Austin had given him safe passage, but as far as I was concerned, I’d just agreed to let him eat some flowers and move along. I hadn’t realized we’d struck a deal for safe travel.
But I pressed my lips together and lifted my eyebrows, listening. Basajaun had strangely specific rules regarding territory and trading and life in general, and I knew hardly any of them. Given the basajaun ruthlessly killed the people who broke those rules, I figured it best to see what was on his mind.
“I have found a few trespassers on my mountain,” the basajaun said as Ulric and Jasper came out of the back door. Mr. Tom must’ve told them we had company. I wondered why he hadn’t bothered with Cedric.
“Don’t you get a lot of hikers this time of the year?” I asked.
“Trespassers meaning magical people who know the rules of established territories and don’t follow them,” Austin said.
“Yes. You are both correct. I get a lot of hikers, who are such fun to slowly sneak up on in the trees, stepping out at the right time so as to give them an incredible fright. Why, just the other day—”
“All due respect, Mr. Basajaun, but I’ve had a very long day.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “What about those trespassers?”
“Yes, of course. I apologize. My zeal for interacting with the public gets the better of me.” The basajaun adjusted his strained construction vest, which was surely cutting off the blood flow to his armpits. “Shifters have been using my mountain as a highway of sorts. I came upon the trails a week or so ago. At first it was just a single line over the mountain. I didn’t think much of it. It is a large mountain, and those not of this area do not realize it is my territory. But over the last couple days, they have come and gone freely. They have altered their course, and I can only assume it is because they have scented me. Instead of following my scent trail back to me and trading for passage, they are attempting to circumvent my authority. Yesterday, I scented what I think was a mage among them—”
“I’ve never deciphered mages to have a particular scent,” Austin said.
“Mages themselves smell like typical humans, yes, but if you pay attention, you can smell the magic on them. They do magic so often that it leaves a lingering smell, faint in some, strong in those more powerful. It is a spicy sort of smell that snaps at your nose.” He paused for a moment, studying Austin as Austin studied him. “I can lead you to the trail. Point out the flavor.”
Austin nodded. “I’d be obliged. Name your terms.”
I turned my lips downward, impressed. Austin clearly knew how to work with a basajaun.
“If you identify the trespassers who have been using my mountain,” the basajaun said, “I would ask that you turn the information over.”
“Done.” Austin didn’t reach out to shake hands, and the basajaun didn’t seem to expect it.
I swallowed, worry rising through me. Austin had told me we had time, but if there were a few shifters and they were already bringing mages in…
“Was the mage powerful, or…” I asked, and my voice wavered.
The basajaun’s light brown eyes held mine. He hadn’t struck me as particularly intelligent in our previous dealings, but maybe he had a different kind of smarts. From the emotions flickering through his eyes—excitement, humor, compassion, protectiveness—I gathered that he sensed my fear and was deciding which way to lean with it. I hoped he didn’t opt for a practical joke…
He turned just slightly, giving me his full attention. “I remember that you said you were new to Ivy House. You are just a cub. Cubs must be protected and nurtured. They must be taught the ways. It is forbidden to attack one so new.” He nodded. “Yes, I will help. If you will allow me a daily flower break, I will help you with this threat.”
“Ulric, go get Edgar,” I said quickly. I was not about to pass up the chance of recruiting such a fearsome ally, but I had promised that Edgar could be present the next time I traded with his flowers.
“The magical worker who came over the mountain had a fair bit of power, yes,” the basajaun said as Ulric took off running. “I do not know about the shifters. I cannot smell their power level.”
“With shifters, it’s usually determined by the animal—and they travel in accordance with their rank, the strongest usually at the back and the weakest in the middle,” Austin said. “I can show you, if you’ll return the favor and let me know if you find out anything about who’s crossing your mountain in the direction of my growing territory.”
“It is a trade.” The basajaun nodded.