The Backworlds by M. Pax

Bast.
    One of the gloom-clad things
fidgeted, the drape of fabric rustling. “ Yo still up
for this, Gattar?” The words grated as if sifted through rocks.
    So they knew each other and the Jix
already knew what opportunity these mystery people offered. Craze wondered when
he’d be let in on it.
    The gravelly voice had to belong to
a male. No telling what race of Backworlder he was though. Gravel Voice set a
small bar, about the size of Craze’s thumb, down on the table. It was wrapped
in gold foil and a fancy red-gelatin casing that sealed in whatever it was.
Such protection hinted at great value.
    Gravel voice’s thumb flicked in
Craze’s direction. “This yo new partner?”
    Gattar arched her brows at Craze,
indicating he should answer. Craze understood she had set him up, but he didn’t
know for what. Bending over, he tried to give himself more of the information
he sought, sniffing at the wrapped bar on the table. The preservative casing
held in any identifying scent, but he recognized the mark on the foil. He had
seen it only once before in one of Bast’s blown
deals.
    “Yes,” he said without hesitation,
because if that bar was part of a shipment of chocolate, he was about to become
the richest Verkinn that ever lived.

 
     
    CHAPTER 9
     
     
     
    Whispers from the underworld
claimed chocolate only came from the Foreworlds, its origins still tied to the
fairy- taled Earth. Craze didn’t believe that, but he
knew chocolate was rare and held dear, dearer than air and water on many
worlds. Channeled through clandestine sources, the one bar on the table cost more
than his entire startup fund. No matter what Gattar’s intentions, Craze wanted
to be involved in this trade.
    “We partners,” he said, moving to
rub at the Jix’s back, a show of solidarity.
    “Then the deal is on,” Gravel Voice
said. “ Yo know where we want to meet. Three hours
before sunup.”
    Gattar nodded. “Agreed. See you
then, friend.”
    Gravel Voice held out a small rod.
The bar of chocolate floated up off of the sticky tabletop, attracted to the
rod, clinging to it. The mystery man slid both objects into his pocket and
glided toward the exit with his entourage.
    The foil had to be magnetized to do
that. Interesting. “Who is they?” Craze asked, sinking back down into his seat.
    “Opportunity,” Gattar said. “One we
have to play perfectly. You need a lot of schooling might quick if we to pull
this off.”
    Craze wasn’t sure what they would
be pulling off, but gave his consent. “OK. Let’s get started.”
    “Not here.” She stood up, draining
the pitcher, setting it down, and wiping her mouth before she took her first
step toward the door. Despite its inferior quality, Craze dumped the bottle of
malt in his bag and followed.
    His eyelids fluttered against the
glare of daylight outside and he stumbled, bumping into Gattar. “Sorry.” He
donned a sheepish grin, wanting to grind home he was the rube she thought. He
couldn’t miss out on this deal.
    The Jix considered him in silence,
standing still. Craze didn’t know what other factors she weighed other than she
needed someone like him, someone fresh and strong with an intimidating build.
    Gattar stepped into Craze’s space,
grabbing onto the front of his coveralls, tugging the material away from his
skin. She peered down, running a hand down his abdomen. “You know what wealth
they offer. I can tell you know.”
    It was the potential fortune more
than the Jix tempting Craze. He didn’t try to hide it, didn’t pull away.
“Chocolate,” he whispered against her cheek. “Did you get to taste it?”
    “No,” she admitted.
    “I hear it’s silky.” A good thing
to bring up while she touched him.
    Those neon green irises grew as
large as his hand and pierced through his calculations, stirring up pangs of
guilt. He didn’t know why, didn’t know what there was to feel guilty about. A
trait of her kind? Craze made note of the possibility.
    “You can quit