Limits by Larry Niven (books to read for 13 year olds txt) 📕

into the hills before the moon rose. Dawn found her back on the highway, well ahead of the caravan, chuckling as she wondered how Sung would explain his acquisition.

When she dug the pointer out of her sleeve, her sense of humor quite vanished. The pointer was tugging her back. She must have ridden too far.

After a hasty breakfast of dried figs and jerked meat Sparthera started to retrace her path, paralleling the King’s Way. Days of following the pointer had left painful cramping in both hands, but she dared not set it down now. At any moment she expected the bronze teardrop to pull her aside.

She was paying virtually no attention to her path. At the crest of a smooth hill, she looked up to see another horse coming toward her. Its rider was a smooth-faced man with skin the color of old ivory, and his almond eyes were amused. It was too late even to think of hiding.

“Oh ho! My sweet little friend from two nights ago. What brings you onto the King’s Way?”

“My hair,” Sparthera improvised. “Cosmetics. There’s a witch-woman who lives that way—” She gestured vaguely south, and gave him her best effort at a flirtatious smile. “—and I find I can afford her fees, thanks to the generosity of a slant-eyed magician.”

“Oh, dear, and I had hoped your lips were aching for another kiss.” He looked at her critically. “You don’t need to visit any witch. Even shorn, you are quite enchanting. You must share my midday meal. I insist. Come, we can rest in the shade of those trees yonder.”

Sparthera was afraid to spur her horse and flee. He might suspect nothing at all; else why had he joined the caravan? She turned her horse obediently and rode to the shade of the small grove with him, trailing the wingbeast behind at the end of its halter.

Sung slid easily from his unicorn. He still didn’t seem dangerous. She could insist on preparing the food. Wine she could spill while pretending to drink. She swung down from her horse—

Her head hurt. Her eyes wouldn’t focus. She tried to roll over and her head pulsed in red pain. Her arms and legs seemed caught in something. Rope? She waited until her head stopped throbbing before she tried to learn more.

Then it was obvious. Her hands were tied behind her; a leather strap secured her ankles to one of the shade trees. Sung Ko Ja was sitting crosslegged on a rug in front of her, flipping a bronze teardrop in the air.

Bastard. He must have hit her on the head while she was dismounting.

“Eight nights ago I noticed that someone had cut the paper out of my bedroom window,” he said. “I woke the next morning with a foul taste in my mouth, but that could have been cheap wine, or too much wine. Last night some rogue put a roll of stolen dry goods in my baggage—which caused me no end of embarrassment. I would not ordinarily have thought of you in connection with this. I confess that my memories of our time together are most pleasant. However,” he paused to sip at a bowl of tea. “However, my unicorn, who can whisper strange things when I want him to, and sometimes when I don’t—”

“He speaks?”

The unicorn was glaring at her. Sparthera glared back. Magician or no, she felt that this was cheating, somehow.

“Such a disappointment,” said Sung Ko Ja. “If only you had come to my arms last night, all of this might be different. You sadden me. Here you are, and here is this.” He held up the pointer. “Why?”

She looked at the ground, biting her lip.

“Why?”

“Money, of course!” she blurted out. “You said that thing was the key to a treasure! Wouldn’t you have taken it too, in my place?”

Sung laughed and rubbed his fingers over his chin. “No, I don’t think so. But I am not you. It may be this was my fault. I tempted you.”

He got to his feet. He tilted her head back with one hand so he could look into her eyes. “Now, what’s to be done? Swear to be my slave and I’ll take you along to look for Gar’s treasure.”

“A slave? Never! My people have always been free. I’d rather die than be a slave!”

Sung looked distressed. “Let’s not call it slavery then, if you dislike it so much. Bondage? Binding? Let’s say you will bind yourself to me. For seven years and a day, or until we find treasure to equal your weight in gold.”

“And if we find the treasure, what then?”

“Then you’re free.”

“That’s not enough. I want part of the treasure.”

Sung laughed again, this time in pure amusement. “You bargain hard for one who has been pinioned and tied to a tree. All right. Part of the treasure then.”

“How much of it?” she asked warily.

“Hmmm. I take the first and second most valuable items. We split the rest equally.”

“Who decides—”

Sung was growing irritated. “I’ll split the remaining treasure into two heaps. You choose which heap you want.”

That actually sounded fair. “Agreed.”

“Ah, but now it is my turn. What are you going to swear by, my little sweetheart? I want your oath that you’ll offer me no harm, that you’ll stay by my side and obey my commands, until the terms of the agreement are met.”

Sparthera hesitated. It didn’t take a magician to know how to make an oath binding. Even nations kept their oaths…to the letter, and that could make diplomacy interesting…

She could be making herself rich. Or she could be throwing away seven years of her life. Would Sung hold still for a better bargain?

Not a chance. “All right. I’ll swear by Khulm, the thieves’ god who stands in the shrine at Rynildissen. May he break my fingers if I fail.”

“You swear then?”

“I swear.”

Sung bent down and kissed her heartily on the lips. Then he set about freeing her. He set out tea while she was rubbing her wrists. There was a lump on