Read Online The Blood Debt by Sean Williams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sean Williams
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at the other miners and their wings before making moves to leave the niche.
‘Wait,’ he said, gripping her forearm. ‘I can’t believe you’re seriously thinking of doing this — stealing a balloon and helping me rescue my mother. Aren’t you in enough trouble already?’
Her eyes moved restlessly as they focused first on his left pupil, then the right, then back again. ‘You don’t get it yet, do you? This isn’t about you. I expect to be compensated. Handsomely, too. Otherwise you’re right: there’s nothing in it for me but more hot water.’
He didn’t know what he’d expected, but her words disappointed him. ‘I’ll make sure you get what you deserve,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry about that.’
‘Good. Then let’s get going. The air is thin up here. It’s making me thirsty.’
* * * *
Street-level frontage in Laure was at such a premium that most shops performed two or more functions simultaneously. Food vendors also sold coffee and tightly rolled cigarettes, and provided venues for wiry old people to play complicated-looking games involving tiles and dice. They served alcohol as well, as Skender discovered half an hour later — although he received the distinct impression that most of the business in the narrow bar Chu had taken him to was conducted out the back behind the kitchen, where money changed hands over flat paper packets whose contents he didn’t want to know anything about, beyond a quick glimpse as they passed through. The black market thrived in Laure, which had laboured under strict rationing for as long as anyone could remember. Traders visited regularly, but never frequently enough to satisfy the populace.
‘I suppose I’m paying for this as well as dinner,’ he said as a waiter brought two stubby glasses and a bottle of milky liquid to their table. Chu muttered something in reply, then nodded thanks to the waiter and started to pour.
‘What did you say?’ he asked. It was hard to hear over the racket of the band. The instruments were unfamiliar to his ears, as were the tunes, but there was no denying the musicians’ enthusiasm.
‘I said, shut up and enjoy.’ She handed him a glass. The weathered leather of her jacket hung over the back of a chair. Under it she wore a grey tank top that revealed light brown skin covered in a fine patina of sweat. It was stifling in the tavern.
He loosened the neck of his robes and took the glass somewhat nervously. Personal experience had taught him that the alcohol content of a drink was inversely proportional to the size of the glass it came in. These glasses were tiny.
Chu knocked hers back with one gulp. Skender took a deep breath, and followed suit.
For a brief moment, he thought he might die. His tongue curled up and his throat burned. Water sprang from his eyes. His gut clenched.
‘Do you like it?’ she asked with a gleam in her eye.
‘Wonderful,’ he managed. ‘A couple more of those and getting across the Divide will be the least of my troubles.’
‘That’s the idea.’ Chu refilled their glasses, revealing as she did so a procession of fine pink cuts up the inside of her left wrist. She didn’t explain them. ‘We’ve made it known that we want to see the Magister. Now all we can do is wait for her to contact us.’
‘How long will that take?’
‘Could be a day or two.’ She burped with enough gusto to drown out the band, then downed the second shot. ‘Might as well relax in the meantime.’
‘On my savings.’
‘You know you’re getting your money’s worth.’ She indicated the glass in front of him with her chin. ‘Going to drink that, or are you hoping it might evaporate?’
He tossed it back with a grimace, fuelling the fire already burning in his belly. She filled the glasses a third time.
‘Tell me something, Skender Van Haasteren. Tell me what your mother was looking for.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Oh, come on. You don’t have to keep secrets from
‘Wait,’ he said, gripping her forearm. ‘I can’t believe you’re seriously thinking of doing this — stealing a balloon and helping me rescue my mother. Aren’t you in enough trouble already?’
Her eyes moved restlessly as they focused first on his left pupil, then the right, then back again. ‘You don’t get it yet, do you? This isn’t about you. I expect to be compensated. Handsomely, too. Otherwise you’re right: there’s nothing in it for me but more hot water.’
He didn’t know what he’d expected, but her words disappointed him. ‘I’ll make sure you get what you deserve,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry about that.’
‘Good. Then let’s get going. The air is thin up here. It’s making me thirsty.’
* * * *
Street-level frontage in Laure was at such a premium that most shops performed two or more functions simultaneously. Food vendors also sold coffee and tightly rolled cigarettes, and provided venues for wiry old people to play complicated-looking games involving tiles and dice. They served alcohol as well, as Skender discovered half an hour later — although he received the distinct impression that most of the business in the narrow bar Chu had taken him to was conducted out the back behind the kitchen, where money changed hands over flat paper packets whose contents he didn’t want to know anything about, beyond a quick glimpse as they passed through. The black market thrived in Laure, which had laboured under strict rationing for as long as anyone could remember. Traders visited regularly, but never frequently enough to satisfy the populace.
‘I suppose I’m paying for this as well as dinner,’ he said as a waiter brought two stubby glasses and a bottle of milky liquid to their table. Chu muttered something in reply, then nodded thanks to the waiter and started to pour.
‘What did you say?’ he asked. It was hard to hear over the racket of the band. The instruments were unfamiliar to his ears, as were the tunes, but there was no denying the musicians’ enthusiasm.
‘I said, shut up and enjoy.’ She handed him a glass. The weathered leather of her jacket hung over the back of a chair. Under it she wore a grey tank top that revealed light brown skin covered in a fine patina of sweat. It was stifling in the tavern.
He loosened the neck of his robes and took the glass somewhat nervously. Personal experience had taught him that the alcohol content of a drink was inversely proportional to the size of the glass it came in. These glasses were tiny.
Chu knocked hers back with one gulp. Skender took a deep breath, and followed suit.
For a brief moment, he thought he might die. His tongue curled up and his throat burned. Water sprang from his eyes. His gut clenched.
‘Do you like it?’ she asked with a gleam in her eye.
‘Wonderful,’ he managed. ‘A couple more of those and getting across the Divide will be the least of my troubles.’
‘That’s the idea.’ Chu refilled their glasses, revealing as she did so a procession of fine pink cuts up the inside of her left wrist. She didn’t explain them. ‘We’ve made it known that we want to see the Magister. Now all we can do is wait for her to contact us.’
‘How long will that take?’
‘Could be a day or two.’ She burped with enough gusto to drown out the band, then downed the second shot. ‘Might as well relax in the meantime.’
‘On my savings.’
‘You know you’re getting your money’s worth.’ She indicated the glass in front of him with her chin. ‘Going to drink that, or are you hoping it might evaporate?’
He tossed it back with a grimace, fuelling the fire already burning in his belly. She filled the glasses a third time.
‘Tell me something, Skender Van Haasteren. Tell me what your mother was looking for.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Oh, come on. You don’t have to keep secrets from
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