and his mechanized troops hurt her.
Silas rolled his eyes, as if my defiance was expected but still annoying. “Kill him.”
Two of the Black Scarabs rushed forward, their metal feet clanking against the floor in a rolling, ominous rhythm.
I snapped up my sword. “Run!” I yelled at Asterin. “Get help!”
She shook her head, yanked her blaster out of her pocket, and stepped up beside me. “You need help right now!”
Bloody stubborn spy. She was right, although I would never admit it. Still, I was determined to protect her, so I sprinted ahead, taking the fight away from Asterin and to the Black Scarabs.
At the last instant, right before I would have plowed straight into the troops, I dropped into a slide across the slick tile floor like an athlete trying to reach the goal line. I put some telekinesis into the motion and ducked my head, zipping right through the wide-spread legs of the closest Black Scarab.
The second I was past the mechanized troop, I dug the toe of my right boot into the floor, stopping my slide and popping back up onto my feet. Then, still going low, I spun back around and sliced my stormsword through the Scarab’s legs, right above its knee joints. The lunarium blade easily sheared through the tough black polymetal, spitting hot blue sparks everywhere.