She ignored them and looked at the object in Rjmar’s palm. It wasn’t large, no bigger than one of her hands, and she couldn’t decide what it was made from. Dark metal, perhaps, except that strange markings seemed to move beneath its surface when it caught the light.
“You went back for it.”
“Of course I went back for it.”
Doren snorted. “He nearly brought half the mountain down doing it.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Baralt used several words I’m not going to repeat in front of the lady.”
“I’ve heard words,” she said, and Doren gave her a quick grin.
Njkall picked up the object and turned it over in one enormous palm. “And you still don’t know what it is?”
“No.” Rjmar’s irritation vanished beneath genuine interest. “It’s older than the facility. Much older. They found it there or brought it there, but they didn’t make it.”
“Imperial?”
“Not anything Imperial I’ve ever seen.”
Doren leaned against the shop entrance. “Which means naturally we’re going to drag it halfway across the Empire looking for someone who has.”
Njkall looked at Rjmar and frowned. “You’re leaving Hothrest?”
“Thinking about it.” The trader’s gaze drifted past them, towards the landing field, toward the ships and the sky beyond. “Been on Hothrest my whole life. No kin any more, no clan. Maybe it’s time for a change.”
“Rjmar—”
“Don’t.” He held up one hand, claws glinting dully. “I don’t need a speech, Clan Leader. You can’t solve everything. And there’s a big universe out there.”
“Thanks the gods,” Doren said.
“You’re going with him?” she asked.
“Fuck, yes. I have a powerful desire never to see another snowdrift.”
“You’ve been here less than a year,” Rjmar growled, but she noticed he didn’t dispute the fact that the younger male would accompany him.
“Longest year of my life,” Doren snapped.
“And without me you’d have starved halfway through it.”
“See?” Doren looked at her. “Always keeping a ledger.”
But he was smiling when he said it. Rjmar cuffed him hard enough to stagger him sideways, and she laughed.
“Come on,” she told Njkall. “We’re supposed to be at Izzie’s.”
They left Rjmar and Doren arguing behind them.
Izzie opened the door before she could knock.
“Finally.” She pulled Polly into a hug. “I was beginning to think Baralt had invented this mysterious message just to get you here.”
“I do not invent things,” Baralt called from inside.
“You told me you were dying once because you had a splinter.”
