Night Song (The Guild Wars Book 9) by Mark Wandrey (best ereader under 100 .txt) 📕

fist to her heart, grinning. “No one will doubt her word about who you are.”

“She has you a little starstruck, eh, Veska?” Ripley asked, teasing the other female. “I guess I can see why.”

Veska tilted her head, weighing the translated phrase, then huffed a laugh. “She is ferocious and honorable. No one could not admire her. When I told her I would stay here until your Humans were returned, she said she would include your return in her report.”

“As soon as the gate’s unlocked, messages can start to move,” Shadow said, drumming his fingers against his leg. “It won’t be too long before the Zuul know, then.”

“Did you…want it another way?” Veska looked up at Rex, who laid his head against hers and said something too softly for Alan’s Human ears to pick up.

Something caught under his heart at the scene—more Zuul knowing about his kids, without him being able to warn Dana first that Krif’Hosh was apparently a big deal in Zuul circles. Would they want to come home, with something like that glory ahead of them? Would Rex want to bring Veska home to meet his mom? If it continued, did Zuul marry?

He cleared his throat to interrupt both them and his thoughts—the contract was over, but they shouldn’t let their guard down before they were out of this godforsaken system.

“Rex, Drake, get your light armor and weapons. The Pushtal are coming to call about more concessions, and the Zuparti want us looking sharp on their behalf. Chelsey,” he added, catching sight of the corporal just behind Shadow. “Bana’s going to set up in here, but I want you on lookout, too. We’re all agreed on the truce, so nothing too hot sauce, just enough to help them mind their manners. Shadow, you’re with Chelsey and Bana. Sonya, Ripley, I want you with Anderle, getting logistics ready for move-out. We don’t need the Pushtal desire for concessions to slow us down.”

“Dad.” Drake stood, shooting a commiserating look at Sonya’s gagging noise. “Let us wear our CASPers this time. The Pushtal really, really…stink.”

Alan bit back his smile and mock-glared at his son. “Keep it together, boyo. Last time we have to see them, and you have to smell them, before we get out of here.”

“Hopefully,” Sonya muttered, rubbing her nose dramatically until Ripley elbowed her.

* * *

Shadow held his posture at full attention as Ifka stomped into the room. Amazing that the Zuparti could manage a stomp in the light gravity, but that long body effected the emphatic step and long bounce with clear evidence of pique.

Five Pushtal followed, one ahead and four behind, in slightly puffy protective gear. The suits were bulky, but Shadow supposed they couldn’t afford anything too state of the art. He’d grown up around enough second-hand and rebuilt equipment to recognize the shape, though something was off in the leader’s suit. One of his arms was larger than the other, and didn’t move at all as he walked—maybe the suit had also malfunctioned? No wonder they were angling for more concessions.

Though why had they sent five transports for five Pushtal? Shadow had done some research on the race after their encounter in space. Anyone who had a Raknar automatically rose in Shadow’s interest. Clans often fought as fiercely with each other as they did with other races. Perhaps the Vergola had made deals with multiple Pushtal clans, and even in this phase of negotiations, the leaders couldn’t share space. Or maybe each had to travel with an honor guard of their own?

These didn’t seem particularly tense with each other, walking with easy strides through the room to settle at the long table set up for the meeting. As they entered and the doors closed, the heaters came on, and the Pushtal removed their helmets. The leader sat first, rubbing long claws through his yellow, orange, and black cheek fur. He tapped his eye patch, readjusting it, which Shadow found especially amusing from a member of a race that had basically become space pirates. He made a note to ask Rex if Space Pirates considered eye patches the height of fashion like the old Earth legends.

As Ifka gestured for the rest to sit, Shadow watched how the large beings moved and considered their past as a merc race. No wonder they were angling for more money, especially if they represented multiple clans. Without the backing of the Guild—no matter how precarious the Guild currently was—they wouldn’t have had the same strength of contract or weight of bigger consequences to back them up after this mess of a situation in E’cop’k.

“After our conversations with the Vergola,” Eye Patch said, diving in without introductions or waiting for Ifka to speak. The Zuparti shivered all over in rage, and Shadow had to hide his amusement.

Then his legs staggered beneath him, and all amusement fled. The building groaned, and an alarm sounded from some distance away. After a moment, the faint sound strengthened as more alarms picked up throughout their base.

“Bana,” his father said, calm as ever, “take a squad and investigate.”

“Aye. Drake, Hill, Dyffid, Sauger, with me. Chelsey, you take over in here.” Bana didn’t pause to ensure his orders were followed, he pulled his gun and moved out of the room.

Shadow, still finding his balance, took a half-step after the sergeant before collecting himself. Had something exploded? A problem in the mines? He hoped Niss and the Aku were all right, but he hadn’t been selected to go see what the issue was, so hope was all he had at the moment.

The Pushtal looked around, seemingly unconcerned with the building moving around them. “Does this happen often on your base?” Eye Patch asked, one ear twitching.

“No,” Ifka snapped, her face bristling. “You were say—”

BOOM.

Shadow crouched automatically, ears twisting to locate the source of the sound. That had definitely been an explosion, and