Hounded [Wild Hunt Series: 2]

20: Which

His tongue darted between his teeth, rolled over as if about to speak and then his lips closed over the sight- a nonverbal 'yes' if I'd ever seen one.

"And if you need me knocked out, your friends are likely far from call. So it's just you and I."

"Maybe," he said, and chewed the cooling chicken. "You might have time. You might also have been lead down a lie of your own creation. What will you do?"

I had nothing to chew but my lip. "You know things."

He nodded. "I know things."

The road was long. There were places to hide and escape. And a reward, which meant the King at least was not close to capture. I stroked the back of Shail's sun-warmed ear. "What are you?" I asked.

"Demons," the peddler began, "are a single species in the grand wheel of life. And as every other thing is wont to do, they come from something else- and they are better than what came before, stronger, faster, more intelligent and adaptable. Demons are Darwinian. Demons are conquerors. Demons are what they are because someone figure out one of life's many tricks. They haven't always ruled this land, and neither has the Witch."

"Where does the Witch live?"

"Deep within the forest, as all proper witches should."

He needed time. I needed answers. He was smiling and eating chicken. Behind us, one of the sloth bears uprooted a bush. It grunted and grumbled as its partner's long tongue wrapped around a branch. The cart rattled with chimes as the two shouldered one another. Shail's ear flicked toward them, but his eyes were on the chicken.

"As a gesture of goodwill," I said abruptly. "Put the rest of your meal in the fire right now."

"But I'm starving."

"You can't stop me from walking," I said, getting to my feet. "And I won't let you impair my cat."

At once the peddler tore off another strip of meat to eat, and then, making sure to maintain eye contact with me, dropped the remainder on the ground and rolled it into the flames. Shail gave a pouty hiss and turned his head on his paws to watch the bears.

"If you want information, it will cost you." he said with the first sour note I'd heard in his voice. "You are correct, I am a listener. I am also poor and do not act freely. The clothes, I consider I a gift to the recognized Queen, but that is generous enough from a pauper."

"I don't have anything to give you," I told him.

His dark eyes were appraising. "You have a few things. The cat, for one."

"The cat?" I glanced to Shail. He was breathing deeply and watching the bears. "Absolutely not."

"He's worth quite a bit. Very intelligent animal. I could use a better guardian in my old age. Watching the cart with those two is getting to be a bit difficult. For the cat, I might even tell you where your shall we say, lesser, husband might be headed."

I shook my head. "Absolutely not. What else?"

He scratched a patch of hoary stubble. "I'd like my life."

"Are you going to tell the Witch or the King or both where I am?"

"Why else would I ask for my life, My Queen?"

I hesitated. "I f I spare you, you'll tell me where Prince Chiro has gone?"

"Yes."

"What if I just kill you anyway?"

"As you see, I am a listener. I've heard many stories about our queen. Cold hands, warm heart. I trust you to keep your word." He rubbed his greasy palms together and offered one. "So shall we agree?"