Read Online The Price of the Stars: Book One of Mageworlds by Debra Doyle, James D. MacDonald - Free Book Online
Authors: Debra Doyle, James D. MacDonald
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How did you come by this stuff on a lieutenant’s pay?”
“Family cellars,” said Ari, with a shrug. “Before that it was part of Warhammer ’s liquor supply—and who knows how my father got it. I brought it with me to Nammerin as a consolation prize for getting assigned here, and wound up being too busy to drink it.”
“So what’s an heirloom like that doing in a bar like this?” asked Jessan. “Meaning no disrespect to Greentrees, of course.”
“I dropped it into the carrybag before we left base,” Ari said. “Seeing that you’re leaving for Pleyver, and Mistress Hyfid has just arrived, and you’ve got a promotion that we still haven’t celebrated properly—”
Jessan cut him off. “Are you proposing to share this jewel with us?”
“I am.”
“In that case …” The Khesatan regarded the bottle for a moment before popping the seal. He poured a generous shot into a clean glass, and then repeated the ritual twice more for Llannat and Ari.
“A toast to our beloved Commanding General!” Jessan said. “After all,” he added in an aside, “it’s his brandy.”
Ari laughed, and drained the glass. He held it out to Jessan for a refill. Llannat, meanwhile, had taken a small sip. Now she sat leaning back against the wall of the booth, with the glass cradled between her hands.
“This stuff isn’t booze,” she said, after a few moments. “It’s a religious experience.”
Ari looked at her. “The patterns of the universe as seen through the bottom of a bottle?”
She cocked an eyebrow at him and took another small sip. “Why not? It’s a part of the universe like everything else.”
“Including Tree Frog beer?”
“Sure,” she said. “But this stuff’s like all of autumn caught in a glass: the sun, the breeze from the high slopes, the wineberries after the first frost … .”
The Adept’s dark eyes grew hazy and faraway, looking at something in the middle distance that only she could see. Ari watched her uneasily—she didn’t appear to be the sort who was given to prophecies and visions, but you never could tell. She came out of the reverie without saying anything unnerving, however, and applied herself to the marsh eel soup as though nothing had happened.
Jessan, meanwhile, had bowed to local custom and was washing down the strong-flavored soup with more Tree Frog beer. After Llannat’s brief excursion into mysticism, Ari found himself unwilling to spoil the memory of that first taste of brandy, and contented himself with refilling his water glass.
The soup was followed by tusker-ox steaks in red spore sauce, and then by a jellied fruit pie. At last, midnight drew near. Ari stood, and Jessan handed over the bundle of cash.
“There you are,” the Khesatan said. “Remember—try to keep a low profile. As low as possible, that is.”
“Very funny,” said Ari. “Just make sure that you two have the scoutcar ready to pick me up at fifteen after. I’d hate to have to walk all the way home.”
IV. NAMMERIN: NAMPORT GALCEN: PRIME BASE
T HE AIR outside the Greentrees Lounge hit Ari like a wet towel. Clouds obscured the night sky, and a warm mist hung in the air and made hazy circles around the streetlights. Despite his relative abstinence at dinner, Ari found himself light-headed—probably, he decided, some sort of interaction between the Tree Frog Export Dark and the Uplands Reserve. He shrugged and started walking.
Greentrees and Munngralla’s curio shop were on opposite sides of town, with the port area sprawling between them. Ari took the long way around, swinging in a half-circle through streets that were for the most part lighted but empty. Even in a galactic backwater like Nammerin, portside on a LastDay night could get rough—and while the Mark VI blaster could probably settle any trouble that didn’t answer to mass and strength alone, the combination would be sure to get him noticed.
The CO’s entitled to a little discretion, he thought. And anyhow
“Family cellars,” said Ari, with a shrug. “Before that it was part of Warhammer ’s liquor supply—and who knows how my father got it. I brought it with me to Nammerin as a consolation prize for getting assigned here, and wound up being too busy to drink it.”
“So what’s an heirloom like that doing in a bar like this?” asked Jessan. “Meaning no disrespect to Greentrees, of course.”
“I dropped it into the carrybag before we left base,” Ari said. “Seeing that you’re leaving for Pleyver, and Mistress Hyfid has just arrived, and you’ve got a promotion that we still haven’t celebrated properly—”
Jessan cut him off. “Are you proposing to share this jewel with us?”
“I am.”
“In that case …” The Khesatan regarded the bottle for a moment before popping the seal. He poured a generous shot into a clean glass, and then repeated the ritual twice more for Llannat and Ari.
“A toast to our beloved Commanding General!” Jessan said. “After all,” he added in an aside, “it’s his brandy.”
Ari laughed, and drained the glass. He held it out to Jessan for a refill. Llannat, meanwhile, had taken a small sip. Now she sat leaning back against the wall of the booth, with the glass cradled between her hands.
“This stuff isn’t booze,” she said, after a few moments. “It’s a religious experience.”
Ari looked at her. “The patterns of the universe as seen through the bottom of a bottle?”
She cocked an eyebrow at him and took another small sip. “Why not? It’s a part of the universe like everything else.”
“Including Tree Frog beer?”
“Sure,” she said. “But this stuff’s like all of autumn caught in a glass: the sun, the breeze from the high slopes, the wineberries after the first frost … .”
The Adept’s dark eyes grew hazy and faraway, looking at something in the middle distance that only she could see. Ari watched her uneasily—she didn’t appear to be the sort who was given to prophecies and visions, but you never could tell. She came out of the reverie without saying anything unnerving, however, and applied herself to the marsh eel soup as though nothing had happened.
Jessan, meanwhile, had bowed to local custom and was washing down the strong-flavored soup with more Tree Frog beer. After Llannat’s brief excursion into mysticism, Ari found himself unwilling to spoil the memory of that first taste of brandy, and contented himself with refilling his water glass.
The soup was followed by tusker-ox steaks in red spore sauce, and then by a jellied fruit pie. At last, midnight drew near. Ari stood, and Jessan handed over the bundle of cash.
“There you are,” the Khesatan said. “Remember—try to keep a low profile. As low as possible, that is.”
“Very funny,” said Ari. “Just make sure that you two have the scoutcar ready to pick me up at fifteen after. I’d hate to have to walk all the way home.”
IV. NAMMERIN: NAMPORT GALCEN: PRIME BASE
T HE AIR outside the Greentrees Lounge hit Ari like a wet towel. Clouds obscured the night sky, and a warm mist hung in the air and made hazy circles around the streetlights. Despite his relative abstinence at dinner, Ari found himself light-headed—probably, he decided, some sort of interaction between the Tree Frog Export Dark and the Uplands Reserve. He shrugged and started walking.
Greentrees and Munngralla’s curio shop were on opposite sides of town, with the port area sprawling between them. Ari took the long way around, swinging in a half-circle through streets that were for the most part lighted but empty. Even in a galactic backwater like Nammerin, portside on a LastDay night could get rough—and while the Mark VI blaster could probably settle any trouble that didn’t answer to mass and strength alone, the combination would be sure to get him noticed.
The CO’s entitled to a little discretion, he thought. And anyhow
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