would swear. He felt the weight of her arms around his neck and her cheek, soft against his. He took a careful breath and did not, most assuredly did not, open his eyes.
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice somber. “I fear . . . Daav, I very much fear that he has been lost.”
SEVEN
Emerald Casino
Surebleak Port
As holding cells went, the so-called waiting room wasn’t too bad, Miri thought. There were a couple good chairs, a table and a deck of cards. No window, o’ course, and a guard on the outside of the door. Still, she’d seen worse—and from the inside, too.
“How long do you think they’ll let us cool?” she asked.
Val Con had pulled one of the chairs out, and was fussing over its placement with regard to the door. “Not long. However, I fear that whoever is sent to deal with us may be somewhat irritable.”
He paused, considering the chair. Apparently satisfied, he stepped to her side and took her hand. “ Cha’trez , you should sit.”
“I should, should I? Well, why not?”
She settled in, leaned her head back and smiled up at him.
“The view’s pretty, but I’m gonna get a crick in my neck unless you sit down, too.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
He perched on the arm of the chair, his hip companionably against her arm. His left hand rested flat on his thigh, putting Korval’s Ring on prominent display.
“Think they’re gonna come in shooting?” she asked interestedly.
“It is a possibility,” he admitted, turning his head to smile down at her, “though the odds are not particularly high.”
“Which is why you’re between me and the door.”
His smile softened.
“It harms no one to be prudent.”
“Now, the way I heard it . . .” she began, then stopped at the sound of voices outside the door.
One was the security guy—Jeremy—explaining to a lower, sterner voice how they hadn’t given him no trouble, which they hadn’t. Would’ve put a strain on the kin-bond to go breaking up Pat Rin’s gaming house and, besides, security’d only been doing their job.
The lower voice said something short and definitive and the door came open, sharp, just in case they were crowding it. Jeremy, the security guy, took point, followed by a man who was surely a pro, the gun showing on his belt more of a neighborly warning than a threat. The third man was—familiar. Yellow hair so light it just missed white, steel-rimmed spectacles, and a tough, wiry build. She knew this guy, she was sure of it, but she couldn’t quite bring to mind—
“See, Boss?” Jeremy said, jerking his head in their general direction. “No trouble, no chatter. Nothing. Sleet, he’s even naked.”
Inside her head, she saw the ripple of Val Con’s amusement. His head was turned away, but she knew as sure as if she’d seen it that the eyebrow had gone up.
The blond man’s smile was tight, but his voice was calm and even friendly.
“It’s what we say here, when somebody’s not carrying.”
“I thank you,” Val Con answered, “I was unaware of the usage.”
“Welcome. Now, we got some questions for the pair of you—”
The pattern clicked. Miri came to her feet, moving around to get a better look, registering Val Con falling in by her off-arm, but not paying much attention, because she had it now. By damn if it wasn’t—
“Penn Kalhoon—is that really you?”
He looked over to her, light sliding off his glasses, wary puzzlement in the set of his shoulders. His bodyguard shifted, a friendly reminder that he was on the job, that was all—and no worries; she wasn’t going to make a lunge for his boss. Penn Kalhoon . Now she had it, she could see the kid he’d been, back when she’d worked pickup at his father’s garage. He’d been her friend.
He wasn’t sharing her moment of clarity, though.
“C’mon, Penn, I changed so much since? I can still fit in the little places.”
His face cleared, stance going from baffled to disbelief.
“ Miri Robertson ? What the
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice somber. “I fear . . . Daav, I very much fear that he has been lost.”
SEVEN
Emerald Casino
Surebleak Port
As holding cells went, the so-called waiting room wasn’t too bad, Miri thought. There were a couple good chairs, a table and a deck of cards. No window, o’ course, and a guard on the outside of the door. Still, she’d seen worse—and from the inside, too.
“How long do you think they’ll let us cool?” she asked.
Val Con had pulled one of the chairs out, and was fussing over its placement with regard to the door. “Not long. However, I fear that whoever is sent to deal with us may be somewhat irritable.”
He paused, considering the chair. Apparently satisfied, he stepped to her side and took her hand. “ Cha’trez , you should sit.”
“I should, should I? Well, why not?”
She settled in, leaned her head back and smiled up at him.
“The view’s pretty, but I’m gonna get a crick in my neck unless you sit down, too.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
He perched on the arm of the chair, his hip companionably against her arm. His left hand rested flat on his thigh, putting Korval’s Ring on prominent display.
“Think they’re gonna come in shooting?” she asked interestedly.
“It is a possibility,” he admitted, turning his head to smile down at her, “though the odds are not particularly high.”
“Which is why you’re between me and the door.”
His smile softened.
“It harms no one to be prudent.”
“Now, the way I heard it . . .” she began, then stopped at the sound of voices outside the door.
One was the security guy—Jeremy—explaining to a lower, sterner voice how they hadn’t given him no trouble, which they hadn’t. Would’ve put a strain on the kin-bond to go breaking up Pat Rin’s gaming house and, besides, security’d only been doing their job.
The lower voice said something short and definitive and the door came open, sharp, just in case they were crowding it. Jeremy, the security guy, took point, followed by a man who was surely a pro, the gun showing on his belt more of a neighborly warning than a threat. The third man was—familiar. Yellow hair so light it just missed white, steel-rimmed spectacles, and a tough, wiry build. She knew this guy, she was sure of it, but she couldn’t quite bring to mind—
“See, Boss?” Jeremy said, jerking his head in their general direction. “No trouble, no chatter. Nothing. Sleet, he’s even naked.”
Inside her head, she saw the ripple of Val Con’s amusement. His head was turned away, but she knew as sure as if she’d seen it that the eyebrow had gone up.
The blond man’s smile was tight, but his voice was calm and even friendly.
“It’s what we say here, when somebody’s not carrying.”
“I thank you,” Val Con answered, “I was unaware of the usage.”
“Welcome. Now, we got some questions for the pair of you—”
The pattern clicked. Miri came to her feet, moving around to get a better look, registering Val Con falling in by her off-arm, but not paying much attention, because she had it now. By damn if it wasn’t—
“Penn Kalhoon—is that really you?”
He looked over to her, light sliding off his glasses, wary puzzlement in the set of his shoulders. His bodyguard shifted, a friendly reminder that he was on the job, that was all—and no worries; she wasn’t going to make a lunge for his boss. Penn Kalhoon . Now she had it, she could see the kid he’d been, back when she’d worked pickup at his father’s garage. He’d been her friend.
He wasn’t sharing her moment of clarity, though.
“C’mon, Penn, I changed so much since? I can still fit in the little places.”
His face cleared, stance going from baffled to disbelief.
“ Miri Robertson ? What the
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