Soothsayer Read Online Free PDF

Merlin the Magician, right?"
    "Merlin the Magnificent,” the magician corrected him. “And this is my assistant,” he added, gesturing toward the mouse.
    "I'm pleased to meet you,” said the tall man, smiling at her.
    "Where was it that you saw me perform?” asked Merlin.
    "Oh, I never saw you perform,” said MacLemore. “Magic doesn't interest me much."
    "I must have misunderstood you,” replied Merlin. “I thought you said you had seen me."
    "I said I knew who you were,” said MacLemore. “That's not the same thing at all.” He paused. “Anyway, I'd like to buy you a beer, and maybe do a little business with you."
    "What are you selling?” asked the Mouse, surreptitiously withdrawing her knife from her boot, but keeping her hands beneath the table.
    MacLemore smiled. “I'm not selling anything, ma'am. Selling's not my business."
    "All right,” she said coldly. “What are you buying?"
    The smile remained in place. “Well, truth to tell, buying's not my business either."
    "Just what is your business?"
    "Oh, a little of this and a little of that.” He turned to Merlin. “You were on Westerly a couple of days ago, weren't you?"
    "What concern is that of yours?” demanded Merlin.
    "Where you go makes no difference to me,” said MacLemore. “Westerly's as good a world as any, and probably better than most.” Suddenly he leaned forward, staring intently at the magician. “But while you were there, you took something that didn't belong to you.” He paused briefly. “And that's my business."
    "I don't know what you're talking about,” said Merlin.
    "Oh, I think you do,” replied MacLemore. “I'm talking about something you took from an alien's room."
    "I'm a magician, not a thief,” said Merlin. He paused and returned MacLemore's stare. “But just out of curiosity, how much is this missing object worth?"
    "I think you know, or you wouldn't have taken it."
    "I didn't take anything."
    "I thought we were talking business,” said MacLemore. “And here you go, insulting my intelligence. It's enough to make a man take offense.” He smiled again, a smile that started and ended with his lips. His eyes remained cold and hard.
    "I assure you that no offense was intended,” said Merlin. “As for talking business,” he continued carefully, “I haven't heard any offers yet."
    "You're still alive,” said MacLemore. “That's not necessarily a permanent condition."
    Merlin looked more annoyed than frightened. “I've been threatened by experts.” He reached into the air, snapped his fingers, and suddenly he was holding a small laser pistol that was aimed between the tall man's eyes.
    "That's very good,” admitted MacLemore. “Maybe I ought to take more of an interest in magic."
    "Maybe you ought to take less of an interest in other people's affairs,” said Merlin.
    "You might as well deal with me,” said MacLemore. “You're going to have to deal with someone before you leave the planet."
    "Nobody else knows we're here."
    MacLemore chuckled in amusement. “How do you think I knew it—or do you think I live on this dirtball?” He turned to the Mouse. “You're going to run into a lot of people who aren't as friendly and reasonable as I am, ma'am. Maybe you'd better tell your friend to deal with me while he can."
    "I still haven't heard any offers,” said Merlin. “Either tell me what you're after and how much you're willing to pay for it, or go bother someone else."
    "I've already made you a handsome offer: you get to live."
    "You seem to forget who's holding the gun."
    MacLemore shrugged. “It's not the kind of thing I'm likely to forget,” he replied easily. “Hell, everyone in this tavern knows you're pointing a laser pistol at me.” Suddenly he smiled. “But you don't know which two of them are my partners."
    "Mouse?” said Merlin, never taking his eyes from MacLemore. “Any suggestions?"
    "He doesn't have any partners,” said the Mouse coldly. “Men like him always work alone."
    "My