But until that happy time came, perhaps there were things she could do to improve her situation.
“Your Majesty,” she began, “I would like to offer my apologies.”
“As well you should, mistress,” the king said, “for both my hall and my stables.”
“I apologize, especially for the stables.”
He smoothed his hand over his beard protectively. “Knowing you were aiming for me shouldn’t lessen the sting of that, but I find it does. Apology accepted, though I blame that wee bastard for inspiring you to do things you shouldn’t have.”
She was too far beyond changing course there, so she had no choice but to simply press on.
“He is what he is,” she allowed, “but I still need him alive.”
The king made a noise that sounded a bit like rocks tumbling down a well. “So says everyone I encounter of late, to my surprise. No doubt Fionne’s runt is picking at things he should leave alone, though if Hearn is willing to trade me a pony for the lad’s life, perhaps there are things only he can see to.”
He looked at her expectantly. She realized she was facing the same sort of dilemma she had been with Acair’s mother when the witchwoman of Fàs had waited with an ear bent for pertinent details. She suspected Mistress Fionne was quite a bit fonder of Acair than the local monarch was, but at the moment she couldn’t think of any reason not to divulge at least the main purpose of their travels. It might be what kept them both alive for a bit longer. She took a deep breath.
“He is on a quest.”
“Is that what he’s calling having another go at stealing the world’s supplies of magic?” the king asked politely.
“This time he’s off tosavethe world.”
The king choked on his drink. If she’d known that sort of announcement would have unnerved him so, she would have used that long before she’d used a spell.
The king dragged his sleeve across his mouth and looked at her in disbelief. “And you’ve put your life at risk for that whopping falsehood?”
She looked around to find the kitchen servants keeping a discreet distance, but she leaned closer to him just the same.
“He is on a quest to find the creator of a certain type of shadow,” she said quietly. She sat back, then paused. “I don’t suppose you know anything about shadows.”
The king pursed his lips. “More than I’ll own, to be sure. Tell me more whilst I down several cups of my very fine ale until I’m equal to believing that Fionne of Fàs’ youngest brat might be about anything good.”
Well, while the king of the dwarves might not have had fond feelings for her traveling companion, she imagined he did for the world in general. That and he hadn’t tossed her in a dungeon when she’d set his beard on fire. Perhaps a bit of truth might even improve things.
“I’m not exactly sure where to begin,” she admitted.
“Begin at the beginning,” the king suggested. “Where did you first encounter him? Was he being pursued by mages trying to slay him?”
“Actually, I met him in my uncle’s barn where he’d been sent to spend a year without magic, shoveling manure.”
The king smiled pleasantly. “I like where this is going so far. How was he at it?”
“About as you’d expect,” she said. “He wasn’t allowed to reveal his identity, so I thought him nothing more than a pampered lord’s son down on his luck. In the end, he invited me to come along while he looked for someone to take away that spell of death that stalks him.”
“Invited,” the king said with a snort. “I hope that’s true, though I suspect you’re leaving out details that are none of my affair. Very well, so you agreed to go along with him because he doesn’t lack a gilded tongue under the right circumstances, and then what?”
“Somehow word got out that he couldn’t use his magic and we’ve been on the run ever since.”
“Who made that spell of death that hounds him?”
“He doesn’t know. It almost killed him the day before we crossed your border. Prince Soilléir came when I called him—something I wouldn’t have known to do if Acair hadn’t been complaining about it under his breath on our journey from his mother’s house—and he saved Acair’s life.”
“And gave you magic.”
She looked at him seriously. “I asked for it.”
The king fussed with his mug of ale for a moment or two, then looked at her. “I can’t say that I blame you, gel, though there is a steep price to be paid for any essence changing. I assume you asked for it to protect that wee bastard?”
