Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...
Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...
Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...
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Generated <strong>by</strong> ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html<br />
"Orphanage not a good idea? Why?"<br />
He hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek. "I was already in one. They sold mehere ."<br />
Megan just blinked at him, feeling anger pop like a lava-bubble inside her.Isn't there one decent person<br />
in this whole maggot-ridden place ? "Well then, not an orphanage. Until things are settled down, we<br />
won't decide. You can be part of our household until then, all right?"<br />
The boy flung himself on his face, hugging her ankles. "Don't do that." She bent over, hauled; him up<br />
away from her, <strong>by</strong> the shoulders, careful not to claw. "You're not a slave. Don't grovel." Megan caught a<br />
glimpse of Sova's eyes, fixed on the boy with the mix of sympathy <strong>and</strong> irony, <strong>and</strong> knew she was thinking<br />
of a past moment, on a dais in Brahvniki, nearly two years ago.<br />
"What do you mean no one is allowed in to see him? He was wounded, you say; fine, don't friends visit<br />
the convalescent?"<br />
The Yeoli guard shifted, frowning down at Megan. "I'm sorrhy,kere ranya." Sister foreigner , that<br />
meant. They'd never called her that before. "Orders."<br />
"Let me speak to your superior." The guard called a squire from inside the building. She was at the first<br />
door off the main square, away from the main steps of the Marble Palace <strong>and</strong> the three-story-high gates;<br />
the one wing of the University building whose tower she'd seen fall, was a long block behind her, still<br />
smoldering. The chestnuts <strong>and</strong> cherry trees along the Avenue of Statuary stood charred <strong>and</strong> withered.<br />
It was morning. The City had quieted down. Yeoli patrols stopped arsonists at least, <strong>and</strong> the looting had<br />
tailed off as the more obvious targets were stripped bare. She had seen plenty of troops camped here<br />
<strong>and</strong> there, mostly sodden-drunk or sleeping it off; the better-organized units were busy. Here, a Schvait<br />
wagon-train, heaped with bulgy loads under businesslike tarpaulins; there, Hyerne kicking burdened<br />
prisoners along to add to an enormous heap of fabrics <strong>and</strong> weapons <strong>and</strong> chests <strong>and</strong> whatnot, with<br />
Peyepallo st<strong>and</strong>ing on top of it dressed in an Imperial high-priest's robe, directing. There, a huge column<br />
of prisoners under Enchian guards, women <strong>and</strong> children mostly, ready to be hustled out of the City<br />
before the Yeolis collected their wits <strong>and</strong> remembered their emancipationist convictions.So where are<br />
you to save them, people-wills-one , Megan thought,who was going to make them your citizens ?<br />
She tapped her foot impatiently, looking the other way, along the wall. It was covered in carvings, from<br />
the base right up to the top, gilded around the Imperial speaking balcony. At the far end of the square<br />
there was a small public park, <strong>and</strong> where the wall turned away from the square an ornamental tower rose<br />
over the flowering bougainvillaea, the fist-sized cut crystal at its peak still catching the sun though the<br />
gilding on the roof was sooted. The smoke from the fires hung like eye-stinging fog, making it hard to see<br />
across the marblea square.<br />
A patter of feet, <strong>and</strong> the squire was back with a piece of paper which he passed to the guard. "Kere<br />
ranya, thesemanakraseye-lmperator is seeing no one," he rattled off. "Healers orders as per Emao-e<br />
Lazaila, signed, Estennunga Shae-Fiyara for Krero Saranyera, Guard Captain."<br />
Semanakraseye-lmperator; what a mouthful . It was odd, though; Chevenga's policy was not to let<br />
people in no matter now badly he was hurt—if he was conscious—one at the very least to carry his<br />
message to everyone else, in which case she should have heard it being announced. Dead? No; they'd<br />
announce that, <strong>and</strong> make Arko his funeral pyre. No announcements had come out of the Marble Palace