Queen of Stars Read Online Free PDF Page B

dangling from his mouth.
    “What domain is this, mudling?”
    “Alathfar, noble halfling.”
    “Who owns it?”
    “The mistress, noble halfling,” the man said blankly.
    “What’s her name?”
    “It is forgotten. The old ones—”
    “What’s your name?”
    “Chief Tracker, noble halfling.”
    “And who ordered you and your companions to parade around naked, Chief Tracker?”
    Horrified pause.
    Rigel said, “Saiph!” and the sword appeared to do his bidding. “I killed a minotaur with this. I have also killed a sphinx, a cockatrice, and several halflings. You think I would hesitate to—”
    “A noble lady, halfling.”
    “Where is she?”
    “At the station, may it please the halfling.”
    “You will lead us to her at once.” Rigel waited a moment to see if there would be argument, and there wasn’t. “The rest of you can stop eating now, but you are to stay there, on your knees, until the sun has set. Then you can go home. Understand? Lead on, Chief Tracker.”

     
    As soon as the trees gave way to open grass again, Avior moved up to walk alongside Rigel. Izar was out in front, keeping an eye on the unhappy guide, and occasionally chivvying him along with a stick. She noted that Rigel’s expression was bleak, so perhaps he wasn’t truly ruthless after all.
    “Was that necessary?” she demanded.
    “They were armed and terrified. I doubt they would deliberately harm us, even under orders, but there might have been an accident.” He sighed. “I know, I didn’t warn you that there were humans in the Starlands. There are millions, maybe billions, of them. They’re field workers, servants, drudges…They’re supposed to go around fully dressed to hide their non-starfolk deformities, and I’ve never seen any of them completely naked like that. I expect this tribe has been set up as part of the game park scenery to amuse starfolk visitors. Elves never die, so boredom is their biggest problem.”
    “They massacre ‘natives’ for sport?”
    He pulled a face. “I don’t think it would go that far. Mudlings are property and too valuable to slaughter out of hand. The point is, I’ve never heard even a rumor of a mudling threatening an elf or a halfling. This lady, whoever she is, is going to have to answer some sharp royal questions about giving her serfs weapons.”
    “They’re slaves!” Avior said furiously.
    “Not quite. Do you know the difference between wolves and dogs?”
    “Of course!”
    “Well, just like dogs are domesticated wolves, mudlings are domesticated earthlings. Their ancestors were brought here tens of thousands of years ago to serve the starfolk, and all the pep has been bred out of them. While wolves were skulking around our ancestors’ campfires waiting for scraps, mudlings’ forebears were learning not to anger their elfin masters. Slow learners died or were neutered. Now, like dogs, mudlings live only to please. They’re not very smart and they’re never aggressive.”
    Izar had certainly been aggressive enough, and Rigel had encouraged him.
    “Why did Izar call himself Naos?”
    “Because he is a Naos. That rainbow sheen on his hair is the mark of Naos. By the time he’s adult—that won’t happen until he’s forty-one, by the way; starfolk take the time to enjoy childhood properly—it will be fully opalescent, and he’ll be designated a prince. The mark means he’s developing a special form of magic, also called Naos, which the ruler of the Starlands needs in order to keep them from vanishing into the void. So one day Izar may even be king. Naos runs in families, but not predictably, and it also crops up at random. You smell wood smoke?”
    After a few more minutes, they spotted the source, a village of wattle huts. Chief Tracker gave it a wide berth, while women and children watched from a safe distance. A couple of dogs barked and were quickly hushed. Dusk was falling.
    “Theme park!”
    “Exactly. But it’s probably thousands of years older than