“I can’t do that,” the shifter replied. “You know I can’t.”
“I know nothing of the sort. I’m solving a problem for your people,” Deyvid spat. “Just let me do it and leave me be.”
“I can’t do that either,” the shifter said. “I’m afraid you’re too interesting to release back into the wild.”
Interesting. That was a dangerous word. Deyvid slammed his head backward as hard as he could, and this time he connected. The shifter, startled, dropped him as his hands flew to his nose, which was gushing blood. Before he could charge back in, Deyvid pulled another knife. The light of panic entered the shifter’s eyes as he saw Deyvid press the edge of the blade to his own neck.
“Stop,” he said, one hand stretching out in supplication. “There’s no need for that.” His voice was thick with blood but earnest too. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You hunted me down,” Deyvid snapped, anger and fear tearing at him in equal turns. “You chased me up a river. You made me face you. You threatened me with—”
“Ah, ah, ah.” The shifter tilted his head and smiled winningly. “All I did was tell you who you are. Or rather,what. You’re the one who took it as a threat, not me. That’s certainly not how I meant it.”
The little bit of hope Deyvid had left about his cover identity died. “You know what I am?”
“I can guess,” the shifter said somberly. Now that his nose was no longer bleeding, he shook his soiled hand, drops of blood spattering across the fallen leaves and loam. “High Harrier.”
Deyvid hadn’t heard those words come out of another person’s mouth for … oh, it was years now. He’d barely wanted to think them himself. Ten long years of mercenary work across thesouthern half of the continent, ten years away from his people, never catching more than a glimpse of any clansman and never one of the Windwests, never one of his own family. Ten years of careful isolation, hiding his past as best he could, and in seconds, mereseconds, this man had seen right through him.
Curiosity began to gnaw at him. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Put that blade down and I’ll tell you,” the shifter said with a winsome smile.
After a second, Deyvid dropped his arm. He hadn’t wanted to threaten that anyway. Killing himself now would be next to useless. As long as he wasn’t about to be thrown in a dungeon, he might as well play this out a bit. After all, his odds of escaping could only go up.
“Good man.” The shifter placed a hand in the center of his chest. “You have the pleasure of meeting His Highness Prince Petur Alloui, Chief of the Queen’s Guard, Premier Defender of the Realm.” His grin was somewhere between self-deprecating and lascivious. “I’m sure it’s quite an honor for you.”
All of that, hmm? No wonder he was aware of what a High Harrier was. He’d have to be well educated to even know about people like Deyvid. “It’s good to know your name,” Deyvid said formally.
The shifter brightened … no,Peturbrightened. He wasn’t a traditionally attractive man, his face too angular, his chin too strong. But there was something about him when he smiled, something undeniably alluring. The nudity didn’t hurt either. “I’d be very gratified to know your name,” he said.
“I’m sure you would,” Deyvid replied. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Or you could just tell me,” Petur prodded.
“Hmm. What will you give me for my name?”
His opponent grinned as they settled into a negotiation. “I’ll give you a dry blanket and a warm fire.”
Deyvid shook his head. “Not good enough. I could find those on my own.”
“Not soon, you can’t,” Petur said. “Or haven’t you noticed that I’m not about to let you go?”
“Well, that’s hardly gentlemanly of you,” Deyvid objected mildly.
“I might be a prince, but my sister would be the first to tell you that I’m no gentleman,” Petur replied. “What about a warm blanket, a fire, and a hot meal?”
“Getting better,” Deyvid acknowledged. “But we’re not there yet.”
“Well, I can’t just call you Silver like the villagers of Veshay do,” Petur said. “Or rather, I could, but I like to think I’m better at negotiating than a bunch of peasants. I want your real name.”
“Well, then, offer me something real,” Deyvid said, dropping the act. “Creature comforts aren’t enough. If you want me to come with you, I need to know I have a way out.”
He was surprised when Petur nodded. “I can respect that,” the prince said. “Very well. A warm blanket, a fire, a hot meal, and my personal assurance that neither I nor anyone of my troop will seek to stop you if you choose to leave. We will not abduct, abscond with, or adjudicate anything to do with you.
“I don’t want to hold you in a place where you think you’re not wanted, but Idowant the chance to convince you,” he went on, “that we could work together, far more successfully than either of us work alone.”
Deyvid tried to arch an eyebrow and was pleased to find that he pulled it off this time. “I was perfectly successful before you showed up,” he pointed out. “You’re the one who got in trouble out there, not me.”
