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Don t be daft, she snapped. You know good and well why we re here.
I know we re searching for some person named Matt Sterling. That doesn t really
answer the why.
Just do what you re told and you ll keep your job.
If we make it out of this alive, I ll expect a hefty bonus.
Fine.
And a blowjob.
Any of the Mistresses will suck you dry anytime you like.
I m well aware of the fact, sweetheart. I want you on your knees.
She didn t argue or relent. There was no way she could have made this trek alone,
but they still needed to find Matt.
A spear flew in front of Ebon s face and lodged in a nearby tree with a menacing
thunk. She watched the shaft wobble as Ebon sprang into motion. Shoving her to the
ground, he stood over her, pulse pistol ready to blast their unseen attacker.
Drintal pev arnstin caribom talli mon!
She had no idea what the words meant, but the deep male voice cracked like a
whip. We are pilgrims, come to offer praise. She d been told the words would calm
even the most aggressive native.
You don t look like pilgrims. The same man responded in heavily accented
Shardrake. His form still lost in shadow.
We came to barter. Ebon motioned toward the hover-cart. Would you like to see
what we offer?
Four natives crept closer, three brandishing spears. The spokesman stayed slightly
apart from the others, his dark gaze openly assessing. Ebon retracted the top of the cart
and allowed the men to inspect the variety of merchandise they d assembled fabric,
rope, cooking utensils and spices.
Are you Wikoli or Perrlain? Petra asked, her attention fixed on the spokesman.
If we were Perrlain, you d be dead. They have become extremely intolerant of
pilgrims lately.
Do you currently have any other visitors? she asked. Cephus hadn t known
Matt s final destination, just that he was in the wilderness preserve on Temple-Tuttle.
We were returning from a hunt. I will take you to Drey Fon. He knows everything
that transpires in the valley.
Is he your leader?
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He likes to think so.
They fell in step behind the Wikoli hunters. A river guided them to the village and
Petra gazed around in horror. Huts were separated by dirt trails and fire pits. There was
nothing that even faintly resembled civilization. One of the hunters spoke to the leader
and all four laughed.
What did he say? Petra had the distinct impression she d been the butt of a joke.
He was curious to know if all your hair is blue.
She was just annoyed enough to answer, but Ebon placed his hand on her arm.
You don t know what they will perceive as an invitation, he warned.
They came to a hut slightly larger than the others. The spokesman called out in their
native tongue and a dark-haired man with copper-tinted skin emerged from inside.
Like the hunters, he wore only a piece of brightly colored material wrapped around his
hips. Unlike the hunters, elaborate golden decorations surrounded his upper arms and
throat.
We have visitors, the hunter told him in Shardrake.
So I see, he responded in the same language.
After bowing from the waist, the hunter turned back the way he d come.
What brings you to our village? The other man s voice was well-modulated and
nearly free of the hunter s guttural accent. He stalked toward her, his dark eyes settling
on her face.
Stories of your culture have been buzzing about on Halley Prime ever since my
nephew Ashton VinDerley encountered some of the Perrlain.
We are not Perrlain.
The hostility in his tone surprised her. Were the two tribes at war? Your friend told
me I d probably be dead if you were.
He exaggerates. The Perrlain are cowards, content to pretend the rest of the
universe doesn t exist.
These savages had a thing or two to learn about hospitality. She was exhausted,
sweaty and dying of thirst. We brought wares to barter, but I d really like to freshen
up before we negotiate. Hopefully, that was clear enough for this imbecile.
We have a lodge for visitors. I ll take you there. He motioned Ebon off in the
direction the hunter had taken. You may sleep with the men.
Where she goes, I go. No exceptions. His hand covered his pulse pistol, though he
didn t bother drawing the weapon.
As you wish.
He led them down another path, this one even less tolerable than the others. What
little moonlight they had previously enjoyed was choked out by the dense trees and
twisting vines. Ebon flipped on his light beam and their host she couldn t remember
what the hunter had called him snatched it out of his hand.
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Night creatures are best left asleep. Move quickly and quietly.
Perhaps it would be better if we stayed in the village. She d had about enough of
his rudeness.
We re almost there.
What s your name again and what role do you play in this tribe?
You may call me Drey Fon.
I m Petra. This is Ebon.
Drey Fon acknowledged the introduction with a stiff nod, still refusing to define his
role.
Did you lock the hover-cart? she asked Ebon. It would be hard to barter if they
returned to the village and found all of their goods missing.
The Wikoli are not thieves. Drey Fon sounded genuinely affronted.
A faint glow separated a dwelling from the surrounding darkness. Had someone lit
a fire in this heat? That would be just her luck to be stuck in a sweat lodge with this
disagreeable&
The door opened and firelight spilled out into the night, silhouetting the woman
standing in the threshold. There was no doubt she was a woman. Despite her long black
hair, her curvaceous shape was revealed in glorious detail.
Is she naked? Ebon whispered.
We find no shame in our nudity. You will find yourselves grossly overdressed for
our climate.
The woman stepped back from the doorway, allowing them to enter the small hut.
Though a fire burned in a shallow pit, the interior of the lodge was surprisingly
comfortable. A crude table and matching bench were the only furniture. On the far side
of the fire pit spread a mound of mismatched bedding. The hand-quilted blankets and
embroidered coverlets as well as animal hides were likely the result of bartering.
Inventory only took Petra a matter of moments, leaving only the strange woman
and the surly man. She d dismissed Drey Fon as unimportant, so her gaze focused on
the woman.
Do you have a name?
She doesn t speak your language, Drey Fon said.
You may call me Ratauni, though that is not my name.
Petra shot Drey Fon a challenging glance as the woman approached. Thick blue-
black hair fell in a silken sheet to her hips. She could make a fortune as a Pleasure
Mistress with that commanding voice and those high, firm breasts. Ratauni took Petra s
hand and guided it to her breast. Snatching her hand away, Petra released a nervous
laugh.
You have a beautiful body. I might enjoy looking at you, but I don t want to
touch.
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