Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Mage'smanrauq- blast? Sometimes it came back, like the memory-residue of a hallucinogen taken years before; usually in moments of strong emotion. "I'm here, kh'eeredo." "Someone left me this note, pinned on the tent." She translated in a whisper, looking up as the firelight painted the planes of Shkai'ra's face, trying to be calm. "Somehow I don't think he wants to talk about the new taxes in Brahvniki." Shkai'ra's face didn't change. "Probably not," she said drily. "So, we'll have a little diversion. Glitch visits again… Oh, well. This war was getting too easy anyway." A smile forced itself onto Megan's lips."You obviously haven't been sacrificing enough sheep." Shkai'ra shrugged. "So. You get all the information you can from this…gentleman , and we go from there." Megan didn't answer immediately, listening to the fire crackle, the sound of a lap-harp drifting from the next campfire over. "Would you…" She hesitated. "I'm feeling very cowardly about this." She flipped a hand, almost casually, claws flashing. "I feel as if I shouldn't be able to move this easily. It's almost obscene being this tied but free at the same time." She sighed, looking down at her spread fingers. "I'm not explaining this very well." Shkai'ra's arms closed around her, pulled her in close. Megan resisted for a heartbeat, then let herself be drawn in. "I didn't get where I am by panicking," the Zak said quietly into Shkai'ra's shoulder. "We've been in worse scrapes, love. Remember the alligators? To be eaten in such small bites…" The Kommanza rubbed a knuckle along Megan's cheekbone. "I know. I'll do what I have to." She looked up. "Careful: People will stop calling you a barbarian if you get this soft." Shkai'ra chuckled. "But I am a barbarian—to anyone who deserves that shit." Megan nodded. "So, I can't tear this pig-sucker into shreds…yet ." It's you I smell, she thought,not the latrine . A tricky place for a clandestine meeting; no one would expect anyone to meet there. The copse was just far enough away from the privy itself to quietly talk without its many users hearing. Beeches, smooth-trunked with even branches; good climbing trees. She looked up, but saw no telltale dark shape. Wind pattered the leaves. "As scheduled," a precise male voice said quietly, from low, in Arkan.The accent … Aitzas?Hardly, doing this work. He's faking it. Unless he's Mahid . The robed figure had been sitting in the underbrush; now it rose, and leaned casually against a trunk. "You know, you're one person who is unmistakable, even in silhouette. Who else so short, with those curves… Well, never mind, we have business." No. Not Mahid. They don't have a sense of humor. "I prefer to deal in Enchian," Megan said, in that language. "A more suitable tongue for business of any sort."His face is in shadow, even if the moon came out clearer I wouldn't see it, here. He made sure of that. If I got truth-drugged again …
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "Indulge me, don't insult my nationality," the man said, still in Arkan, the inflection superior-to-inferior. The voice didn't even take on an edge. "I considered sending you one of the boy's fingers, but forbore, thinking you a subtle enough person that such brutality was unnecessary. Am I wrong? Are we communicating?" "Quite," Megan said in Arkan, equal-to-equal. "And quite useless, since the last time I saw one of my son's fingers was eight years ago." "Are you a fool? You couldn't know for sure itwasn't his. Not until you saw him again at any rate. Which is my intent." The more I get him to say, the better chance I'll have of getting some scrap of information I can use. She took a step closer, sensed him tensing. "Having a poison tooth is one thing," she said. "Using it is quite another. I'm not sure you sound brave enough to do it." "Eternal ecstasy in Celestialis receives the agent who gives himself in the moment he must," the voice answered without hesitation or apparent fear. "Eternal smothering in Hayel takes the one who fails to. Which wouldyou choose?" "You don't sound like a fanatic to me." "Part pragmatic, part fanatic, that's what I've had to learn to be. Though I must admit nothing could impel me to be brave enough to do it more than the suggestion that I'm not… perhaps I'm not. And yet I might be. Rather a great uncertainty, I think, on which to stake the life of the only child you'll ever have, hmm?" "Indeed."I can't risk it. He's right. It's too much. You pig-sucker. You corpse-spawn … She bit down on her rage, a teacher's voice echoing from a classroom in her memory:Your emotions are cards to play, in negotiation; don't show your hand . She forced calm out into trembling limbs. "Not to be crass," she said. "But such a favor often calls for recompense, usually of similar worth." "So crass… as usual with those who follow the merchant's profession." She detected a relaxing; natural, whether he had a poison tooth or not. "Actually, it's quite a bargain I offer you. How can it not be? Is there anything as important to you as your son's life? And freedom? I understand not… so how can it but be a sweet deal for you? You understand I offer not just his life but his freedom, and his delivery to yourself, too. It's all arranged, waiting only for a certain action from you." "A certain action? Perhaps you'd deign to be more precise." "You've been snippy," the Arkan said, a smile audible in his voice. "And got me in a contrary mood. Guess ." Megan clenched her teeth. "Who do you want me to kill? There's no one I'm close to, I can think of, who Arko would want dead. Or is it just information?" A quiet snicker cut the night air. "Perceptive… at least at first. You don't have and can't easily get information. But you have those claws, and those skills. And that determination; I've heard Megan Whitlock always finds a way." "I'm out of practice murdering," she said, pretending boredom.
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people around for camouflage, and t
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Und now I vind dose two—Celestial
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