The Way of the Black Beast by Stuart Jaffe Read Free Book Online

she could say goodbye.
    Besides, she thought, eyeing the young man doling out drinks, I don't want to leave just yet.
    A rapid-fire giggle soared over the general party noise, and Malja's eyes spotted a young gal being wooed by one of the rescued prisoners. She searched for the others and spotted them standing near the musicians. That suited her fine. It was interesting, maybe even pleasant, to see everyone so happy, but she didn't want to be forced into an awkward bout of praise from those individuals.
    "We certainly owe you a big thanks," Pressig said as he approached Malja. He offered her a cup of the drink which she took without a word. It tasted sour, but the alcohol kick more than made up for its lack of flavor. "Oh, and don't worry about the ex-Mayor Fawbry," he went on. "He's tied to a chair in the Wilk's house. He won't go anywhere."
    "I'm just glad nobody died."
    "A couple broken bones and plenty of bruises is all. Thank you for everything."
    Malja took another swig of her drink and put her mouth to Pressig's ear. Quiet and cold, she spoke. "You were lucky. You ever send these people into a fight like that again, you'll have nothing but corpses to celebrate with." Pressig tried to pull away, but Malja clamped down on his hand. "And if I ever hear that you let such a thing happen, especially because we both know you did this for politics, I'll hunt you down."
    She released his hand but locked eyes with him until she saw the shock fade into resignation. She had no delusions that her threat would protect Noogruff from Pressig's ambitions for too long, but he would be cautious for a while. He left his cup behind when he made his exit.
    Malja looked about for the handsome man who had supplied the alcohol. Before she could find him, a loud warbling emitted from the trees coupled with a buzzing, electric crackle. The music stopped as all eyes turned toward the forest.
    From the shadows emerged a dirt-spackled, flatbed flyer loaded with salvaged items and things brought from far away. Each corner of the roofless vehicle had a cylinder blazing electric energy that kept it floating on air. At the front sat the magician who supplied the electricity and a filigoto driving.
    The filigoto waved his stumpy hand as he brought the vehicle to the ground. He was short, wide, and bald with no neck to speak of. Another mutated version of humans, the filigoto had no homeland other than whatever they traveled in. They became traders by necessity.
    "Good evening, all. I'm Weyargo. Here to trade," he said with his melodic, lilting voice.
    Many townspeople encircled his flatbed to see what he had brought. Malja knew a few filigoto. They were fine enough creatures. Never bothered her much. And they often brought tales from other countries.
    "Corlin," most would say, "is the only place to be. The others are empty of everything. Towns are so far apart, and there are so few people."
    Indeed, Malja heard Weyargo speaking a similar line to his new customers. He probably praised whatever country he was in. "It's what I've always told those from other lands. You must come to Corlin. It seems most of the people in the world live in this wonderful country. Now, ma'am, doesn't that look lovely? I'll make a fair deal with you."
    While Weyargo made one fair deal after another, his magician rested. Malja watched that one closely. Just in case. He twitched a few times and seemed unsure of his surroundings, but all went well.
    The townspeople were so high on their success that they bought more than they should — fabrics and spices from Penmorvia to the north, shovels and hoes from Corlin towns to the east, and more alcohol from wherever (no one cared). When the last purchase had been made, Weyargo blew kisses to the people as he climbed into the driver's seat. "Thank you all," he said. "Enjoy your new things, and I promise to stop by when I come back this way later in the year. May Korstra and Kryssta smile upon you all."
    The magician concentrated on his