Page 26 of Darro

“What need you from me?” Rory said quietly, barely audible.

“Fireproof armor, if you’ve any.” He leaned against a table. “Enchanted spiders may be soon attacking the stronghold. Burning destroys them, so the laird has ordered all clansmen to carry torches. Alas, ’twill put me at risk wherever I roam in the stronghold now.”

“Any metal armor you done shallnae stop the flames, and instead shall cook you where you stand,” the armorer said. Because of his odd upbringing he also didn’t understand jesting. “You need protection of another kind. Come into the passage.”

Darro followed him out of the archive room, and then watched as Rory removed a stone from his pocket and held it in his fist. The armorer then retreated some distance before taking down a torch and holding it under his fist. The flames arched around his hand as if it were encased in glass.

“’Tis a druid stone bespelled with a shielding ward,” Rory said as he put the torch back and came over to show him his unburned hand. “’’Twill but protect a small part of you, and no’ for very long. I’ll need more if we’re to protect your entire body.” He offered him the stone. “Only I dinnae ken where I might find more of the stones.”

Darro examined the etched gray rock, which had a brownish green tinge to it. “If we’ve any here Farlan shall ken. May I keep this one to show him?”

Rory nodded. “Bring them to the forge when you’ve collected twenty-one. That should prove enough.”

“My thanks, Brother.” Darro hesitated to ask him about the spell Bodach had been casting when the barrier had closed, but he needed to know if it was responsible for his unreasonable reaction to Esme. “Do you ken if the Fae use magic on mortals to instill fear?” When he nodded, he asked, “Could you detect such on me?”

The armorer lifted his hands. “If I may?”

Darro nodded, and then went still as the big man’s fingers touched the sides of his head. The air between them took on a peculiar glitter for a moment, and then Rory quickly removed his hands.

“I sense traces of a Fae-cast spell clinging to you, but ’tis damaged, or mayhap incomplete. Be patient. In time the magic should dissipate.” He turned and went back inside the archive, where he rolled up the enchanted scroll.

Darro went in and watched him place the scroll back on a shelf. “Does watching the memory of the lady ease the pain of her loss, or deepen it?”

“Both, I reckon.” He smiled sadly. “Aside from Lady Grace, ’tis all I’ve left of her.”

“I hate to leave you to such.” He knew only one way to draw him out. “I’ve time before I must meet with the laird. Come and spar with me.”