Shaman by Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff Read Free Book Online Page A

right. My intuition says not, but—” He shrugged. “Even if this Eldest feels personally more comfortable negotiating with another male, he’ll be more respectful of a female. Maybe even a little in awe of her.”
    â€œAh. Six of one, half-dozen of the other. I could be an advantage or a break-even... or a disadvantage.”
    â€œI doubt that. For one thing you’re older than Zarber’s assistant.”
    Danetta grimaced. “You had to remind me.”
    â€œNo, no. I mean, that’s a real advantage. An older Chief is a more experienced Chief—a more colorful Chief. That’s why the oldest Clan Chieftain is automatically made the Tribal leader.”
    â€œCan they tell an older Human from a younger one?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    Danetta turned back to observe the subjects under discussion. “Okay. Let’s see how I do with the great Chief,” she said, and waited for a break in the conversation between Chieftain and charlatan.
    She did fine, all things considered, but the Eldest seemed more threatened by the Tanaka CEO than he did awed by her. Since the Chieftain in line to take his position if his health failed was a middle-aged matron of the Lupao Clan, that was understandable. He was obviously more comfortable with the youth and inexperience of Zarber’s Chieflet. Rhys suspected it was because he could treat him with fatherly condescension.
    It didn’t help that Shaman Zarber dropped not-so-subtle hints throughout the feast that Rhys had somehow been responsible for his mishap earlier in the day. He implied that the rivalry between them was more than just simple competition over a contract (Rhys now knew the truth of that). His insinuations brought to Rhys’s mind a vivid picture of two ancient tribal Magi, slinging curses and lightning bolts at each other through all eternity. It was like something out of one of those holographic role-playing games that seemed to be the constant rage among teenagers.
    The Eldest seemed impressed with Zarber’s macabre little remarks, but Pa-Lili was openly disdainful. “This Shaman Tsar-Bar is a rude fellow,” she said, echoing Yoshi’s sentiments. “Such slithering accusations are beneath a Shaman’s breath. What sort of training did he receive? What feathers has he earned?”
    â€œWell, actually,” said Rhys, “he has, er, earned feathers in, ah, Business Thinking and the Speaking of Diplomacy.”
    â€œBusiness?” tooted Pa-Lili. “What does a Shaman have to do with business? A Shaman is a caretaker, a preserver. It is a shame my Eldest is so taken with their freshly hatched Chieftain. But the Old One loves those he can impress. Your Chief Tanaka is too impressive to be impressed... Perhaps you should lay a curse on this Shaman, since he seems to believe you already have.” She gave Rhys a hard look.
    He shook his head, making his crest of orange fingers bounce and wave. “I couldn’t do that.”
    â€œYou have the means,” she pressed, her gaze becoming conspiratorial.
    He wondered if he was being tested. “Perhaps I do, but it would be... a great sin.”
    Pa-Lili nodded. “True, it is not good to wish others ill. But it is an equally great sin to lie.” She looked pointedly at Zarber. “You had nothing to do with his toothlessness.”
    No , Rhys thought, I didn’t. But if an accident pulled one fang, I sure wish I could pull the other.
    o0o
    In his dreams, Rhys Llewellyn was Myrddin. Powerful he was, and ancient and hoary, with green-ice eyes and a great ground-sweeping beard. He was pitted against a sinister black-clad figure that was part Mordred, part Dracula, and preponderantly Vladimir Zarber.
    They hurled spells at each other. Zarber’s magics were flashes of ruddy fire that fell to the ground, sizzling, to become horrid black lumps of living ooze. They moved, rippled like dying slugs, and then began