“That would be a far less painful death than what your sister would inflict, I imagine.”
“No imagination needed, and you would consider my offer a mercy if you knew how true that was.”
“I appreciate the concession.”
“Don’t make me regret this,” Astar said, pulling back. “I’m doing it for that woman there who deserves far better than the likes of you.”
“I’m trying to be worthy of her.”
Astar’s snort almost felled him where he stood, but, sadly, he was accustomed to worse.
What he wasn’t accustomed to, however, was an escort to a place he wasn’t supposed to be. He trailed after Léirsinn and her royal companion until they paused before a particular set of heavy doors. Astar shot him one last warning look, then simply continued on down the passageway as if he had places to go and things to do.
Acair wished he’d had the time to properly appreciate where he was, but he thought he might have to be satisfied with simply shaking his head as he opened the heavy wooden doors of Seannair of Cothromaiche’s library. He slipped inside that inner sanctum with Léirsinn, then shut the doors quietly behind them.
He pulled her over away from the entrance on the off chance some offended monarch or other might come rushing inside and flatten the two of them, then wondered why he hadn’t had the foresight to demand from a different princely grandson exact directions to books that were missing pages.
What he also hadn’t considered asking was just what the hell Soilléir had put into Léirsinn’s veins. Worse, it had never once occurred to him to ask Soilléir to identify the magic that had created that spell of death that haunted him.
“Any ideas?” Léirsinn whispered.
He had several and most of them had to do with what he would do when he had his fingers and Soilléir’s neck close enough for a brief encounter, but perhaps those were thoughts he could enjoy later when he was at his leisure.
He looked at Léirsinn. “Not a one,” he said helplessly. “Let’s find ourselves a darkened corner and see what comes of it.”
He caught her very weak glare even in the gloom and smiled, then took her hand.
“I mean books, darling. I realize it’s difficult when you have me within reach, but try to focus on the task at hand.”
“I’m going to push you off the back of the next dragon we ride, just so you know.”
He suspected she just might.
He nodded toward the hearth to their right and supposed a bit of a pause there might give them at least some idea of the lay of the land, as it were.
He had the feeling Astar might rethink his generosity, so the sooner they had found what they’d come for, no doubt the better.
Eighteen
Léirsinn looked over King Seannair’s seemingly endless collection of books and thought she might want to find somewhere to sit. The likelihood of finding what they needed without an extensive, lengthy search was probably very small.
“What are we looking for again?” she murmured.
“Something with a page or two missing,” Acair said. “As giddy as I generally am over the sight of a well-stocked library, I’ll admit this is rather daunting.”
“I don’t suppose they have a shelf markedThings Acair of Ceangail Shouldn’t Read, do they?”
He smiled briefly. “If they don’t, they likely should.”
“This will take years,” she said.
“We might have to try a spell to shorten our search.” He turned to her. “You’ll have to do it, so stop eyeing the exits.”
“I’m not eyeing, I’m merely judging the distance between myself and the closest one.”
He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “There, now there is no hope of escape for you. The inconsequential nature of the spell I’m going to give you should put you to sleep, but the exhilaration of being where we’re not supposed to will counter that, I’m sure.”
“How many words?” she asked reluctantly.
