The Price of the Stars: Book One of Mageworlds by Debra Doyle, James D. MacDonald Read Free Book Online

insults worse than some—Ferrdacorr would have knocked Ari across the room for showing such bad manners, and Munngralla might try yet.
    But Ari stood tall enough in his spaceboots to meet Munngralla’s bad-tempered glare straight on, and at a guess had a handspan more breadth in the shoulders. He hooked his thumbs into his belt, braced his feet, and held the predatory grin.
    “I rang,” he said. “I have some business to discuss.”
    *It’s all for sale,* said Munngralla.
    Ari’s lip curled. “I don’t need a pugil stick today, thank you. And as for the Entiboran paperweights—there’s enough of them floating around the galaxy to build a whole new planet. Someday, though, you’re going to get a real Entiboran in here, and he’s going to wreck the place for you.”
    *Ask me if I’m worried,* said Munngralla. *Do I look worried?*
    “Do I look like a Security Officer?” countered Ari. Then, switching languages again: *Do I sound like a Security officer?*
    The Selvaur narrowed his eyes at him. *Talk is cheap, thin-skin. Can a Forest Lord or a Brother vouch for you?*
    *Ferrdacorr son of Rrillikkik,* said Ari. *He hunts the South Continent High Ridges these days, but he went after other prey during the great war against the Mageworlds. *
    *Ahh,* said the Selvaur. *That Ferrdacorr. If he answers for you, we shouldn’t have any trouble doing business. *
    “I’m glad to hear it,” said Ari, in Galcenian again. “The Forest Speech isn’t for thin-skinned throats.”
    *That’s true,* agreed Munngralla. *Now, which will you have—a service, or merchandise?*
    “Tholovine,” said Ari. “In quantity, in a hurry.”
    *If you’re after chemical weapons, I carry some already made up,* said the Selvaur. *No need to risk synthesizing your own.*
    Ari bared his teeth—in real anger, this time. “If I ever need to hurt someone that badly, I’ll beat him to death with my bare hands,” he said. “It’s just as quick and whole lot cleaner.”
    *Suit yourself,* said Munngralla. *How do you want your tholovine—powder, elixir, or pressurized spray?*
    “Pure brick. Hospital grade.”
    *Who’s paying?*
    “Me,” said Ari. “Come on, even an unblooded youngling knows better than to ask that. I’m good for the money.”
    Munngralla looked at him a moment. *Will Ferrdacorr pay if you default?*
    Ari nodded, and dropped again into the Forest Speech. *I’m family. He’ll pay.*
    Munngralla extended a scaly hand—another human gesture. *Then we have a deal. I can have the first delivery for you by midnight tonight.*
    “What’s the price?”
    *Eight hundred credits the brick.*
    Ari pulled his own hand back. “No deal. The stuff’s not illegal; just hard to get. Five hundred, or I go someplace else to do business.”
    *Seven hundred.*
    “Six.”
    *Six-fifty—take it or see where going someplace else gets you on this planet.* “Six-fifty,” agreed Ari, and this time he didn’t pull away from Mungralla’s grip. “We have a deal.”
    *Be here at midnight,* the Selvaur reminded him. *And bring cash.*
    “I’ll be here,” said Ari; and then—because Ferrdacorr had taught him courteous behavior—added in Selvauran, *Good hunting. *
    Munngralla gave him a growled *Good hunting* in reply, but Ari was already halfway to the door. It swung open as he came near, and Ari had to retreat into the rack of pugil sticks to miss knocking over the Selvaur’s next customer. The man glared up at him in passing.
    “Sorry,” said Ari, with a shrug. “I couldn’t see the door through all those boxes of rock.”
    The man glared harder, and Ari braced himself for an unpleasant scene. But the stranger never made whatever retort he’d been planning to deliver. Instead, the pupils of his eyes dilated, his mouth snapped shut, and he ducked past Ari without a word.
    Fear? wondered Ari. But he didn’t think so—that hadn’t been the look of someone who’d managed to lose his temper first and notice the other man’s size