Rift in the Sky (52 page)

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Authors: Julie E. Czerneda

BOOK: Rift in the Sky
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Being outnumbered didn't appear to bother Lawren Louli. “Don't tell me. More wives. Bet that one doesn't share.” A nod at Haxel, who might have been carved in stone after her quick assessing scan of their surroundings.
Enris ignored the obscure comment.
What do you think you're doing here?
he sent to Worin, with a lash of
worried anger.
Though he paled, the younger Mendolar stood his ground. He lifted the small crate he carried against his chest.
They needed me to 'port this.
So Haxel could have free hands and Naryn look impressive.
Despite the fear that things could spiral out of control, Enris took a deep breath and gestured approval. It wasn't Worin's fault. “Lawren Louli. This is Naryn di S'udlaat, Haxel di Vendan, and Worin di Mendolar.”
Naryn did, he had to admit, impress. She'd taken the time to don her white Councillor's robe, and her dark red hair fell in a magnificent cloak over her shoulders and back, loose but under control. Haxel, as always, had hers tightly netted. As well Gurdo hadn't seen her longknife.
Though doubtless she'd want one of the force blades, too, once Aryl showed her.
Louli's eyes were fixed on the crate. “This the sample? What's inside? Let's see.”
Your turn,
Enris sent to Naryn, rising from his seat and giving her a small bow.
This Human claims to know of a suitable home for us. If we have something of value to trade.
He hoped so, for all their sakes.
At a gesture from Naryn, Worin put the crate gently on the table and stepped back.
Louli rose to her feet as Naryn first pressed a finger to one corner, then tapped the remaining top corners in a specific pattern. The lid began to rise.
Enris held his breath.
Which was when Worin pointed to the floor below. “What's Aryl doing?”
Chapter 3

