The Price of the Stars: Book One of Mageworlds Read Online Free PDF Page B

trying to talk yourself into a piloting job?”
    “Who, me?” Ari contrived to look innocent. “I wouldn’t think of spoiling your fun.”
    But to himself, he had to admit that Jessan’s comment had the ring of truth. The Khesatan was a good pilot, one of the Med Station’s best, but Ari was better. Flying, after all, was in his blood. His crazy sister Beka—wherever she was right now—might be better at deep-space piloting, but she’d never cared much for working with the smaller atmospheric craft.
    Her loss , thought Ari. Flying’s not really flying if gravity doesn’t have a chance to get you when you’re careless.
    The aircar flew on. Soon a raised concrete strip came into view on the ground below, and Ari abandoned his private thoughts in favor of checking the chart screen.
    “That’s our posit, all right,” he said to Jessan. “Looks like a farmer’s landing pad.”
    “I bet somebody stuck his hand in a seed hopper again,” replied Jessan absently. Already, the descent was taking most of the Khesatan’s attention. The low-altitude winds appeared determined to push the craft off its approach and land it in the thick, soupy mud surrounding the pad. At last the aircar came to a halt on the concrete surface, and Jessan let out a satisfied sigh. “So far, so good. Now, where do we go from here?”
    “Where” turned out to be a nearby line shack, a windowless prefab structure crowded with farm equipment and sacks of seed grain. A pocket glow-cube, set high up on a metal shelf, cast a pitiless white light down onto the floor where a human lay beneath a pile of blankets, sweating and shivering both at once. A hulking, grey-scaled being crouched beside the pallet. The creature rose to its feet as Air and Jessan walked in.
    Just my luck , thought Ari. We’re dealing with a Selvaur . The saurian—a male, from the crest of green scales rising off his domed skull—stood as tall as Ari himself, and bared a predator’s fangs at the two medics. The voice that came from his chest was a deep rumble, speaking not in Galcenian but in a growling, inhuman tongue.
    *About time you guys showed up.*
    “Sorry,” said Jessan, as he went down on one knee beside the man on the pallet. “We came as fast as we could.”
    Most humans on Nammerin had picked up the trick of “hearing” the Selvauran language, since there were almost as many of the big saurians on Nammerin as on the creatures’ home world of Maraghai. Actually speaking the seemingly wordless, rumbling language was another matter—few humans had either the patience or the vocal range to manage the task.
    *Sorry’s not the word,* the Selvaur growled in reply to Jessan’s apology. *This human is my sworn brother. If he dies, you die.*
    “I’ll keep that in mind,” said Jessan, without looking up. He’d already opened the medikit from the aircar, and was working over the ailing man. “Talk some sense into him, will you, Ari?”
    “My pleasure,” Ari said. He stepped past the kneeling Jessan to stand in front of the Selvaur. This close, their eyes were on a level. Ari took a deep breath and pushed his voice down to the bottom of its range. *If this man dies, it’s the will of the Forest, and not the work of anyone here.*
    The Selvaur’s vertical pupils dilated for a moment in surprise. Then the big saurian recovered his composure. *Who taught you to speak like a Forest Lord, thin-skin?*
    *Ferrdacorr son of Rrillikkik taught me the Forest Speech,* Ari said. *He fostered me among his own younglings in the High Ridges, and brought me into his family as a son.*
    Again, startlement showed briefly in the Selvaur’s yellow eyes. It wasn’t unknown for a Selvaur and a human to swear blood-brotherhood, but formal adoption was almost unheard of. *Have you gone on the Long Hunt, then, and made your Kill?*
    Ari thought of the white scars along his back and ribs, and the double row of white puncture marks in the flesh of his left arm—only part of the price