Read With Stars Underfoot (Adventures in the Liaden Universe®) for Free Online

last kind: It was a square dance, with he and Villy facing off as sides one and two, while Shan and Priscilla taking up the third side and the fourth.
      The slower pace was more than balanced by a complex, cumulative pattern of exchanges with one's partner, thus: step forward, touch right hands, step back/step forward, touch right hands, then left, step back—and so on, until the tune turned on itself and one began to subtract a gesture at the exchange, and each dancer was at last back in their place, having regained all that had been given.
      The music stopped the instant the second partner pair fell back into place. There was a moment of tension, as if the dancers awaited another phrase from the musicians— then laughter, and light applause. Their little square evaporated, Pat Rin moving with determination toward the refreshment table, Shan and Priscilla amiably keeping pace. He was sincerely thirsty now, and thinking in terms of a glass of a cool glass of juice.
      "Do you find the party agreeable?" he asked Priscilla.
      "Perfectly agreeable," she said, with a seriousness that was belied by the glimmer of a smile in her eyes. "Ms. Audrey said that she meant to host the dance of the winter."
      "Which we thought would be no great challenge." Shan continued. "There being so few dances held in the winter. Or the summer. Or the spring, come to belabor it."
      Pat Rin considered him. "If you find a lack, cousin, you might host a ball or two yourself."
      "Well, I might," Shan allowed. "If it weren't for the fact that the Delm has some foolish notion in his head about bringing Surebleak up to a mid-tier spaceport, with a timetable of roughly right now . Perhaps he's spoken to you on the subject?"
      "He has," Pat Rin said, "and I must say that the Delm and I are as one on the matter."
      "Well, then, what choice have I—a mere master trader!—commanded as I am by both the Delm of Korval and the Boss of Surebleak? Duty, as always, must bow before pleasure, and so it is that tomorrow I regretfully shake the snow of Surebleak from my boots and betake myself to Terran Trade Commission headquarters, there to enlist their aid in the Delm's necessity. There will be no dances held at yos'Galan's house—had we a house, which of course, we don't—until my task is done. Unless, Priscilla, you would care to host a ball or six while I'm gone?"
      "I thought I'd go with you, instead," his lifemate replied in her calm deep voice. "To keep you and Padi out of trouble."
      This was news. Pat Rin looked up. "Your heir accompanies you on this mission?"
      Shan grinned, silver eyes glinting. "Now, pity me, truly. Bearding the Terran Guild is as nothing when measured against the prospect of introducing one's daughter to the intricacies—not to say the politics—of trade."
      They had reached the refreshment table. Pat Rin poured wine for the two of them, and a glass of cider for himself. He then inclined his head as Shan moved off to answer a hail from Portmaster Liu—and again a moment later as Priscilla was called over to join Thera Calhoon, Penn's lady wife.
      Momentarily alone, Pat Rin sighed, had another sip of cider, and closed his eyes. Now that he had extricated himself from dancing, the band was—of course!—playing smooth and undemanding strolling music, the voice of the omnichora somewhat stronger than it had been previously.
      Opening his eyes, Pat Rin looked out over the crowded dance floor. Uncle Daav was dancing with Natesa, Nova with Clonak ter'Meulen, and Villy with Etienne Borden. He sipped more cider and reminded himself that it was a boon to be warm in the depths of Surebleak's winter.
      "Hey, there, Boss." Miri's cheerful voice interrupted his reverie. "Feeling OK?"
      He considered her gravely, one eyebrow up, which only widened her grin.
      "You look