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    Fortune's Favors: Adventures in the Liaden Universe®, #28
    Fortune's Favors: Adventures in the Liaden Universe®, #28
    Fortune's Favors: Adventures in the Liaden Universe®, #28
    Ebook88 pages1 hour

    Fortune's Favors: Adventures in the Liaden Universe®, #28

    By Sharon Lee and Steve Miller

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    About this ebook

    Are you feeling lucky?

    Mar Tyn eys'Ornstahl is a lucky man. His very presence can determine the fall of a card, the spin of a wheel, or whether the bread will rise or fall.

    In fact, Mar Tyn eys'Ornstahl isn't merely lucky. Mar Tyn is a Luck; a focal point for the elemental force of random event. While most people think that there is good luck and bad, Mar Tyn knows better. Luck is Luck; only the aftermath of Luck's presence can be found to be good or bad.

    Mar Tyn's Luck, for instance, has recently cost him his home, and his savings. He has only one thing left to gamble.

    And his life might not be enough.

    ALL NEW! 

    NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPinbeam Books
    Release dateApr 15, 2019
    ISBN9781948465038
    Fortune's Favors: Adventures in the Liaden Universe®, #28
    Author

    Sharon Lee

    Sharon Lee has worked with children of various ages and backgrounds, including a preschool, a local city youth bureau, and both junior and senior high youth groups. She has a bachelor’s degree in sociology and also in psychology. Sharon cares about people and wildlife. She has been an advocate in the fight against human trafficking and a help to stray and feral animals in need.

    Read more from Sharon Lee

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      Book preview

      Fortune's Favors - Sharon Lee

      COPYRIGHT PAGE

      Fortune's Favors: Adventures in the Liaden Universe® Number 28

      ––––––––

      Pinbeam Books:  www.pinbeambooks.com

      ––––––––

      This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are fiction or are used fictitiously.

      ––––––––

      Copyright © 2019 by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

      ––––––––

      Fortune's Favors and Surebleak:  Dudley Avenue and Farley Lane are original to this chapbook

      ––––––––

      Cover Design: SelfPubBookCovers.com/RLSather

      ISBN: 978-1-948465-03-8

      DEDICATION

      To Michael J. Walsh and Ian Randal Strock

      publishers and booksellers

      who help make the

      science-fictional world

      go 'round

      FORTUNE'S FAVORS

      ONE

      It was to the gayn'Urlez Hell in lower Low Port that his feet finally brought him, over the objections of most of himself.

      There were those who dismissed Low Port as a miserable pit of vicious humanity where lived predators and prey; the roles subject to reversal without notice.

      Those contended that there was nothing of value in Low Port; that it was worth the life of any honorable person to even attempt to walk such streets.

      They. . .were not wrong, those who lived in the comfort of Mid Port and the luxury of High; and who bothered to give Low Port half a thought down the course of a Standard Year.

      They were not wrong.

      But they lacked discrimination.

      It was true that there were very many bad and dangerous streets inside the uneasy boundaries of Low Port, and then –

      There were worse.

      The gayn'Urlez Gaming Hell occupied the corner of two such thoroughfares, and the best that could be said of them is that they were. . .somewhat less unsafe than the Hell itself.

      Mar Tyn eys'Ornstahl had made it a policy – insofar as he was able to make policy – not to enter gayn'Urlez, much less work there.

      Today, his feet had trampled policy, and Mar Tyn only hoped that he would survive the experience.

      So anxious was he for that outcome, in fact, that he took the extreme action of. . .arguing. . .with his feet.

      On the very corner, directly across from the most dangerous Hell in Low Port, Mar Tyn – turned to the right.

      His feet hesitated, then strode out promptly enough, even turning right at the next corner, with no prompting from him, toward the somewhat safer streets where he was at least known.

      Another might have assumed victory, just there, but Mar Tyn had lived with his feet for many years.  It thus came as no surprise when they failed to take his direction at the next corner, bearing left, rather than right, until they stopped once more across the street from Hell.

      He sighed.  That was how it was going to be, was it?

      Best to get on with it, then.

      #

      The barkeep was a thick woman with cropped grey hair and a prosthetic eye.  She gave him a glance as he approached and leaned her elbows on the bar.

      Got reg'lars on tonight, she told him, pleasant enough.  Two days down there’s a bed open, if you want to reserve in advance.  Reservation includes a drink tonight and a hour to study the layout.  The House takes six.

      Mar Tyn smiled at her over the bar.

      I'm not a pleasure-worker, he said, gently.

      She frowned.

      "What are you, then?"

      A Luck.

      She might have laughed at him; he expected it.  She might equally have accepted him at his word; most did.  Who, after all, would claim to be a Luck, if they were not?

      He did not expect her to be angry with him.

      A Luck!  Are you brain-dead?  Do you know what happened to the last Luck who worked here?

      He did not.  Not actually.  Not specifically.  He could guess, though.

      Her winner beat her, and robbed her of her share?

      The barkeep looked dire.

      Her winner followed her home, beat her, raped her, murdered her, took the money, her child – and for good measure, fired the building. 

      She paused, and took a breath, ducking her head.

      They say she was lucky to the last – no one died in the fire.

      Mar Tyn took a breath.

      Ahteya, he said.

      That earned him another hard glare, the prosthetic eye glowing red.

      You knew her?

      "No.  We – Lucks – we know. . .of each other, in a general way.  I had heard that a Luck named Ahteya had been killed –"  Rare enough; most who hired a Luck didn't care to court the ill-luck that must come with such an act, though Lucks were still regularly beaten and robbed.  Mar Tyn supposed that it was a matter of necessity.  Violence was Low Port's primary answer to hunger and want, and it could be reasoned that a Luck whose gift did not protect them was meant to be robbed.

      I hadn't heard where she'd been working, he told the barkeep.  Or that she had a child.

      Well, now you know, and I hope the knowledge improves your day.  You can leave.

      No, he said, with real regret – for her, and for him.  I can't.

      Another red glare.

      "Can't?"

      Despite appearances, I'm not a fool.  When I saw where I had come to, I tried to walk away.  With what success you see. 

      He produced an ironic bow.

      I believe the choice before us is – will you allow me to sign the book, or will I freelance?

      The color drained out of her face.

      You poach here and gayn'Urlez will break all of your bones.  Slowly.

      I understand, he told her.

      She sighed, then, hard and defeated.

      "You're certain?" she asked.

      Rarely have I been more certain, he said, and added, for the wounded look in her natural

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