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one he would use in current conditions; the wolf-man felt like something ancient, almost forgotten—even by himself.   Either way, she was not appeased.   "What are you?"
    He rubbed his chin and looked past her, as if considering the matter.   "What am I not?   I'm not human, if that's what you're asking."
    She gave him a pointed stare, and he laughed.   "Fine.   I am a mercenary like yourself.   Is that an acceptable answer?"
    His answer rang with truth, but considering it merely reminded her of his lie.    
    "You have not been honest with me."   The barrels of her guns rose to punctuate her statement.   "You know what the Phoenix Well is, if not its location."   She had gleaned that much from the flash on the iceberg.
    "True."   The newcomer nodded, and then shrugged, the motion easy and casual.   "But I need your help.   It seems that we have been assigned to the same prey, only I doubt I'd be able to handle it."
    "And why, pray tell, would I help you?"
    "Actually, I'd be helping you.   The terms of my contract—" He paused, taking another drag of his cigarette, "merely state the creature has to be dead.   It says nothing of who must kill it.   But he, well, it is very powerful, and very crafty besides, and I bet you could use the backup."
    She bristled at his words.   "I can handle it."
    He laughed and his hazel eyes glinted.   "Big words, when you don’t even know what it is that you'd be fighting."
    "I need no help."   She stroked Bluot once before backing up toward the door.   "I should check on the Mademoiselle.   She should be awake by now."
    "I doubt it," said Laufeyson.   The corners of his lips twitched as he suppressed a smile.
    "And why is that?"   Her dark eyes flashed once with challenge.
    He waved airily, dissipating the light cloud of smoke.   "You were not in my head for more than a few seconds."   How did he know— he waved a wand in the Mademoiselle's direction.
    "I have been to her Archives, once.   They span miles and require at least a half day to walk from one end to the other.   If she didn't have such complete knowledge of the volumes contained within, it would take her a lifetime to find anything."
    She sucked on her top teeth.   "I don't think I quite understand."   What is he getting at, here?
    "How long were you in there, floating in the ocean of my mind?   Hours?   Days?"
    As if I'm going to tell you.
    "For me and our four-legged friend—" Alsvior snorted at the trite reference. "The time barely paused.   Given how long the Mademoiselle's search will be, I doubt she is finished.   There are many references to the Phoenix Well throughout lore, but few provide any specific information regarding its location.   She will have to pull countless volumes and eliminate those that are dead ends or mere fabrications in an effort to find the only tome with the right information."
    He pulled a small book out from inside of his jacket.   It was dusty, battered, with a yellowing to the pages that indicated its age.   "And even then, she will not find it.   This is the only one.   Now, will you assist me?"
    De la Roca felt like she was being torn in half.   If Laufeyson spoke the truth—a big if, although he struck her as a confident man—then there was no other way to access the Phoenix Well but to go with him.   "I will listen to what you have to say, but we cannot leave until the Mademoiselle returns.   I have already agreed to protect her."
    "An honorable demon.   How quaint."   His words dripped scorn, but De la Roca could detect something else underneath the barbs.   What is it?
    "Fine, then.   Follow me in, there is much to discuss."   Without waiting for a response, he forced his way into the small house.   "By the way, my name is—"
    "Laufeyson."   The flash of surprise in his eyes gave her a hint of pleasure.

 
    Ten
     

     
    " T he Phoenix Well is not too far from here."   Laufeyson stretched his arms upward, his shirt bunching and