Stitching Snow Read Online Free PDF Page B

breath spilling over me . . .
    A shout ripped through my throat, and I thrust my head back, banging it into his eye. His grip loosened, and I slipped free. I embraced the rage and went at him with a knee to the groin. His elbow slammed into my gut, knocking the wind from me. The next swing clipped the side of my head when I didn’t move quickly enough, and the world spun.
    Moray’s fi st impacted my ribs, right on the bruise from the last fi ght. I gasped and staggered away, trying to stay clear. A whooping roar fi lled my ears. This was much better entertainment than the Thacker fi ght.
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    “Yeh’ve got her, Moray!”
    “Yeah, show her what yeh’re made of!”
    “We’ll get our shares back from her now!”
    “Take that animal down, Essie!”
    Dane’s voice cut through the others. Calling attention to himself in that crowd was several sniffs from smart.
    “Found yerself a pet, I see,” Moray sneered. “Does he roll over when yeh tell him?”
    I never wasted time with words midfi ght. When Moray opened his mouth to continue taunting me, I punched him in the trachea. Not hard enough—only a glancing blow. He tried to counterattack, but I twisted him around into an armlock. A little more pressure and something cracked or popped. I danced with him as he tried to maneuver his free arm to grab me and kicked the side of his knee. He went down, and I pinned him.
    “Stay down, Moray,” I said, “because this is the nicest you’ll ever get from me.”
    Petey called the count and declared me the winner amidst the boos. I got out of the cage and crossed to the washroom quick as I could, but Dane still managed to trail after me.
    “You’re hurt.”
    “A little banged up is all.”
    “Bleeding is not ‘banged up.’”
    “What? Where am I bleeding this time?” I checked the mirror. A ribbon of blood trickled down my temple where Moray had clipped me. “That? I’m fi ne.”
    He stared at me, caught on something. “How often do you do these fi ghts?”
    “Once or twice a week, mostly.”
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    “That’s beyond madness. Look at you—you can’t even stand straight.”
    The compounded bruise on my ribs ached every time I breathed, so he had a point. His concern put me on edge, though.
    He didn’t know me. He had even less right than Petey to lecture me.
    “Nothing I can’t handle,” I said, pushing him back out of the washroom.
    He opened his mouth to continue his protests.
    I slammed the door in his face.
    By the time I patched myself up and calmed down, I realized leaving Dane among the miners hadn’t been too sharp. The lack of noise hit me as I left the washroom. The men who weren’t too drunk to stand had already stumbled home. Maybe I’d been in there longer than I realized.
    “How’s the take, Petey?” I asked, sliding onto a barstool.
    “Solid. Most were confi dent Moray would fi nish yeh, knowin’ how eager he was and that yeh had no rest from the last one. They’re none too happy with yeh right now.”
    “They’ll get over it.”
    “If yeh say so.” He worked the MineNet terminal and nodded. “That’s fi ve-seventy-one over to yeh.” I ran the numbers in my head. That’d be enough to fi x the shuttle without leaving me broke. “Good, I need to place an order.”
    He spun the terminal display to face me and watched as I 34

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    punched in a list of replacement parts. Not quite Garamite stock, but Ticktock seemed to think they’d get it done.
    “Why’re yeh helping that strange boy, Essie? We got him out of his ship still breathin’, but we’ve got no obligation to him beyond that.”
    “And you had no obligation to me when I arrived.”
    “Is that how it is? A scrawny, half-starved child yeh were, but the sharpest mind I’ve seen. Helpin’ yeh was a sound invest-ment. That boy looks like he can take care of himself, and what has he to offer for yer trouble?”
    A small step toward making my mother proud, maybe, but