Pandora's Genes Read Free

thought privately.
    The man and woman seemed overwhelmed, and Zach sensed that they were once again on the point of changing their minds. He spoke: “Why don’t we all have a bit of brew, to seal the bargain?”
    “Yes,” agreed Marson. He hopped up and refilled Zach’s tankard, then his own and a drinking gourd for his wife. As she took it, Zach could see that her hands were trembling.
    “To our bargain,” said Zach. They drank. He rose and handed the moneybag to Marson, who opened it onto the floor in front of him. He and his wife counted through the shiny round coins, twice.
    “It’s so much,” the woman said.
    “Value for value,” said Zach. “I advise you to hide it in a very safe place. Even in this remote area, it’s possible I have been seen and recognized.”
    “I already know the place,” said Marson. “I’ll attend to it as soon as you’ve left in the morning.”
    “I wish you luck,” said Zach.
    Marson looked at him, then: “Thank you.” He sounded exhausted. He gathered up the metal and replaced it in the bag, then stood and took his wife’s hand. “Come on, then,” he said. “Let’s go to bed.”
    After they had climbed to the loft, Zach finished his brew, looking at the fire. He thought of his blanket still outside on the mount, then spread his cloak and stretched his long frame out on it, resting his head on his hands. He was so tired that he ached, but it was a long time before he fell asleep; when he did, he dreamed that he was lost in a snowbank, hands and feet turning blue, while needles of ice fell from the sky around him.

Two
     
    Z ACH WAS AWAKENED BY HANDS gently shaking him. He sat up quickly, startled, then recognized the face of the brewer’s wife.
    “Wake up,” she said. “The sun’s just rising.”
    Zach stretched, then stood, feeling stiff from head to toe. The fire had burnt down to ashes and the room was cold.
    “You can wash outdoors by the shed,” said the woman. “In here we keep only enough water for cooking.”
    Zach pulled his cloak over his shoulders and went out into the yard. Shallow footprints in the lightly dewed ground showed that Marson and his wife had both been out earlier. Zach bent over a barrel filled with rainwater and splashed his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, then dried with the edge of his cloak. His mount was whistling softly. He gently stroked her side, then brought her to the front of the cabin in grazing range of some scrub. He stood for a moment gazing at the surrounding woods, orange and yellow in the early morning light, then went back indoors.
    The woman was busy at the fire while Daiv and the four young children stood around her, making sleepy sounds.
    “Go and wash up, children,” she said. “And Daiv, please see to the cut on Josef’s cheek.”
    After a curious glance at Zach, Daiv herded the younger children outside, and presently the door opened again and Marson entered, holding a pail of water and some greens. “It’s bitter cold this morning,” he remarked. “Looks to be another early winter.” He inclined his head toward Zach then. “Good morning.”
    “Good morning,” said Zach.
    “We have a simple breakfast,” said Marson. “Porridge and root tea.” His tone was fairly sarcastic.
    “That’s better than I’ve had in many days,” said Zach. Then, realizing what that might portend for Evvy, he added, “I’ve been in such a hurry I haven’t taken much time for food.”
    Marson walked over to the fire to warm his hands, then looked into the kettle.
    “Hurry that up,” he said.
    The woman pushed stringy hair off her forehead with the back of her hand, then turned and looked at him. “The water is just boiling, as you can plainly see.”
    “Leave the tea to me. It’s time to prepare Evvy.”
    She didn’t answer. A few minutes later she carried the pot of porridge to the table, then without another word ascended to the loft.
    “Will you have tea?” asked Marson. Without waiting for an