“Stop!”
Neifion smirked, rising to stand on the surface once more. “Thought so.” He spun the lump of iron pyrite on a fingertip, making the golden facets catch the light. “Though why you’d want something that feels like iron’s less successful step-cousin, I have no idea. What is it, anyway?”
“Mine,” Aodhan snapped. He raised his wand, leveling it at the water horse. “Return it. Now.”
“Or what, exactly?” Neifion cast an exaggerated glance down at the water under his feet. “Lake’s pretty deep here. Lots of silt at the bottom, too. You blast me into droplets, you’re going to be spending hours sifting through sludge.”
The prospect, Aodhan had to admit, was not appealing. He clenched his jaw, letting his wand drop a fraction. “What do you want, Neifion?”
“A willing woman with strong hands and clear eyes,” Neifion said promptly. He arched an eyebrow. “But since you fail all those criteria, I’ll settle for entertainment. Want to tell me why you’re so eager to get this thing back?”
“It’s a long story. For Herne’s sake, just hand it over. I don’t have time for this.”
“Well, you don’t have your rock, either.” Neifion settled onto the surface of the water, leaning back on his elbows and stretching out his legs as though lounging on a sunny lawn. “Let’s do a deal. This stone for your story. Go on. Tell me everything.”
For want of a better option, Aodhan did. He tried to give just the bare facts, but Neifion’s constant interruptions of “Wait, why would you be so stupid?” and “But what did she think?” made it impossible to provide any form of condensed summary. Without really intending to, Aodhan found himself telling the kelpie everything.
Nearly everything, that is. He would rather boil the lake and jump into it headfirst than relate any of the more intimate events, but to his surprise he found that he wanted to talk about his bond with Cathy. Putting all those irrational, contradictory feelings into words seemed to clarify his thoughts; like writing down a spell, turning abstract theory into precise runes. It felt good to tell someone what had happened, even if that someone was an irritating kelpie with no respect for privacy.
When he’d ground to a halt at last, Neifion just stared at him for a moment, as though he didn’t believe a word of it. The water horse shook his head.
“See, this is exactly why you need to not threaten to insert your wand into the intimate orifices of everyone who dares to cross your path,” Neifion said, a tinge of reproach in his tone. “So that you have friends who’ll tell you when you’re being an idiot. You’re being an idiot, by the way.”
Aodhan glared at the kelpie. “We aren’t friends.”
“You do not consider me to be a friend,” Neifion corrected. “Fortunately for you, the reverse isn’t true. Don’t take that as a compliment on your sparkling personality and winning manners. I’m just a naturally friendly person.”
Aodhan folded his arms. “You’re a kelpie. If people enjoy your company, it’s because you’re supernaturally charming. And it doesn’t work on me.”
“That’s why I like you.” Neifion spun the iron pyrite again, watching the sparkling reflections with contemplative air. “Of course, if we were real friends, I would be beating you over the head with this about now.”
“You have a unique definition of the word ‘friendship.’”
“Naturally.” Neifion mouth quirked in a wry, charming smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “As you point out, I’m a kelpie. I don’t have real friends. Just temporary ones.”
Aodhan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are we even having this conversation?”
“Because I’m an irredeemable optimist.” Neifion idly tossed the chunk of rock from hand to hand like a child playing with a ball. “Though I’m beginning to think it’s impossible to knock any sense through your thick skull.”
“Fortunately for you, that’s not your problem. We had a deal. I’ve fulfilled my end.” Aodhan held out his hand for the iron pyrite. “Hand it over.”
Neifion didn’t. “Let’s say I do. You take it and go do your ritual and… then what?”
“Then the bond breaks, and I’m free. Haven’t you been listening?”
“Oh yes.” Neifion let out an aggrieved sigh. “You’ve said a great many words, and none of them have been the right one. Put that giant brain to work and think, Aodhan. You’ve told me all about your lady, but you haven’t once said what she is to you.”
“What are you babbling about? I told you that she’s my knight.”
“Yes, and you’ve made it abundantly clear how much that unnerves you.” Neifion rolled his eyes. “Moon knows why. Oh, how awful to have a sacred connection to a beautiful sorceress. My, what a burden it must be, to have enough power to go toe-to-toe with a high sidhe prince. How very terrible for you.”
“It is terrible,” he snapped, nettled. He gestured at the fine silver chain wound around Neifion’s neck. “Herne’s balls, you’re a kelpie, you of all creatures should understand this. What would you do if someone stole your bridle?”
“Oh, bargain and cheat and do whatever it took to get it back, of course.” All flippancy disappeared from Neifion’s tone. “But if I found the right woman? If I met someone like your lady? I’d pull it off my neck and press it into her hands. I would get down on my knees and beg her to take it. How could she trust me otherwise?”
Aodhan blinked, startled by the intensity in the words. Before he could muster a response, the kelpie shrugged, all easy charm once more.
“But we’re talking about you, not me,” Neifion continued. “Yes, she’s your knight. What else is she?”