Read Online Crystal Universe - [Crystal Singer 03] - Crystal Line by Anne McCaffrey - Free Book Online Page B

anything? It was
today
that mattered, and how well they spent it, how much they enjoyed it, or, if they were working in the Ranges, how much they could cut in a day!
    Lars regarded her in surprise and then apologized in such a perfunctory manner that he aggravated her further. The lingering stress put a bit of a damper on their journey to the resort Killashandra had chosen. But once at the ’port that serviced the area—a long narrow valley amidst the most magnificent mountain scenery—her mood lifted.
    The ’port was above the snowline in the mountainous rim of Sherpa’s main continent, Nepal. They were collected at the door by the soberly welcoming rep of the snotel they had booked into.
    “I am Mashid,” he told them, making a low, respectful bow. Dark almond-shaped eyes did not so much as blink as he continued his greeting. “I have been appointed to see that your sojourn with us is all that you desired.”
    Killashandra and Lars exchanged quick looks.
    “We’re remarkably easy to please,” Killa said, “so long as you don’t show me any large bodies of water.” She dug Lars in the ribs.
    “All water at this altitude is frozen,” Mashid replied stolidly.
    “What do we drink then?” Lars asked with a bare twitch of his lips. “Melted snow?”
    “Drinking water”—and Mashid’s attitude toward drinking
that
was contemptuous—“is of course supplied as needed from protected reservoirs.”
    “I was joking,” Lars said.
    “As you wish.” Mashid tendered another bow. Sweat had appeared on his forehead, for he was bundled in furs and thick fur-topped boots.
    “Lead on,” Lars suggested, gesturing to the door. He and Killashandra had bought outerwear suitable to the mountain climate but, though it had been pricey in the spaceport shop, neither jacket was as lush as Mashid’s apparel. They learned later that he had caught, tanned, and made his own garments as most of the mountain people here did.
    Turning with yet another bow, Mashid led them outside to an animal-drawn sleigh, brightly painted in orange and black stripes with the name of their snotel blazoned in huge letters on its sides. A pair of antlered, rough-coated beasts were harnessed to it, stamping their cloven hooves in the snow. They were nearly as long as the sleigh.
    Lars and Killashandra were gestured into the passenger seat, and an immense fur robe was deftly tucked about them. Mashid swung expertly up onto the driver’s seat and flicked a whip at the rumps of the beasts. The speed of their departure nearly gave Lars and Killashandra whiplash.
    The pace was exhilarating; so was the crisp air, and the unusual method of transportation. Killa laughed aloud in sheer delight. She couldn’t remember ever seeing so much snow before. She almost asked Lars if they had and then, as abruptly, didn’t want to know: she wanted less to know if she had seen snow than if Lars could remember if they had. Then he turned a happy smile to her and it didn’t matter. She was here, with Lars, and they had months before they had to even
think
of crystal and Ballybran. She was then totally distracted by the cold wind nipping at her ears and clamped her gloved hands together to protect them.
    In their four months at the snotel, they attempted every single snow sport available, including races on single skis and on sno-bikes down almost vertical slopes. They missed being buried in an avalanche by the length of a ski; they skate-danced, snow-surfed and -planed, and went spelunking through ice and rock caverns of incredible beauty. They absorbed Mashid’s instructions and improved on them, until eventually they surprised approval—even compliments—from the sturdy Nepalese, who began to view their near-indestructibility with awe. They doubted he had ever met crystal singers before or knew that their minor bruises, lacerations, and contusions healed overnight, leaving them fully able to cope with the new day’s ordeals. They almost regretted leaving him