Read Online Angel-Seeker by Sharon Shinn - Free Book Online Page A

first boy said.
    â€œOr jewels. He might want to buy jewels,” a third one guessed.
    â€œI know who has the best gold in Breven,” the first boy said. “I’ll take you to his tent right now.”
    â€œHe’s not going to your grandfather’s stall! No angel wants to be cheated by that old man!”
    â€œMy grandfather is not a cheat! Your father is a cheat and a liar—”
    They were that quickly squabbling among themselves. So much for their status as uncorrupted youths. “Could you—excuse me a moment—before you get too deeply into a discussion of whose father is more despicable, could you possibly tell me where the merchant Uriah can be found?”
    â€œI’ll take you to see him,” one boy said promptly. “For a copper.”
    Obadiah had to laugh. Contentious and enterprising; yes, theyhad been bred up from the cradle to enact all the vices of their heritage. “Done,” he said before someone else could make a counteroffer. “Is it far?”
    â€œYou’ll see,” the boy replied, and darted off into the makeshift alleys of the market. Ignoring the hoots and insults of the other boys, Obadiah followed his guide as best he could. It was hard to thread his way through the crowded pathways of the market, but he held his wings tightly behind him and hoped no one stepped clumsily on one of his trailing feathers. He murmured apologies as he brushed past bulky, impassive Jansai who did not bother to give way for him, and he nodded in a friendly way whenever he caught someone’s speculative eyes upon his face. Angels did not often come to Breven just to frolic for an afternoon. They all knew he had arrived with some purpose, and they were busy trying to deduce what it might be.
    â€œAngelo! Here we are! Where’s my copper?” his thieving little escort announced. “Here” was a fairly impressive booth consisting of a broad table covered by a bright red awning, which was attached to a roomy tent made of a similar red fabric. Three lean, dark, dangerous-looking Jansai men worked behind the table. A crowd of ten or fifteen gathered on the buyer’s side, picking through merchandise. Obadiah thought the items for sale looked like Luminaux weavings, but he didn’t pause to examine them too closely.
    â€œThanks,” he said, flipping a coin to the boy, who plucked it neatly from the air. Then he turned to one of the young men working. “Is Uriah to be found here? My name is Obadiah, and I’ve come to speak with him.”
    The young man looked him over with hostile eyes. He had fair skin burned dark by the sun, muddy blond hair, and the physique of a runner. Don’t be so proud; you’ll be fat in another five years, Obadiah thought uncharitably. But it was true. He had never seen a thin Jansai who was over the age of thirty.
    â€œHe’s inside,” the man said at last. “But I don’t know if he’s got time to talk to visitors.”
    Obadiah nodded pleasantly. “That’s fine. I can wait.”
    The young man hesitated a moment. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”
    â€œThank you. You’re so kind.”
    The man disappeared inside the tent. Obadiah found himselfwondering what he would do if he really had to kill a few hours in this godforsaken town. Find a hotel for the night, he supposed. He would have to stay overnight in any case, since the flight back was too long to accomplish this evening, whether or not Uriah chose to speak to him now.
    But the Jansai chieftain was disposed to be gracious. He emerged from the tent with his arms flung wide and a smile spread across his broad, greasy face. Uriah embodied the full flavor and style of the Jansai elder. He was heavy, sly, oily, well-dressed in the Jansai fashion, covered with jewelry, and wholly untrustworthy.
    â€œObadiah! What a pleasure to see you in Breven, and at my tent of all places! Come in, come in!