“Stay out of this,” she told him.
“I said nothing.”
“You made a clan-leader noise.”
“I was unaware I had one.”
“You do.”
Zemma looked between them with obvious amusement before continuing. “I can get better materials. Finer metals, gemstones instead of crystals, that sort of thing. You design the pieces and do the detailed work. I provide the materials and handle the resort.”
“And the credits?”
“Half.”
Polly stared at her, and Zemma grinned. “I thought that might get your attention.”
It did.
For the next half hour they discussed designs and materials and how many pieces she could realistically make without turning something she loved into something she hated. By the time they finally left, she had agreed to make six pieces as a trial collection.
Six expensive pieces. Her pieces.
“You didn’t say anything,” she said as she and Njkall walked away.
“You told me to stay out of it.”
“I didn’t mean forever.”
“I thought you negotiated very well.”
Pride warmed her. “So did I.”
They had almost reached the end of the street when Njkall slowed.
Rjmar stood outside his shop with Doren beside him, the two males arguing over something in Rjmar’s enormous hand.
“No,” Rjmar was saying. “I’m telling you, if you hit it again, you’re going to break it.”
“I have not hit it.”
“You hit it yesterday.”
“Once.”
“With a hammer.”
“It was a very small hammer.”
She stopped, vaguely recognizing the item.
“Is that the thing from the ruins?”
Rjmar’s head came up. “Njkall’s female. Good afternoon.”
“Mate,” Njkall corrected.
Rjmar rolled his eyes. “As if the entire planet hasn’t heard.”
