Liaden Universe [19] - Alliance of Equals - eARC by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee Page A

redder. Padi wondered if she had been maladroit.
    “The chutney, Trader, no. You do not put laster chutney into stasis. You tuck it tenderly into the best stateroom, as if it were your own child.”
    She had been maladroit; she scolded herself, she should have known better. Hadn’t her research told her how fragile the laster fruit was? Surely that would be the case for anything made from it.
    “I am desolate to have no such tender accommodations available to the chutney,” she said. “I have only heard tales of this rare foodstuff, and for a moment, I allowed my hope to interfere with my good sense.”
    The smile widened again. She had redeemed herself.
    “But, if not the chutney, what brings you to me?”
    “I am in search of milaster ,” she said. “Quite a bit of milaster . I am informed that you sell in bulk.”
    “I do, yes! However, Trader, I must warn you that the kernels, they will lose…taste, texture, nutritional values after only a very short time in stasis. They remain edible, but they do not remain excellent !”
    “I understand,” Padi assured him. “I plan to deliver within the toleration period.”
    “Hm.” That was said quite softly; the smile entirely vanished now, as he studied her from brown eyes squinted into slits.
    “How much bulk milaster will you buy, Trader?”
    Now they were approaching the correct course. Padi looked directly into those calculating brown eyes, and asked, “That will depend upon how much you have to sell, and at what price and condition,” she answered.
    Gustav rel’Ana’s eyebrows rose.
    “Well, then,” he said. “If you please, Trader, step over to the side counter, just there. I will call for assistance here, and then—we will talk.”
    —•—
    There was a tiny ripple in the air by her ear, as if a flutterbee had passed quite near.
    Priscilla looked up from her work screen, frowning slightly. Flutterbees were not expectable in the office of a captain hard at work inside of a starship in orbit…
    There.
    A glow of dusty red drew her eye, on the desk between her coffee mug and the keyboard. She took a careful breath, and extended her attention, remembering how this very same game counter had been waiting for her—for Moonhawk—when she had come to Weapons Hall, to gather those things that she would need, as the captain of a warship around an embattled planet. Then, the counter had been sparkling with Shan’s presence, when he had been separated from the ship, his fate unknown. It had comforted her to know without doubt that he was alive.
    When matters were settled, and they were rejoined, the counter had left her and…returned, to Shan.
    “Stupid object,” he’d told it, “I’m not Lute.”
    Only he was Lute, in the same way that she was Moonhawk, old souls both. She had been taught at Temple that she was “Moonhawk’s vessel,” and that her strength as a Witch came from that special relationship with one of the oldest priestesses of their order.
    Lute had, according to history and myth, been Moonhawk’s companion…across many lifetimes. He was not himself a priest—there were no priests at the temples on Sintia—but he had, often, been acknowledged as a Man of Power, though some histories referred to him as a mere cunningman.
    While she would never suggest to Shan that his gift came from his special relationship with Lute, it was clear to her that there was…an interest.
    She touched the red counter with the tip of one finger, read the tale of its recent adventures, and smiled.
    Shan had sent it away in a fit of pique, and it had come to her, apparently being unwilling yet to return to Lute, or to Weapons Hall.
    Priscilla focused on the battered item, imprinting I love you into its wooden soul, and then murmured, “Return.”
    She lifted her finger.
    There was a flash of red, brighter than the counter itself, followed by that small disturbance in the quiet air of her office.
    The tiny uncluttered triangle of desk space between her