Page 113 of Star Bringer
A man appears from a door behind the bar. Like the port supervisor, he’s really short and broad, but his bushy beard is a bright coppery red. What little skin I can see is red, too, no doubt from exposure to the elements.
He heads toward us with a curious look, but there’s no malice in it. And, as far as I can tell, absolutely no sign of recognition. He’s probably wondering what kind of people are foolish enough to be walking around in this mess. But all he says is, “Can I get you folks something?”
“Gerjgin,” Ian replies. He gets a planeta out of his pocket and tosses it to the man, who glances at it, raises a brow, and slides it in his apron.
“Coming up.”
“Wait a second.” Ian stops him as he starts to walk away. “Do you have a crew member from theReformerstaying here?”
“Who’s asking?” The barkeep looks immediately suspicious. “And why?”
“We just want to ask him a few questions. If he’s willing to speak to us, there’ll be something in it for both of you,” Ian tells him.
The man studies both of us for a few seconds before giving a curt nod. “Brent’s upstairs. I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.”
We don’t speak while we wait. I’ve got nothing to say—nothing polite, anyway. Though I know I can’t really blame this one on Ian. He didn’t want me to come, even tried to talk me out of it. And I can also understand why he’s pushing so hard. In fact, the way he’s putting everything he has into this search for Milla actually makes me feel a little better. Anyone who will search an entire solar system and risk everything that he’s risked can’t be nearly as bad as Ian says he is.
The bartender reappears with a bottle of gerjgin and three glasses. “Brent is on his way,” he tells me, placing them on the table in front of us.
Ian pours us both a glass. I swallow mine in one go, relishing the burn in my throat and the warmth in my stomach, before holding the glass out for more. He gives me a dubious look but refills it.
“I’m not carrying you back,” he tells me. “So don’t drink too much.”
I sit back and sip this one, though I really want to gulp it down, too. But Ian has a point. Getting here was hard enough sober. I can’t imagine what it will be like to fight that wind after a few glasses.
Suddenly, the door in the back of the room swings open and a man appears. He’s middle aged, mid-height, pretty much mid-everything. His skin is gray, but his hair is black and lank, and when he licks his lips, I see a flash of red teeth. So he’s from Ellindan, then. That’s interesting to know.
He looks us over, face wary, before finally shuffling up to our table. Ian pours gerjgin into the third glass and nods to the seat opposite him.
Brent sits. “I don’t know you.”
“Never said you did,” Ian answers.
His eyes narrow. “Sam said you wanted to talk to me. I don’t talk to strangers.”
“Even strangers who will pay for the honor?” Ian slaps a couple planetas on the table in front of him.
Brent takes a sip of his drink. “Maybe I can make an exception.”
“We appreciate it.” Ian flashes him a smile that somehow manages to feel more like a threat. “You’re a crew member on theReformer?”
“So what if I am?”
Ian answers with another question. “You were on the last trip here? What was the cargo?”
The man shrugs and gives an obnoxious smile. “Just some old junk. Nothing of any value.”
Despite the high gravity, Ian moves so fast I nearly miss it. What I don’t miss is the result—his knife stabbing straight down through Brent’s hand, pinning it to the table.
Chapter 43
Kali
I let out a little yelp of surprise.
Brent, on the other hand (no pun intended), lets out a piercing scream.
“Fuck! Shit! What the fucking Light?” Brent’s trying to pull his hand free, but Ian just presses down harder. I risk a quick glance at his face, then wish I hadn’t. His eyes are cold, deadly—vicious in a way I’ve never seen from him before, even when he was killing those men in the alley.
