“I wouldn’t think to do otherwise,” Soilléir said.
Acair suppressed the urge to swear at him. “Let me be more specific. You’ll need to get us over the border, invisible, with a distraction to draw eyes off us—on the off chance your damned spell isn’t enough.”
“A distraction won’t be a problem,” Soilléir said, “and my spell will be enough.”
“For more than one journey through the air.”
“I’ll give Léirsinn the key to use in removing it so you might use it as long as you like.” He rose and held down his hand for Léirsinn. “A safe journey to you, my dear.”
Acair was surprised she didn’t clout him on the nose, but that gel had more restraint than he did. He refrained from muttering threats under his breath because they were, after all, trying to go about in secret.
He retrieved the lexicon on the off chance he might need to use it as a weapon in a pinch, dared Soilléir to make any comment about removing it from his grandfather’s library—which he very wisely did not—and invited the man to join them in making a discreet exit out Léirsinn’s window after they retrieved their gear from her chamber.
The one thing he could say—and he did so with only a slight gritting of his teeth—was that whatever else his faults might have been, Soilléir of Cothromaiche was as good as his word. Within minutes they were safely in the air under cover of a spell that was so beautiful, he thought he might have to remove an item or two from theReasons to Slay a Certain Essence-changing Whoresoncolumn of Soilléir’s ledger after having heard the man weave it over them.
He’d memorized it, of course, because that was what he did.
A charmed life and a terribly courageous woman with whom to enjoy it.
He thought things just might be looking up.
The sun was setting as they walked through the village of An Caol, still cloaked in that spectacular spell. He’d studied it as they’d flown and realized at some point during that flight that it was the same spell Soilléir had used in that rustic little pub in Neroche. At the time he had found the magic odd, but he couldn’t have said why. Now, he knew better.
It was the magic of Fàs.
He was definitely going to be having a wee visit to his grandmother’s solar, bribes in hand, to tattle on Soilléir. With any luck at all, there would be a battle of words and spells between the two of them that would be decent entertainment for the summer. He would, of course, be sitting by with notebook in hand. His posterity would thank him, no doubt.
He also wondered why he hadn’t taken the trouble to make note of that magic earlier. He was beginning to suspect that the magic of Fàs, honed to perfection in that tiny duchy of Fearann, hid behind honey and cones of thread to throw inquisitive mages off the scent. He had no idea what the stuff was really used for, but he would definitely be giving it a closer look when he was next at his leisure.
That might come after he’d unraveled what it was that Soilléir had so carefully placed in Léirsinn’s veins and the reason why.
He realized she had stopped. Sianach, currently wearing his drooling, hell-hound shape, had slipped his once equine head beneath her limp hand and given it a nudge. She patted him absently, but said nothing. She was simply looking at the very modest little house in front of her.
It had to have been her parents’, that much was certain. Acair wasn’t sure what the proper thing was to do at the moment, but didn’t wince when she groped for his hand and held it a bit too firmly. She looked away from the open doorway and met his gaze. He expected to see agony in her eyes, but there was only a solemn sort of peace.
He hardly knew what to think. She was so…whole. He was perhaps a bit too accustomed to rubbing shoulders with people who wanted as much from him as he wanted from them. That woman there, though. That red-haired, lovely, courageous gel who had put the fate of the world before herself was unlike anyone he had ever met.
“I will,” he said seriously, “beggar myself to buy you as many Angesand ponies as you can ride.”
“You’re daft,” she said with an affectionate smile.
“And soon to be very poor from said beggaring, but I’ll rob a few unwary monarchs so you have enough feed and hay.”
“Altruistic to the last,” she noted.
“That I am, love.” He hesitated. “What can I do?”
“Come with me inside?”
He took a careful breath and nodded. There was nothing else to be said and he wasn’t at all sure what he would find, but it had seemed as though their current footfalls were simply more steps on a journey that had been set out for the both of them long before they would have considered the same.
Soilléir saying take her homeas he’d shut that damned border spell almost on his arse had been something to consider, of course.
What he hadn’t expected, however, was to realize that he had walked through that village himself decades ago.
“Are you unwell?”
He looked at her quickly. “Rather I should be asking you the same.”
