Emberhawk - Jamie Foley Page 0,84
three of them. Its hard skin protected hundreds of seed pockets inside, each one with its own burst of tangy juice.
“Yeah, Ryon.” Kira’s voice was flat. “I’d love some jomoco. Where do you get them, pray tell?”
The charm of Ryon’s innocent smile didn’t work on her this time. He must have known it, because he turned and slung his backpack onto the counter. “I’ve got something better.” He pulled out Kira’s d’hakka silk foot-cast and slid it across to Monty.
By the tails! Kira stared in disbelief. He kept that?
“Whoa!” Monty boomed, but his expression was the opposite of Kira’s disgust. He examined the floppy mass as if it were a gemstone. “Is this real?”
“Absolutely.” Ryon rested his elbows on the counter. “What’s it worth to you?”
Monty’s fingers stroked the silk, turning it on the counter and squinting at its texture. “Well, it’s got some damage on the bottom.” He scratched his chin. “I can do four hundred rupero.”
Kira had no idea how much four hundred rupero amounted to, but it sure sounded like a lot. About three hundred and ninety-nine too many for a revolting, used foot-cast.
Ryon snorted. “This is at least two pounds of d’hakka silk. You think I don’t know what this would retail for?”
Monty pursed his lips. “Okay, five hundred, but no more. It smells like the backside of a slophoof!”
Kira winced. It wasn’t that bad . . .
“Six hundred or I’m going to Sharkhide,” Ryon said.
Monty recoiled as if Ryon had backhanded him. “Why do you treat me this way, friend? A man has to make a living—”
“Agreed. You don’t think you could make a good profit at six hundred?”
Kira wondered how much that whole d’hakka nest full of silk would be worth. Maybe one day if she perfected that big game trap . . . No. No way.
When Monty’s round face hardened, Ryon reached into his pack and placed a handful of sagging orange flowers next to the purple silk. “Here, I’ll make it easy on you. Fresh sunburst, straight from the river.”
Monty pursed his lips. “I wouldn’t put up with you if you didn’t bring in the best stuff, you know.” He stretched a hand over the goods, his palm facing up.
Ryon placed his hand over the merchant’s. “Always a pleasure.”
A sigh lifted from Monty as he waddled through a door behind the counter.
Kira couldn’t take her eyes off of the cast. “I can’t believe you kept that!” she whispered.
Ryon shrugged. “The military doesn’t pay that well.”
“Unbelievable.” Kira wrinkled her nose. “It’s technically mine, you know.”
“You technically took it off and said you never wanted to see it again. I’m just making your wish come true.”
Kira grumbled. “After all I went through—”
“Are you giving this balemba a hard time?” Monty returned with a leather coin purse. It jingled when he set it on the counter and spilled it open. Dozens of silver coins—each marked with a five-pointed star, the symbol of the Tribal Alliance—had various sizes and shapes, but they all reminded Kira of the melted stone she’d seen at the Emberhawk pyramid. Some of them looked more like poured wax seals than the Malaano Empire coins she’d seen.
“You’re a married man, Monty.” Ryon folded his backpack’s flap closed and slung it back onto his shoulders.
Monty selected several coins and pushed them across the counter. “Does that mean I can’t speak truth?” He winked at Kira.
She flushed and leaned away. What on beautiful Alani does that mean? Every Phoeran compliment should have already been in her vocabulary. Is it some slang like “babe” or something?
Ryon swept his hand across the counter until the coins fell into his other hand. “And here I thought you weren’t a schmoozer like Sharkhide . . .” He clicked his tongue and turned for the exit.
“Don’t ever mention that name in my place again, you rascal!” Monty snarled. “And bring me some jomoco next time!”
Ryon laughed as he held the door open for Kira. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Kira was tempted to lecture him about stealing jomoco from the orchard, but she had more pressing concerns at the moment. She held out an open hand. “Where’s my half?”
Ryon looked down at her like she’d asked where her own feet were. “Half? I’m the one who brought it and brokered the deal.”
“You’d deny a balemba like me?” She smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes.
It was Ryon’s turn to redden, which he failed to hide with a roll of his eyes. A trio of coins appeared in his palm. “Look,