“It’s nice to see one of you in town again,” the male said as he rang up the purchase.
“Again?” Had the tribe relaxed their stance on interaction with the port, even after his disastrous previous attempt?
The shopkeeper shook his head. “After that business at Chotgor’s, I didn’t think that any of you Hothians would return.”
What business at Chotgor’s? The name sounded vaguely familiar, and he finally identified it as belonging to a well-known fight master who dealt mainly in slaves. What had he been doing on Hothrest? He longed to ask more questions, but he didn’t want to reveal his ignorance and give the merchant more reason to question him.
He shrugged. “Things change.”
“Well, I’m glad they do. Port Eyeja isn’t the same without you. And of course, I always hoped you would open up more of the planet.”
“Why?”
The male looked a little startled. “It’s a beautiful place if you don’t mind the cold.” He gestured down at his own fur with a grin. “And obviously, I don’t mind. Plus, I’ve heard rumors about some of the wonders of the planet—the great water cave and the crystal springs.”
Baralt kept his face impassive, although it took considerable effort. Before he’d left, no one would ever have considered mentioning those places to an outsider. Had things changed after all? But then again, if no Hothians were currently in Port Eyeja, it couldn’t have changed very much.
“Thank you,” he said noncommittally as he picked up a package.
“You’re welcome. I hope to see you again.” The male gave him a friendly grin, then reached over to a display of scarves behind the counter. He picked out one in an intricate floral pattern of red and gray. “Here. For your…friend. No charge.”
Baralt almost refused, but there was no guile in the merchant’s face, and he could already envision Isabel wearing the scarf. He dipped his head.
“Thank you. I am sure that he will be most appreciative.”
He suspected that the other male was not remotely fooled by the pronoun, but they kept up the pretense.
Even though he was in a hurry to return to the ship, he chose a different path back, inspecting his surroundings curiously. Port Eyeja had grown considerably since he’d left, and just as in his time, he did not see any other Hothians on the street. But the shopkeeper’s words had indicated that was unusual. Had there been another tragedy?
The familiar feeling of guilt accompanied him back to the ship, but it was forgotten as soon as he saw Isabel waiting for him.
Chapter Nineteen
Izzie shivered as she followed in Baralt’s footsteps. It was not so much because she was cold—the clothing he had provided kept her toasty warm—but the utter silence of the frozen landscape. The only sound was the endless wind sweeping across the snow. She threw a quick look back over her shoulder, but the port was already out of sight, and no doubt Captain Glasach was long gone. There was no place she wanted to be other than with Baralt, but it was still disconcerting to realize she was stranded on this hostile-looking planet.
Well, not entirely hostile. It really did have a strange beauty all its own, but it was a very different one than she was used to seeing. They were crossing the frozen tundra, heading for a distant mountain range that Baralt had pointed out. The mountains did not seem to be getting any closer, and she wondered how long the journey would take. Baralt was in the lead, tramping down the snow to make it easier for her to walk, but it was still hard going. Running back and forth between the diner and her classes had not prepared her for this level of exercise, she thought ruefully.
She was too busy watching her feet and contemplating her lost life to avoid running into Baralt’s back when he came to a sudden halt in front of her.
“What’s the matter?” she whispered. With the emptiness surrounding them, she found herself hesitant to raise her voice and disturb the vast quiet.
“Sarlags,” he replied, equally quietly. “If I can capture one, we can ride the rest of the way.”
Riding sounded awfully appealing, but what did he mean by “sarlag”?
“What’s a sarlag?”
“They are.”
He pointed a finger, but it took Izzie several minutes to realize that the white lumps of snow he was pointing to were actually animals. They bore a startling resemblance to white buffalo with their heavy, shaggy heads, but they had four enormous horns, and they were massive.
“You’re going to capture one of those?” she asked warily. “Are they domesticated?”
He flashed her that fierce grin. “Not exactly.”
He led her over to a mound of snow-covered boulders that looked remarkably similar to the animals he was about to hunt. “You wait here. Just in case they decide to stampede.”
“Stampede?”
But he was already gone.
After a brief hesitation, she peeked cautiously around the edge of the boulders, but even in that short amount of time, Baralt was almost halfway to the herd. His white fur blended in with the snowy surroundings to the point where he was almost invisible. Rather than making a direct approach, he was headed to the far side of the herd. She wondered why until she realized the wind was coming from the other direction. He was making sure that they didn’t detect his scent.
He prowled along the edge of the herd, still a reasonable distance away, then sprang into action, moving with incredible speed. If he had grown up here, no wonder he was so fast in the arena. She didn’t even have a chance to blink before he leaped up on one of the larger animals. It immediately bellowed, throwing its head back and swinging
