“He doesn’t call you that.”
“Darling, what he calls me isn’t fit for a lady’s ears.” He picked up the bolts, then looked at her. “Let’s hide these behind a planter, then fetch our gear and find our horse. I’m too tired to shapechange.”
She thought that was odd, but it had been a long evening preceded by several longer weeks. She nodded and took his hand.
She decided it might be best not to mention that it was trembling.
He was tired, that was all.
Walking up the path toward her uncle’s barn—her step-father’s brother’s barn, to be precise—was one of the odder things she had experienced in a long string of unusual things. She had spent so much of her life there, most all of it that she could remember, but she felt as if she were viewing the place with a stranger’s eyes.
The barn was smaller than she remembered, but tidy and useful. The house, however, was almost unimpressive.
No wonder Fuadain was such a miserable man.
She saw her siblings standing with Soilléir just outside the gates. The sight was so unexpected, she stumbled a bit, then found herself caught and pulled back so abruptly, she almost lost her balance. She looked at Acair in surprise, but he was only staring at a spot in front of her. She would have stepped right into that pool of shadow where shadows shouldn’t have been if he hadn’t stopped her.
“Would you make werelight, love?” he asked quietly.
She wondered why he didn’t do it himself, but he likely had his reasons. She made a ball of werelight from the only spell she knew. Acair smiled at her briefly.
“Lovely light there.”
“I’m a bit surprised I’m still able to do it.”
He reached for her hand. “I haven’t had the chance to ask you how you feel. Different? Those bolts were enspelled with I know not what, but I’m assuming Soilléir removed their poison.”
“If magic was a deafening roar before, ’tis but a whisper now,” she said, realizing as she said it that it was so. She looked at him. “I think I can bear it.”
“I would have made you a jar of useful coins just the same, you know.”
“I know,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You might be the first soul who has ever thanked me for my spells.” He put his arm around her and stared at the ground in front of him. “I wonder about those shadows, though.”
“I would have thought they would have disappeared with Sladaiche.”
“As would I,” he said slowly. “There’s a mystery for you. Well, the sooner we solve it, the sooner we put our feet up. Do you have your coins?”
She looked at him in surprise. “I do, but why?”
He looked at her carefully. “I like to be prepared, Léirsinn. You never know when an extra spell in the right spot will be what turns the tide.”
Given that he had a world full of spells at his fingertips, she couldn’t imagine why he thought she would need hers. There was something amiss with that lad there, but she hardly dared ask what. She simply ducked under his arm and put her arm around his waist without comment. He could think what he wanted and she certainly wasn’t going to make any comments about the fact that he wasn’t entirely steady on his feet.
“It has been a long night,” she said, because it had been.
He nodded with a sigh. “Let’s be about finishing this. I would like to see your grandfather safe and whole. I might even greet Doghail over a shovelful of manure if all goes well.”
“I would like to see him.” she admitted.
He ushered her around the pool of shadow, then glanced at her. “Think he’d like a different view?”
“That might depend on how many Angesand ponies you’re giving me as a wedding gift.”
He smiled. “What a mercenary you are. To answer, I suppose as many as Hearn will let you have, no doubt with the understanding that I never get too close to them.” He shuddered. “Horses. What have I done?”
“Nicked my heart and put it in your pocket on the way out of the barn,” she said dryly. “Someone should have told you the trouble that sort of thing would get you eventually.”
