The Moon's Shadow Read Free Page A

couldn’t quell the traitorous hope stirring within him. Watching Mik and the soldier, he limped across the flagstones. The ground felt like a furnace; the soles of his feet could no longer distinguish hot and cold.
    Mik ushered him through the doorway, placing himself between Eldrin and the taciturn lieutenant, who persisted in looking worried. Inside the embassy, they followed corridors of rose-hued marble veined in gold, with ceilings that arched high above their heads. Every now and then they passed a statue in a wall niche.
    When Mik stopped at a door bordered by friezes, Eldrin stayed back. He could feel his feet a little now, perhaps enough to run. But to where?
    Mik held open the door. “Would you like to come in? You can rest.”
    Eldrin meant to refuse; instead he found himself saying, “The soup…?” Images came to him, hot and savory.
    “I’ll have someone bring dinner.” Another emotion showed now in Mik. Dismay? It made no sense to Eldrin.
    Wary, full of mistrust, Eldrin entered the foyer inside. White walls surrounded him, with abstract holo-art in swirls of soft color. As he walked into a hallway beyond the foyer, his toes sunk into a bone-white carpet. Just that slight relief was too much to bear. This was an excruciatingly effective torture; even knowing what they intended, he would weep when they took this away.
    The hall ended in a living room with white walls and more of the soothing holo-art. The opposite wall consisted of a floor-to-ceiling window; beyond it, outside, paths circled gardens planted with purple blossoms. In the central flowerbed, bushes sculpted like ships sailed a sea of blue-green foliage, their bases foamed with white flowers. The beauty of the scene lied, promising peace instead of misery.
    A click came from the right. Eldrin spun around, tensing to defend himself. Mik was bending over a console by the wall, but when Eldrin moved, Mik glanced at him. Eldrin didn’t know how his expression appeared, but whatever it was, it caused Mik to stop what he was doing and straighten up.
    “I’m just contacting the dining hall,” Mik said. “That’s all.”
    Eldrin wished he could fold his arms across his chest for protection against the cold. It didn’t matter that the air was warm; the chill came from inside him. He fought down his nausea.
    When Eldrin said nothing, Mik went to work on the console again, but slowly, letting Eldrin see his every move. The boy appeared to do what he claimed, ordering food, but Eldrin had no doubt the ever-so-trusty Mik also notified his superiors that their prisoner had arrived. Their security would be monitoring this room.
    Mik turned to Eldrin, then hesitated, seeming uncertain. He motioned at a sofa across the room. “Would you like to sit?”
    Gods, yes. But Eldrin stayed put.
    “Sir?” Mik gestured, offering the couch.
    Eldrin wanted to refuse, but he knew they would play this game however they wished regardless of what he chose. He walked to the couch, more in defiance of his fear than in acceptance of Mik’s invitation. He expected an attack from behind, but he reached the sofa unharmed. He sat on one end, lowering his body with care, ready to jump up if he had to defend himself.
    Eldrin wondered when Corbal would arrive. The Xir lord often joined him for dinner, lavishing feasts on his exotic new provider. He treated Eldrin well, but as if Eldrin were a treasured art object rather than a human being. Except a collector wouldn’t touch a work of art for fear of causing damage. Corbal had no such compunctions.
    Eldrin shut away that thought. Safer to wonder who owned Mik. Although the youth wore no restraints, he had to have an Aristo owner. Of all the billions of Eubians spread across the Eubian empire, none was free except those in the three Aristo castes—Hightons, Diamonds, and Silicates—and they numbered no more than a few thousand. Most Eubian slaves were taskmakers and lived comfortable lives, some even rising to a certain