I put two and two together. "That's why you were at Gerald's."

"One of our human contacts saw the listing and brought it to our attention. We thought it  -  what is the phrase?  -  a long shot, but worth investigating."

"Maybe the Svarestri thought the same, and the mage was their contact."

"Unlikely. They despise humans, even magical ones. And they know little about your world, which they frequent only rarely. If he was working for anyone, it would be the Alorestri. Of all our people, they have the most contact with humans."

"Alorestri?" All these Fey names were starting to get confusing, and the slow strokes he was making along my arch weren't helping.

"The Green Fey, as they are commonly known, because their livery is green and white," he explained. "The Svarestri, meaning the Black Fey, wear black and silver in battle. My people are commonly called the Blarestri, because our colors are blue and gold. Our real names, of course, are never used."

That, at least, I understood. Names carried power, and I'd heard rumors that the Fey never told anyone theirs for fear it would strengthen any spells used against them. But something was bugging me. "Then you were thinking about the Svarestri at the auction?"

"No. I assure you, I think about them as little as possible."

"I wasn't thinking about them, either," I told him quietly.

He just looked at me for a second, then his eyes widened. "It was the mage who opened the portal; his thoughts must have determined where we were sent."

I finished the thought for him. "And if he was working for the Alorestri, why was he thinking about the Svarestri when he activated the rune?"

He clenched his jaw. "I must get it back! We would use it as a deterrent, but I do not trust the Svarestri to do the same!"

"How do we get back, if the rune is on the other side of the portal?" Despite Sebastian's interest, I thought my chances would be better back home. Seb would prefer to take me alive, so he could sell me to his damned Harvesters. The Fey didn't seem to have that handicap. And I definitely didn't want to get stuck in the middle of one of their wars.

"That will depend on where we are. The Alorestri try to maintain good relations with everyone. Their lands ran alongside the border with the Dark Fey and they need troops from all of us if they are to hold it. If we can make it into their lands, I should be able to persuade them to let us use one of their portals."

"And if we aren't near the border?"

"Let's hope we are."

I nodded and tried to focus on something other than the interest in his eyes. He was clearly examining my face and seemed to like what he saw. I could only assume he had peculiar tastes, since my hair was frizzing into a big red ball as it dried, and my dress was torn and muddy. But he wasn't looking away even as he saw me recognize his interest for what it was. A particularly charming smile lit up not only his features, but also his eyes.

"I keep thinking of you as 'that beautiful redhead who landed me in so much trouble,' but it's a bit of a mouthful. What should I call you?"

I blinked in surprise, both at the unfairness of the accusation, and at the compliment. I also had no idea what to say. Normally, when dealing with humans the Fey use a false name or a title. Anything personal is reserved for those they hold a lot more intimate. I wasn't sure I wanted to be on that kind of footing with him, but he could hardly call me "hey you" for what might be a long trip. And I didn't feel like making something up and then trying to remember to answer to it.

"I'm Claire," I finally said, throwing caution to the wind.

He nodded thoughtfully. "And if I may ask,' what does that mean?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I never looked it up."

He arched a brow. "You bear a name," he said slowly, "and do not know what it means?"

"A lot of people do."

"Not in Faerie."

"So what's yours?"

"That is a very personal question among the Fey. It is better to ask what people call one. It's considered more polite, as it doesn't directly ask for a personal name."

"Okay, what do people call you?"

"Geisli when I was a child  -  it means sunbeam," he explained, "or sometimes Haddi, because they said I had too much hair. Asmundir is often used at court, because it is indicative of my function as protector of the people. Alarr means general, but I have never yet led an army in battle so it's somewhat misleading. I believe Father gave it to me to impress the Svarestri. And sometimes I'm referred to as Huitserkir, because my armor is white and gold  -  "

"What do you like to be called?" I asked, desperate to get away from the warm press of his fingers. The touch was light, but a lot more disturbing than it should have been. And he was right  -  he talked too much.

He looked puzzled. "Others give us our names."

"Then you don't care?"

"I didn't say that." He thought about it for a ridiculously long time. "Some of my shield brothers gifted me with the name Heidar," he finally said. "It means 'bright lord.' They say my hair is easy to see in battle."

"Okay. Heidar it is, then." I felt like I'd won some sort of major victory, just getting his name. Now maybe he'd let me go.

"I am glad to be known to you, Claire," he said, sounding formal all of a sudden. Then strong arms circled me and a warm mouth closed over mine.

Or maybe not.

The kiss started out tender and brain-meltingly sweet, but didn't stay that way. That was mainly my fault. My hands came up, one grabbing Heidar's shoulder, the other curling around the back of his neck, threading its way through his hair and pulling him close. My tongue darted desperately against his as I thoughtlessly drove the kiss deep. He responded after a moment's startled hesitation, clasping me gently, while running a hand down my bare back to cup one of my hips. His hands on my body felt shockingly, achingly good, and he tasted sweet  -  of spices and some indefinable sunny flavor. I couldn't get enough of the taste, the scent, the feel of him  -  it was like I was drunk on it.

When we broke apart for air, I found my tongue tracing the vein throbbing in his neck. I had somehow ended up on his lap, my thighs straddling his, and I could feel him firming against me. Someone made a soft exclamation of need and the sound broke through a little of my haze. I stared at him, wide-eyed and suddenly frightened. I felt vulnerable  -  I needed this too much and it worried what little part of my mind was still capable of thought.