[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
below the surface glitter, not like Asteplikota, too much anger, too much
drive. It was hammering at her, made her increasingly uncomfortable. She
couldn t shut him out....
She must have gone pale because he, touched her shoul-der again, then strolled
away to talk to
Rohant, unde-terred by the big cats flanking the Qom, eyeing with lazy
insolence anyone who came near.
One of the men in the entourage looked up as he passed her, met her eyes. A
small man, dark, with a bony sardonic face. A familiar face and so it should
be, Aleytys spent a year in and out of his bed when she was still looking for
her mother and Shadith was still trapped in the diadem, concatenation
of a forcelines improbably alive.
Arel the Smuggler at it again. He won t be selling the kind of arms those
types want, not him, everything else though, whatever the hopeful rebel needs.
Hmm! Free to go, in and out, ferret down a hole, nose about, scat when he s
finished. I wonder ... No! I go near him, any of us try it .. no! I imagine he
still counts on his talent for sliding to stay loose, there ll be nothing on
his ship hot enough to light a match. It s fast, but Ginny s got the high
ground, and the firepower. Gods, yes, and the fire power. Tsoukbaraim! it d be
so good to pile in and run for it. I didn t run before when I had a
chance, maybe not much of a chance, but something ... it was probably a
mistake, I don t know, I don t know, I don t know....
Joran followed a pace behind as always, pointed ears twitching, quietly
lethal, not liking this crowd much, but he never did like crowds.
Joran. Fascinating to be a fly on the wall if he ever went after Puk the Lute.
I d bet the house on that old killer. Puk wouldn t know what hit him.
She d come across Arel and loran again when she was in her own body, the time
on Avosing while she was there hunting for Grey. They were nose to nose for a
few minutes at the Smuggler s Market in
Keama Dusta, Arel, Joran and her, but neither of the men should have reason to
remember her ... she rubbed at the hawk outline burned into her cheek ... out
there for everyone to see ... and remember ... a lot of people have odd marks
on them, she was just another customer passing by....
Unless he got hold of some rumors about what hap-pened later ... plenty of
talk about, me and Linfyar and the dreamsongs. And Aleytys....
Sar! the man did recognize her, he was going to stop.
Hastily she gave him a warn-off, a flutter of the fingers as she slid a zipper
open an inch and drew it shut again.
Did he get it? Riiight, way to go, little man. And so he should, seeing it s
him who taught these signs to Lee and me though he sure didn t know about me
those days, I wasn t very visible on the scene ... gods, not like now, not
when I need a little invisibil-ity. He wouldn t break his schedule for her,
but he was REALLY hooked on Aleytys. Aren t they all, the men littering her
backtrail. Grey, Swar.... Come on, Shadow, no time for that. If I play this
right ... screw Ginnyl I foxed that creep guard, ru fox him, too. Right. He s
signing now.
Page 99
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
What? Ah. What trou-ble? Gotcha, A.R.E.L. Yeh, I know your name. Trouble
(big). Mean.
Me (a) focus. Keep off. Dan-ger. EYE watching) everything. Stomp (you) like a
roach.
Despite the wine glass she was still holding, her fingers moved
with growing fluency in the abbreviated signs that seemed little more than
the ordinary twitches and fiddles of someone bored or nervous. Slippery little
man that he was, Arel stood chatting casually with Joran, eyes flick-ing at
her and away, fingers acknowledging her signals, spelling back to her what she
spelled for him.
A.L.E.Y.T.Y.S. (to her) Get word. S.H.A.D.O.W. Here. Need help. Hurry. Watch
(out) for
G.LN.N.Y. S.E.Y.LR.S.H.I. Got (the word)? Good. You help(?) No no no. Stay
clear(!!!) Get out fast. Quiet. Fast(!) Quiet(!)
He ambled off, Joran falling into his usual half-pace behind, the two men
merging without fuss into the crowd gathered about Kiscomaskin and the Ciocan.
She gulped down the last of the wine in her glass and glanced around. No one
was interested in her at the moment; some of the locals were clumped in small
groups or moving into new ones, involved in the politics of sex or power,
the others were gathered about Rohant and Kiscomaskin, sucking in
the exchange between the two men. She listened a moment, smiled. From the
sound of his growl, Rohant was growing impatient, liking the pres-sure
Kiscomaskin was putting on him about as little as she had.
And he was getting more of it.
The leader of the band. Rah! Adult male, more or less like the locals, not
some freak like
Kikun or a child like me. Where is Kikun? Hope he hasn t run into
trouble out there. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
below the surface glitter, not like Asteplikota, too much anger, too much
drive. It was hammering at her, made her increasingly uncomfortable. She
couldn t shut him out....
