Courts and Cabals by G.S. D'Moore (best e reader for academics txt) 📕

We’ve had to adapt to life living underground, and that requires more than human-level senses.”

That made sense, I conceded, and sat down on the bed next to her unrolled bundle. “Most dwarves live underground in their cities, so what are you doing here?” I wasn’t sure if it was a sore subject, but she was literally going to be sleeping in my room for the next few days. We might as well get to know each other a little.

“Our elders call humans sky-worshippers,” she began as she laid out several weapons and jars on my comforter. “Some dwarves don’t like to live underground. It not claustrophobia or anything like that; we just want more. There’s a term for us in our language – really a swear word – that loosely translates to sky-lover. I’m a sky-lover,” she didn’t sound ashamed.

“The sky is pretty sweet,” I filled in the lingering silence.

“I wasn’t always a sky-lover,” her hands kept moving, but her gaze was looking far off. “We don’t do school like humans. The closest equivalent is trade schools. We find the concept of a liberal arts education wasteful and stupid. We make sure our people can read, write, and do arithmetic; but then we hone in on their specialty and train them. You advance from apprentice, to journeyman, and finally to a master among the varying guilds. Those guilds are the ones that tend to do business with other races; with government oversight, of course.” She gave me a knowing look that I could relate to. I’d just undergone some of the government oversight myself. “I was a journeyman bladesmith, a bit of a prodigy,” her face lit up with a smile that warmed my egotistical heart. “I was set to take the master’s exams, but I decided to see the end stages of the supply chain first. I figured if I knew what our customers wanted, then I could make them better weapons.”

“Sounds smart,” I waited for her to continue.

“I’d never been aboveground before, and I thought the most beautiful thing in the world was the glow of the forge,” at the moment, she sounded way more like a love-struck teenager than the woman charged with protecting my life. “Then I saw the sky. It was so . . . beautiful,” she went from wonder to sadness in a heartbeat. “Sky-lovers are considered sick in my society. We’re not content with our lives toiling below the surface.”

“Dwarfish society is very much about the whole,” she explained. “For someone to want something for themselves is counterproductive to the collective. I hid how I felt for years, but you can’t hide what you really are. They said I failed my master’s examinations,” her knuckles turned white as she gripped the hilt of a blade in anger. “That was bullshit, and instead of staying and being ridiculed, I left,” she shrugged, like it was the natural thing to do.

“I bounced around for a few years; stayed here and there. I took odd jobs for food and shelter. The work of a master bladesmith – even if those old farts conspired to steal what I earned – is worth room and board to most people. Those were good times,” her expression was wistful again.

“My luck didn’t last,” she turned to face me. “I made a weapon for someone in Thailand that fell into the wrong hands. The government raided an unlicensed vamp lab where they were synthesizing a new type of ecstasy. The tracked it back to me because there aren’t that many bladesmiths working outside the cities. They were cracking down on the vamps at the time, and anyone aiding them was looking at twenty years in a Thai prison. Trust me, that’s not a place you want to find yourself. I barely got away,” she shivered at the memory, “and that’s when the cabal found me. They learned what I could do, offered me a job, and smoothed everything over with the Thai’s. I’ve worked for them ever since. I’ve been watching Lilith for the last few years, but they’ve got me my own forge, and there’s always an order list a mile long for people who appreciate my skills.”

It was clear she saw her place was in the forge making weapons, but there was also a clear affection for Lilith. Their banter earlier was proof of that. It was also clear Dani had lived a hell of a life, but I did have one question.

“I might be sticking my foot in my mouth,” I added for my own protection. “Because I know I’m never supposed to ask a lady this, but, how old are you?”

Dani barked a laugh. “I’ve got a lady’s bits, but not her temperament. I think you know that, Cam. But to answer your question, I’m twenty-six.”

“Twenty-six!” She looked a little younger than me, but looks were never a good way to judge the supernatural.

“So . . .” I didn’t know how to put this diplomatically, “you can buy beer.”

That got a much bigger laugh from the dwarf, and I tried to shush her as she reached into the remains of her bundle and tossed me a cold one. I was thankful, and would have popped it open, but I heard footsteps.

“Hide,” I hissed, and Dani dove under the bed.

“Cam,” the disgruntled voice of the senior outside was impatient. “what’s going on.”

I quickly grabbed the remote, and turned on the TV as I moved to the door. I hit the mute button just before I undid the lock. “Sorry, Max,” I opened the door up just enough so he could see the TV on. “I’ll keep it down.”

“Thanks,” the senior looked at what he could see without forcing the door open more. “Lights out in an hour,” he reminded me as I shut the door in his face.

Dani peeked her head out from under the bed with a