“No,” he said flatly, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t care how well you planned this, or how foolproof it is. Shalaman’s male. Our bargains never included males.”
“They didn’t include Winterhart, either,” Noyoki said, off-handedly.
Hadanelith went cold, then hot, then cold again. His groin flared with excitement, and he fought to get himself back under control before there were any visible signs of his interest. “Winterhart?” he said, lightly, and laughed. “And just how does she enter into this?”
That would make her his forever. He would mark her, brand her as his, and take her away from Amberdrake at the same time.
“She’ll be at the ceremony at Shalaman’s side,” Noyoki told him. “And it fits our plans very well for you to get both of them at once. Unless, of course, you don’t think you have the strength and skill to kill the King.” He frowned. “I wouldn’t have thought that of you. Or is it that you haven’t the stomach or the courage?”
“I have all of those,” Hadanelith snapped. “It’s that I’m not—there’s no—I’m not interested in men!”
Noyoki’s eyes flashed for a moment, as if something had just come clear to him. Hadanelith ignored bis expression; this was a quandary, and no mistake about it. Was it worth wasting time on the King to get Winterhart?
When the women saw their protectors going down under Hadanelith’s skilled blade, when they realized that there was no one left to defend them—there was a real thrill in that. Could he possibly manage that in this case?
“We can get you all the time of the full Eclipse to do what you want,” Kanshin said persuasively. “Think of it —coming in out of the dark like a demon, striking and bringing fear as well as death! Besides, we haven’t told you the best part yet!”
He felt his interest rising, and gave up trying to pretend otherwise. They had him, at least for the moment. He might just as well hear them out.
But he was going to do so in comfort.
He sat down again, assumed an expression of total boredom, and yawned. “All right,” he drawled, picking a tone of voice sure to infuriate both of them. “I can’t get rid of you until you get done trying to persuade me that you both aren’t fit only to be locked away, so you might just as well speak your piece.”
But they were neither infuriated nor offended, at least not openly, and Noyoki leaned forward in his chair with an eagerness that made Hadanelith think of a night-heron about to spear a fish.
“It’s very simple—” he began.
And before Noyoki was finished with the explanation, Hadanelith was giggling. This could be more fun than ever.
Nine
Skandranon spread his newly-dyed wings to dry in the hot sun, knowing he looked entirely too much like an oversized cormorant hanging its wings out to dry, and waiting for the inevitable sarcastic comments. Aubri would never be able to resist this opportunity.
“You look like a short-necked, crook-beaked, fisher-bird, old crow,” Aubri chuckled from his position atop a pile of pillows in the cool of the shaded garden. “Maybe one that ran into a rock because he wasn’t watching where he was going. I can’t wait to see the size of the trout