Read Online King of Swords (The Starfolk) by Dave Duncan - Free Book Online
Authors: Dave Duncan
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status is.”
Snip!
“What’s status, most noble Starling Izar?”
“It’s when the court decides whether you’re too ugly to be a halfling, so you must really be an earthling or a mudling.”
Snip!
“Then it decides who owns you and he has to keep you dressed so you don’t show your disgusting deformities. And if it decides you’re too dangerous to live in the Starlands, then it’ll order you to be put down.”
Snip!
Big grin.
“And if I’m not too ugly or too dangerous?”
“Then it’ll list you as a halfling, but you’ll have to find a starborn to sponsor you. That’s status. Are you dangerous?”
Rigel decided that his behavior while shopping in Nanaimo could justify classifyng him as extremely dangerous. “So-so. Usually I’m a cuddly kitten, but I turn into a man-eating tiger at the full moon. What if I don’t get status or can’t find asponsor?” Saiph wouldn’t allow him to be “put down” easily, if that meant what he thought it did.
“Don’t even ask!” Izar said darkly.
Snip! Snip!
“I do ask, most noble Izar Starling.”
The starling pulled a face. “I don’t know. That’s why I told you not to ask. I ’spec it’s pretty horrible, though.” Izar stepped back to admire his work, and Rigel realized that he was cutting the hair with two fingers, pretend scissors. They made the right
snip
sound, and they cut through the hair like a razor. More magic.
“What do you do when you’re not cutting hair?”
“All sorts of things.”
“Like what? What do you enjoy most?”
Izar went back to snipping. “White-water swimming. Rock climbing. Unicorn riding. I have my own unicorn, and his name’s Narwhale. My dog’s name is Terror, and I teach him tricks. And I like kite riding, way up high, and training my puma and playing my lute and doing magic. I’m good for my age.”
“I can see that.”
Izar glanced up to smile at whoever had just come through the door behind Rigel. “How’s that look, Greatmother? Don’t blame me for his ears, they were that small when I started. He still looks savage enough, doesn’t he?”
Rigel wished he had a mirror, but the gale was making his eyes water so much that it might not have been of use anyway. He rose and turned to meet the lovely Alniyat’s silver gaze.
She smiled. “He’s done a wonderful job for a first attempt. But let me…” She gestured, and a mist of hair cuttings swirled away into the air. “That’s better. Come along and I’ll take you to a mirror.” She offered a long-fingered hand.
Rigel said, “Thank you for the haircut, most noble Izar Starling.”
“Oh, really!
Izar, I told you not to speak to the halfling.”
“Sorry, Greatmother.” The dagger teeth showed in an unrepentant grin. “He looked scared, and I wanted to cheer him up.”
“Imp!”
She opened the door, and this time it led into darkness and warm, heavily scented air. Sunlight streaming in from the balcony illuminated a path of fieldstones. Alniyat and Rigel’s shadows cut across it like bars on a dungeon window. When the door closed behind them, they stood still for a moment, waiting for their eyes to adjust.
“You don’t look at all scared,” she said. “Or savage.” She squeezed his hand.
He squeezed back encouragingly—as the proverb said, when in Rome, do whatever you can get away with. Once he had adjusted to the lighting, he turned to look at her. Their eyes were exactly level, although her ears made her taller. They did not look foolish on her—they were exactly right; she was perfect in every way and breathtakingly beautiful.
“Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
As a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear:
Beauty too rich for use, for Earth too dear.”
Her silver eyes opened wider. “Where does that come from?”
“Shakespeare.”
“Where’s that? Never mind. I’m not Izar’s greatmother, you know. I’m his sister, stars help me. You mustn’t believe a
Snip!
“What’s status, most noble Starling Izar?”
“It’s when the court decides whether you’re too ugly to be a halfling, so you must really be an earthling or a mudling.”
Snip!
“Then it decides who owns you and he has to keep you dressed so you don’t show your disgusting deformities. And if it decides you’re too dangerous to live in the Starlands, then it’ll order you to be put down.”
Snip!
Big grin.
“And if I’m not too ugly or too dangerous?”
“Then it’ll list you as a halfling, but you’ll have to find a starborn to sponsor you. That’s status. Are you dangerous?”
Rigel decided that his behavior while shopping in Nanaimo could justify classifyng him as extremely dangerous. “So-so. Usually I’m a cuddly kitten, but I turn into a man-eating tiger at the full moon. What if I don’t get status or can’t find asponsor?” Saiph wouldn’t allow him to be “put down” easily, if that meant what he thought it did.
“Don’t even ask!” Izar said darkly.
Snip! Snip!
“I do ask, most noble Izar Starling.”
The starling pulled a face. “I don’t know. That’s why I told you not to ask. I ’spec it’s pretty horrible, though.” Izar stepped back to admire his work, and Rigel realized that he was cutting the hair with two fingers, pretend scissors. They made the right
snip
sound, and they cut through the hair like a razor. More magic.
“What do you do when you’re not cutting hair?”
“All sorts of things.”
“Like what? What do you enjoy most?”
Izar went back to snipping. “White-water swimming. Rock climbing. Unicorn riding. I have my own unicorn, and his name’s Narwhale. My dog’s name is Terror, and I teach him tricks. And I like kite riding, way up high, and training my puma and playing my lute and doing magic. I’m good for my age.”
“I can see that.”
Izar glanced up to smile at whoever had just come through the door behind Rigel. “How’s that look, Greatmother? Don’t blame me for his ears, they were that small when I started. He still looks savage enough, doesn’t he?”
Rigel wished he had a mirror, but the gale was making his eyes water so much that it might not have been of use anyway. He rose and turned to meet the lovely Alniyat’s silver gaze.
She smiled. “He’s done a wonderful job for a first attempt. But let me…” She gestured, and a mist of hair cuttings swirled away into the air. “That’s better. Come along and I’ll take you to a mirror.” She offered a long-fingered hand.
Rigel said, “Thank you for the haircut, most noble Izar Starling.”
“Oh, really!
Izar, I told you not to speak to the halfling.”
“Sorry, Greatmother.” The dagger teeth showed in an unrepentant grin. “He looked scared, and I wanted to cheer him up.”
“Imp!”
She opened the door, and this time it led into darkness and warm, heavily scented air. Sunlight streaming in from the balcony illuminated a path of fieldstones. Alniyat and Rigel’s shadows cut across it like bars on a dungeon window. When the door closed behind them, they stood still for a moment, waiting for their eyes to adjust.
“You don’t look at all scared,” she said. “Or savage.” She squeezed his hand.
He squeezed back encouragingly—as the proverb said, when in Rome, do whatever you can get away with. Once he had adjusted to the lighting, he turned to look at her. Their eyes were exactly level, although her ears made her taller. They did not look foolish on her—they were exactly right; she was perfect in every way and breathtakingly beautiful.
“Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
As a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear:
Beauty too rich for use, for Earth too dear.”
Her silver eyes opened wider. “Where does that come from?”
“Shakespeare.”
“Where’s that? Never mind. I’m not Izar’s greatmother, you know. I’m his sister, stars help me. You mustn’t believe a
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