Peace Talks (The Dresden Files, #16)(73)

“So what was with confronting that guy before he brought us up here?”

River Shoulders shook his head. “Lot of the Einherjaren got to Valhalla fighting my people on the war path. They remember.”

“So, the Genoskwa …”

“Our word for the war path,” River Shoulders said. “Blood on His Soul is more arrogant than most. More dangerous, too. Thinks he is the ultimate genoskwa. A paragon.” He pursed his lips and mused. “Maybe he is.”

“He’s a lot bigger than you,” I noted.

“Yeah,” River said amiably. He yawned. It was innocent and terrifying. A volleyball could fit in his mouth with room to spare. “I’m kind of a pip-squeak.”

“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.”