The Duty (Play to Live: Book # 3) Read Online Free

corners of the makeshift nursery. She had some nerve, this girl, even getting the dogs involved! We really needed to take her animal-whispering talents more seriously. In future, she could become responsible for the clan's bestiary and their training, as well as public relations with non-humanoids.
    The Fallen One sat comfortably nearby in the shadow of a dwarf mallorn tree that was purring with pleasure. He'd transformed a block of marble into some kind of seat by pressing his backside into the stone, fashioning the semblance of armrests and turning the surface soft and spongy. Just think that in another thousand years or so, the discovery of a religious relic such as the Fallen One's very own portable throne could trigger a full-blown war! Should I maybe stash it away later to make sure no one came to grief from it—or on the contrary, should I keep it and fit it with a memorial plaque?
    I was already succumbing to the mood, reaching for the artifact whistle around my neck. I blew it softly, summoning Hummungus. Only too happy to leave his virtual stable, Teddy showed up straight away squinting his moist and slightly offended eyes from the sunlight.
    "I'm sorry, buddy. I had a lot on my plate," I scratched him behind his ears, then slapped his burly side. "Go walkies! Just don't hurt anyone, okay? We're all friends here."
    Strangely enough, Teddy obeyed. He looked so funny lumbering off to explore the ruins with his backside in the air. Almost alive, really. Wonder what he might become in another thousand years?
    Finally, a flustered servant girl rushed in balancing a coffee tray, her full breasts swaying tantalizingly under the weightless silk. I sniffed the air and actually caught myself licking my lips—and not at the sight of my morning coffee, either. If I ever discovered anyone trying to make money by selling virtual bras to AlterWorld ladies, I swear I'd bury him personally in the tightest coffin I could find. No one should deprive anyone of life's little pleasures.
    I thanked the blushing girl, habitually pressing a heavy gold piece into her hand. Not by way of payment, you understand, but simply to see her eyes flash with joy. They apparently needed money for some reason, and ten cents weren't going to bust the bank.
    I took my cup and headed toward the Fallen One, stumbling over the puppies busy chasing their new target's fluffy ultramarine tail.
    " Guten morgen ," I offered the lion's share of my German vocabulary, squatting myself down into the lotus pose on the soft and gentle Elven grass.
    " Guten abend to you too," the Fallen One played along without taking his gaze from his fingers that were busy kneading a lump of mithril as if it were modeling clay.
    "Pardon?"
    "I say good morning, you polyglot."
    "I see. What's that you're doing?" I nodded at the flattened mithril cake as the god pinched off a tiny bit of adamant and heaved a sigh of regret kneading it into the mithril.
    He paused, weighing in his hand what looked like a piece of tiny adamant mail the kind you wore on your armor. It was small and incredibly ancient. With the sigh of a compulsive hoarder parting with his moldy treasure, he pinched off another infinitesimal crumb adding it to the mix while stashing the remaining treasure back in his pocket.
    He cast an annoyed glare in my general direction, apparently not too appreciative of people breathing down his neck. "That's gonna be an artifact," he mumbled.
    You couldn't ruin my good mood so easily. I think I've told you already: the morning sun, a cup of coffee in your own garden to the accompaniment of children's voices—that sort of thing. So I ignored his badly concealed hint. "Don't you think the mix needs something else? A bit more adamant, maybe?"
    He shot a heavy glare which was like a cold shower to my joke. "No need to," he said with a nasty smile. "Give me your hand. Stand still, you. You're gonna like it."
    I offered him an insecure hand for a fitting—had he fashioned me a magic