Chapter 2

“Thank you.” The tall man released his wrist, then bent and picked up Kelwyn’s fallen dagger, offering it back over the back of his arm, hilt first, like he was giving it over in some fancy ceremony.

Kelwyn blinked again, but took the dagger and sheathed it at his belt.

“What sort of food do you like?” The tall man smiled down at him warmly.

With an answering smile that he couldn’t help Kelwyn said, “The kind you can eat. I ain’t picky.”

“Very well, follow me.” The tall man led Kelwyn through the streets to a nearby district that was a little bit nicer than he usually ventured into by daylight, though it certainly wasn’t wealthy. He stopped at a modest pub there, saying, “I believe this will do, I recall them having generous portions,” and stepped inside with Kelwyn close at his heels.

A few moments later they were both seated at a table, which even had one of the narrow-backed avian chairs that made it easy for Kelwyn to sit down with his wings and not have to hold them awkwardly out. The tall man ordered food and small beer from a serving girl, then turned his emerald gaze on Kelwyn.

“I’m Harun,” he said with a smile. He held out his hand over the table.

“Kelwyn.” Kelwyn took it, his smaller hand engulfed by Harun’s long, strong fingers. Harun was obviously very strong, and could probably have crushed Kelwyn’s hand easily, but he merely squeezed it firmly and let go. He was dressed richly; his long tunic was indigo blue, an expensive color, and the dagger at his belt had a silver-chased hilt, in addition to his fine if still somewhat the worse for wear boots. His face was strong, square-jawed but with a slightly snubbed nose, and his hair was a magnificent mane of deep red curls barely contained in a ponytail tied with a silk ribbon. His eyes were bright green, an almost unnatural color that had Kelwyn wondering if he had a bit of elvish blood or something of that sort.

Somewhat annoyingly, Kelwyn felt a nervous flutter in the pit of his stomach, and a blush blooming on his cheeks as he realized how absurdly good-looking Harun was. Kelwyn already knew he liked guys, and if he had a type, Harun was definitely at least close to it.

“So, Kelwyn, what exactly made you decide to cut my purse?”

Kelwyn found his eyebrows going up incredulously. “What do you think? I don’t have money. You have plenty. I gotta eat, I need shoes, ain’t going to get any of that for free.”

“You don’t have parents who provide for you? Surely there are orphanages, then…”

“Hah.” Kelwyn snorted. “No, I ain’t no orphan, so orphanages are no use to me. I got parents, they just ain’t so great. Mom lives in a bottle. Dad…” He shrugged, not wanting to say anything about what his father did.

“Does he beat you, then?” Harun’s expression was sympathetic, his voice gentle. Kelwyn had the thought again that the guy would make quite the mark if he were running a con. Maybe he should try anyway, see if he could get more than just a meal out of this.

In response to the question, though, he only shrugged again. Beatings had certainly been part of it, but they hadn’t been what had finally driven him out to live on the street. He most certainly wasn’t going to discuss thatwith some stranger, though.

“There are charities, surely? Somewhere you could go? I know the Queen has funded some children’s programs.”

“Oh sure. I used to get food and readin’ lessons at the temple. I liked the lessons, even. I’m too old now, though. They only take till fifteen.”

Harun blinked at him. “But…Forgive me, how old are you?”

“Sixteen. Be seventeen at midwinter.”

“I thought you were twelve! You must be joking; you can’t possibly be sixteen.”

Kelwyn bristled a little. “I ain’t human, okay? I can’t help it you’re used to everyone being tall. Avians are short, that’s how it is.”

“Forgive me.” Harun lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “I should know better than to make such an assumption. I know very well how difficult it is when people judge you by human standards.”

With a curious tilt of his head, Kelwyn said, “You ain’t human neither, then?”

“No. I am a were-cat of a particular sort.”

“Wow. You can turn into a cat, then?”

“I can indeed. At times I must, even. Fortunately, most times I am able to choose my form, for it would be difficult to live among humans if I did not have hands.” The serving girl arrived just then and set a large bowl of stew in front of each of them, along with a thick slice of buttered bread. It was fresh too, not a stale trencher. Two mugs were plunked down as well, holding the almost-water that was small beer. “Times such as this, for example,” said Harun with a smile as he picked up his spoon. “I could eat the soup without a spoon, but it would be quite undignified.”

Kelwyn laughed at the mental image of a well-groomed, upper-class man like Harun sticking his face into the bowl, but amusing at that image was, it couldn’t distract him for more than a second, he picked up his spoon and dug eagerly into his own portion.