T
HEY SHOULD MAKE THE DOORS your size,” Aryl commented as Gurdo tilted its massive back, waved its claws vigorously in the air, and somehow maneuvered its bulk through the opening. The spectacle did clear a more than adequate amount of floor space, since anyone who'd been in the way moved quickly elsewhere. Spilling a few drinks.
A clawtip pointed up. “Lower layers support the upper; lower buildings support those above. Wide doors make the old-timers nervous.” That rain on metal sound. “Louli prefers I make them nervous,” it boasted.
Aryl carefully didn't smile, though Gurdo, despite its formidable natural weapons and loud voice, seemed more a threat to unwary toes and elbows than individuals. She glanced at the upper level. The window walls worked in Louli's favor. Where Enris sat with the Human was clouded from this side, allowing only blurred outlines to show. Her Chosen
felt
confident. He wasn't, she thought dourly, always right to do so. “I should have stayed there.”
“Come. Have a drink. Enjoy the show.” The Carasian dipped its head closer to hers. “That way you won't make me nervous.”
Astute being. Aryl made a “lead on” gesture. The stage, as they'd called it, was still empty. No one crowded them—crowded Gurdo, to be exact—but the rest of
Doc's Dive
offered no room to squeeze between anyone.
Or peace. Between their shouted voices and the heavy thumping—with occasional shrieks of song—that made shouts necessary, Aryl could barely hear her own thoughts. “Do Humans enjoy this noise?”
She decided the dip of head dome to either shoulder was the Carasian version of a shrug. “They don't have a choice,” it rumbled. “When the musicians tried to keep their tips, Louli had a 'bot band installed. A used one. Only plays like that. Smokeheads tell me it's beautiful music, but they chew the ends of their fingers to pulp, so I don't trust their taste. The smart ones wear plugs in their ears. It's better when the show's on.”
Probably no quieter, Aryl thought resignedly.
Are you sure you don't need me there, Enris?
I'm sure.
He sounded distracted but hopeful.
Enjoy yourself and don't attract attention.
Aryl buried her reaction to that highly unnecessary bit of advice behind shields.
I'll blend in,
she promised.
She took his tinge of
disbelief
as a dare.
“When's the show?” Aryl asked Gurdo. Whatever it was.
“Now!” the Carasian bellowed unnecessarily.
White smoke billowed out from the stage edges and spilled overtop. It gave the illusion that the figures who suddenly appeared on the stage—to raucous shouts Aryl presumed indicated cheerful anticipation and not the blood lust of the pox pit, though the sound and facial expressions were quite similar—that those figures had 'ported there.
Except the swirling smoke around their feet made it obvious they'd come up on lifts.
The “music” changed at the same time, to something as loud, but more complex, almost pleasant.
A clawtip pointed to the curved counter. She understood. It had to get to work. There were stools there. An easy step from any of those, a leap, and she'd be at the door to Gurdo's room and the stairs to Enris. Satisfied, Aryl nodded and followed the Carasian as it lumbered its way through the milling crowd.
Not that there was a free stool until Gurdo snapped a claw and two scrawny Humans jumped off theirs and disappeared into the shadow and smoke. Aryl didn't bother trying to shout her thanks. Instead, she rapped her knuckles on the nearest part of the huge being, then took her seat.
About to turn to watch the stage, Aryl realized one of the many-armed servers behind the counter was asking her a question. “Yes?” she shouted.
The server's mouth moved again. Aryl cupped her hand behind one ear and shrugged helplessly. Obviously used to coping with the din, three hands appeared with empty containers of different shapes.
It meant a drink, but what? Aryl looked at her neighbors. The most popular beverage had an alarming plume of dirty yellow smoke; those drinking it used a long spoon to approach from the side.
“Let me,” said a friendly male voice in her ear. “Two Pink Riders, Yirs.”
“Coming up, KaeCee.”
This KaeCee was tall for a Human. Aryl studied him warily as he took the stool beside hers. He smiled and seemed harmless. Seemed. “Thank you,” she said politely, when the drinks arrived and he passed one to her. It didn't look daunting. A layer of pink froth over a green liquid. Fruit had been impaled on the stick rising from it, fruit cut in the shape of an implausibly endowed male. She glanced at her new companion to see where to start.
He pulled the stick and fruit from his drink and tossed it on the counter, then leaned closer. “Louli tells them to reuse the garnish.”
Whatever that meant. Aryl dutifully tossed hers aside with some regret. Enris wasn't the only one to feel hungry. She sipped the froth, then gave KaeCee an appreciative smile. The pleasant taste included an interesting warmth down her throat. “This is good.”
“Better than the floor show, that's for sure.”
The figures on the stage? Aryl watched for a moment, non plussed when all they did was sway in time to the music and shed their clothes. The fruit on a stick had been not only implausible in size, she noted, but the wrong shape. “Much better,” she agreed, and turned away again.
“Personally, I'm more interested in beautiful strangers than dancing boys.” He edged closer on his stool. “I'm KaeCee. Tell me all about yourself.”
Aryl, busy taking another sip, glanced up in surprise. “No.”
“Beautiful and mysterious.” The Human licked pink froth from the hairs above his narrow mouth. All of his features were narrow, as was he. The hair on his head, an improbable blue, curled to his shoulders. When he ran one hand through it, Aryl noticed his fingernails were the same color. “Play nice,” he urged. “You know my name. What's yours?”
Aryl put down the drink and frowned. “Go away.”
Perhaps he couldn't hear her over the music, for he didn't move. Instead, his eyes traveled over her. “You have the most remarkable hair. And that net you wear. Old. A family heirloom? I've never seen work like that. Where did you get it?”
About to repeat her warning, much louder, Aryl hesitated. “From home . . .” she answered, losing whatever else she might have said. “Before we left.” On impulse, she lifted her arm and showed him her bracelet. “This, too.”
“Nice work. But new,” in a dismissive tone. “My specialty is the ancient. The rare. Rare like you.” The Human reached for her hair. “What is it about you?” he asked, his voice gone strange, his eyes not quite focused. “There's something . . .”
Don't attract attention. Blend in. Which precluded slapping his hand away, she decided reluctantly. Her hair promptly retreated, twisting itself into an uncomfortably tight knot at the back of her neck.
Encouraging that unwelcome hand to pursue.
Hair wasn't, Aryl realized, particularly clever. She slid off the stool and away from the hand before it touched. “I'll be leaving,” she said firmly and did.
“Don't go!”
Aryl joined the others pushing their way into the crowd around the stage.
KaeCee, undeterred, followed.
Aryl?
Remind me to tell you how well I blended,
Aryl sent, not holding back a snip of
outrage.
Which wasn't all because she was forced to run away. There was being surrounded by too many Humans, everyone with sloshing drinks and foul breath. There was breathing smoke and enduring brain-numbing noise.
Not to mention the floor was sticky.
Without warning, Aryl found herself pressed against the side of the stage by the crowd. She looked up naked legs and other parts to find herself staring into golden eyes the size of her fist.
“You!” she shouted.
“Wait!” KaeCee cried from behind.
There were times no action would end well. Aryl stared up at her quarry, quivering with the desire to leap on the stage and grab it, knowing she shouldn't. It, meanwhile, began a graceful gyration to the left, traveling away from her as quickly as it could given the lack of space between its fellows and their lack of cooperation getting out of its way.
Unfortunately, not moving gave the persistent Human all the time he needed to catch up and breathe down her neck. Aryl dug a discreet elbow sharply into his ribs. As he gasped, she took advantage of a gap between tables to go left herself, keeping the golden-eyed creature in sight.
Only wise, she told herself, to keep all options available.
A sweaty hand gripped her arm. Shields tight, proud of her restraint, Aryl glared into his flushed face and said very clearly, “I will break your wrist.”
KaeCee let go, but didn't retreat. “If you want the
Aala
, I'll hire him for the night. Just come back with me.”
Aala. The golden-eyed creature had a name. Was male.
Night? How could she know for sure, down here?
How could she believe anything this Human told her? Aryl forced the edge from her voice. “I don't need him all night. I need him to show me how to reach the top layer of this city.” To free her people. To take them to the sun and sky. She hadn't realized the urgency of that need until now. Her breath caught. “Can you arrange it?”
This produced a beaming smile. Two of his teeth, she noticed, had been inlaid with tiny stones. “My dear beauty. I can do better. You don't need him. I can take you.”
“You know the way?”
“Of course. You don't think I live here, do you?” He paused as if waiting for a reply, then continued more quickly. “My offices are in the Sun Layer itself. I come down occasionally. For the scenery.” With a move closer.

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