She must have gone pale because he, touched her shoul-der again, then strolled
away to talk to
Rohant, unde-terred by the big cats flanking the Qom, eyeing with lazy
insolence anyone who came near.
One of the men in the entourage looked up as he passed her, met her eyes. A
small man, dark, with a bony sardonic face. A familiar face and so it should
be, Aleytys spent a year in and out of his bed when she was still looking for
her mother and Shadith was still trapped in the diadem, concatenation
of a forcelines improbably alive.
Arel the Smuggler at it again. He won t be selling the kind of arms those
types want, not him, everything else though, whatever the hopeful rebel needs.
Hmm! Free to go, in and out, ferret down a hole, nose about, scat when he s
finished. I wonder ... No! I go near him, any of us try it .. no! I imagine he
still counts on his talent for sliding to stay loose, there ll be nothing on
his ship hot enough to light a match. It s fast, but Ginny s got the high
ground, and the firepower. Gods, yes, and the fire power. Tsoukbaraim! it d be
so good to pile in and run for it. I didn t run before when I had a
chance, maybe not much of a chance, but something ... it was probably a
mistake, I don t know, I don t know, I don t know....
Joran followed a pace behind as always, pointed ears twitching, quietly
lethal, not liking this crowd much, but he never did like crowds.
Joran. Fascinating to be a fly on the wall if he ever went after Puk the Lute.
I d bet the house on that old killer. Puk wouldn t know what hit him.
She d come across Arel and loran again when she was in her own body, the time
on Avosing while she was there hunting for Grey. They were nose to nose for a
few minutes at the Smuggler s Market in
Keama Dusta, Arel, Joran and her, but neither of the men should have reason to
remember her ... she rubbed at the hawk outline burned into her cheek ... out
there for everyone to see ... and remember ... a lot of people have odd marks
on them, she was just another customer passing by....
Unless he got hold of some rumors about what hap-pened later ... plenty of
talk about, me and Linfyar and the dreamsongs. And Aleytys....
Sar! the man did recognize her, he was going to stop.
Hastily she gave him a warn-off, a flutter of the fingers as she slid a zipper
open an inch and drew it shut again.
Did he get it? Riiight, way to go, little man. And so he should, seeing it s
him who taught these signs to Lee and me though he sure didn t know about me
those days, I wasn t very visible on the scene ... gods, not like now, not
when I need a little invisibil-ity. He wouldn t break his schedule for her,
but he was REALLY hooked on Aleytys. Aren t they all, the men littering her
backtrail. Grey, Swar.... Come on, Shadow, no time for that. If I play this
right ... screw Ginnyl I foxed that creep guard, ru fox him, too. Right. He s
signing now.
Page 99
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
What? Ah. What trou-ble? Gotcha, A.R.E.L. Yeh, I know your name. Trouble
(big). Mean.
Me (a) focus. Keep off. Dan-ger. EYE watching) everything. Stomp (you) like a
roach.
Despite the wine glass she was still holding, her fingers moved
with growing fluency in the abbreviated signs that seemed little more than
the ordinary twitches and fiddles of someone bored or nervous. Slippery little
man that he was, Arel stood chatting casually with Joran, eyes flick-ing at
her and away, fingers acknowledging her signals, spelling back to her what she
spelled for him.
A.L.E.Y.T.Y.S. (to her) Get word. S.H.A.D.O.W. Here. Need help. Hurry. Watch
(out) for
G.LN.N.Y. S.E.Y.LR.S.H.I. Got (the word)? Good. You help(?) No no no. Stay
clear(!!!) Get out fast. Quiet. Fast(!) Quiet(!)
He ambled off, Joran falling into his usual half-pace behind, the two men
merging without fuss into the crowd gathered about Kiscomaskin and the Ciocan.
She gulped down the last of the wine in her glass and glanced around. No one
was interested in her at the moment; some of the locals were clumped in small
groups or moving into new ones, involved in the politics of sex or power,
the others were gathered about Rohant and Kiscomaskin, sucking in
the exchange between the two men. She listened a moment, smiled. From the
sound of his growl, Rohant was growing impatient, liking the pres-sure
Kiscomaskin was putting on him about as little as she had.
And he was getting more of it.
The leader of the band. Rah! Adult male, more or less like the locals, not
some freak like
Kikun or a child like me. Where is Kikun? Hope he hasn t run into
trouble out there. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]