Peace Talks (The Dresden Files 16)

“Well, I know that was my first thought when I first saw you.”

He grinned. That also was terrifying. But I was starting to get accustomed to it. “You not real used to talking to people taller than you, are you?”

“Probably some truth to that,” I said. “How you feeling?”

“Better,” he said. “Listens-to-Wind is a good kid, was helping shield me from all that”—he lifted a hand and flicked it around the side of his head, as if having difficulty putting a concept into words —“noise. But he’s got duties of his own tonight.”

A good kid?

“How old are you, exactly?” I asked.

River Shoulders put on a serious expression, exaggerated his northern, Native American accent, and said, “Many moons.” He shrugged, returning to his usual tone. “Tough to keep track sometimes. Was born on the walk across the ice. Not much food at first. Probably why I grew up puny. Figure I’m about middle age.”

Which, presumably, made him approximately the same age as the tale of Beowulf. That made him better than a thousand years old. Minimum.

No wonder he could do things with magic I’d never seen before.

“You know what, Hoss Dresden?”

“What?”

“You always treated me pretty good. Even when you were scared. Takes courage to do that to someone so different from you.”

“Not so hard to be polite to someone who can punch me to the moon.”

“Your personal history says otherwise,” River Shoulders said, his tone gently teasing. “You pretty good about defying folk who need defying. And you’re getting better about figuring out who those folk are. Listens-to-Wind says you had a tough childhood.”

“Lot of people do,” I said. “I was lucky to get a good teacher. Don’t know about how much courage I have.”

“Seem to have a bit,” he replied. “Now, courage ain’t everything. But you build everything else on it.” He eyed me, and his features were both troubled and resolved, the expression of someone who had made a hard decision. “Sometime, you want to learn more, come find me.”

“Should I blast calls and pound my staff on trees?” I asked lightly.

His eyes sparkled far back under his brows. “Maybe give my woman a call,” he said. “Be quicker. And a little less silly-looking.”

I frowned and said, “You’re serious.”

“Listens-to-Wind says you’re a good investment. Just got some rough edges and need to learn more. Especially with that thing Mab hung on your shoulders.”

I frowned. “Listens-to-Wind made an offer like that, too.”

“Sure,” River said. “But I taught him. And he’s just about gotten to the end of his path.” He looked uncomfortable. “Lot of the wizards who matter are near the end. Hanging on hard.”

I tilted my head at him. “Why?”

“Not the right person, time, or place to tell you, starborn.”

I pursed my lips. “Six hundred and sixty-six years,” I said experimentally.

River’s craggy brows rose, itself a feat of superhuman strength. “Huh,” he said. “You learned some things.”

“I learned that,” I said.

“We pretty close to that time,” he said. “Kinda promised not to tell you anything. Sucks. Necessary. But if I was you, I’d think hard about taking my offer.” River’s eyes flickered toward the door, and he started putting his spectacles carefully back on. “Someone coming.”

It was a good ten seconds before I heard the whisper of light steps on stone, and then Molly swept into the room. The Winter Lady wore an opalescent formfitting gown that very heavily emphasized that she was my best friend’s daughter and that I ought not to notice that about her, dammit.

“Harry,” she said, and then paused, eyeing River Shoulders. “Uh, that is, Harry Dresden.”

River Shoulders went from sitting down to standing in a light, liquid motion. “You want to insult me, you going to have to try something worse than calling me hairy, Miss Lady Winter,” he said politely, and bowed a little at the waist. “If you will excuse me. Miss. Hoss.”

“Good talk,” I said. “Next time, a fire and steaks.”

River Shoulders nodded and moved out of the room in long, silent, relaxed strides that carried him at about the same pace as me when I went jogging.

Molly waited until he had left and said, “What the hell, Harry? What are you doing up here?”

“Liaising,” I said. “Listens-to-Wind asked me to keep an eye out for him.”

“Well, I need you to do it some more,” she said. “The fiddler decided he liked the look of Warden Yoshimo and tried to lay a whammy on her.”

I stood up. “Hell’s bells. Did it work?”

“Not for long. But it should be dealt with openly, in front of everyone, by you.”

Right. As Mab’s nominal enforcer, I was the guy she would send to, well, enforce the Accords, unless the infraction had been committed by someone out of my league.

“Okay,” I said. “Show me.”

She looked pointedly at my arm. I offered it to her, and we started back down to the main hall. “Molls, I talked to your dad today.”

“Oh?” she asked, her tone utterly neutral.

“He says you haven’t been home to visit in a while.”

She glanced surreptitiously at me. “I’ve been busy. There’s been no time.”

I stopped and perforce she stopped with me. I frowned at her and said, “Kid. Make time.”

Her voice turned sharper. “You aren’t my father, Harry. You aren’t my mentor anymore, either.”

“No,” I said agreeably. “But I am your friend.”

“We can talk about this later,” she said, tugging my arm.

I didn’t budge. “Now seems to be a good time. Your family misses you. And you owe them better than this, Molls.”

“ Harry …”

“Just tell me you’ll visit. The word of the Winter Lady is good.”

“Harry, I can’t,” she said.

“Why not?”

She fretted her lower lip. “It’s complicated.”

“Going to Sunday dinner isn’t complicated.” I turned to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve got something precious. You’ve got a family. And they love you. And you’re probably going to live for a very long time without them. It’s idiotic to miss the chance to be with them while you can.”

She looked away from me, and tears made her eyes glisten.

“Come on,” I said, gently. “Don’t get all famous and forget the people you started with, faerie princess. They’ve got to be proud to have a celebrity in the family.”

Molly closed her eyes entirely as the tears fell.

Then she said, in a tiny voice, “They don’t know.”

I blinked exaggeratedly. “What?”

“I … I haven’t told them. About being the Winter Lady.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I know. Stars and stones, Molls, what were you thinking?”

She shook her head. “It’s … They’re going to see it as a bargain made with dark powers. If they found out …”