The White Spell (Nine Kingdoms #10)(44)

“Very odd,” Slaidear agreed.

“I wonder . . . nay, the one I’m thinking of would never find himself laboring in a barn. Now, if you haven’t the stomach to see to this yourself, trot off to the village and find someone to do it for you. I’m off to sell a horse.”

Léirsinn started forward to protest only to find there was a hand suddenly on her arm, pulling her back into the shadows. She went, because apparently she had lost all ability to do anything but stand about stupidly, stunned by what she was hearing. The only thing she could say for herself at present was at least she hadn’t fainted. She thought that might be due to Acair’s holding her up.

She somehow wasn’t surprised to find that he had returned and rescued her. It was becoming something of a bad habit for him.

She didn’t argue when he pulled her behind him. She would have told him she had no intention of forgoing the opportunity to use him as a shield, but she couldn’t form words at the moment. She leaned her head back against the wall and fought the urge to indulge in some sort of display that wouldn’t have done her credit. Histrionics, or a swoon, or perhaps simply bursting into loud, messy tears.

Acair was very still and his stillness rapidly became hers. His hand on her arm was warm, all things considered, and gave her an unexpected measure of comfort. The beating of her heart was so loud in her ears, though, she feared that everyone in the barn might be able to hear it. She forced herself to ignore it and see if she could hear any more details from the men conversing about her death, but they had obviously finished and were both off to see to their tasks. Acair fumbled for her hand.

“Let’s go,” he whispered.

“But—”

“Come now. You don’t want to have anything to do with any of this.”

She would have argued a bit longer, but it wasn’t every day that she listened to someone plot her demise. She slipped through the shadows with Acair, remaining on her feet only because he kept her moving as surely as she would have a recalcitrant colt. Terror was apparently a very good means of inspiring all sorts of things, mostly flight. She was fairly sure she didn’t take a decent breath until they were outside the barn and out of sight behind a pile of lumber intended for future fencing. She looked at Acair.

“Well, I’m here,” she said, taking hold of the first thing that came to mind. “What do you want?”

He looked at her in disbelief. “I want you not to be dead.”

“Very kind of you.”

“Trust me, I’m not usually this altruistic.”

“Then I’ve caught you on a good night,” she said. “But you needn’t worry. I’m not going to die.”

He turned to face her. “Weren’t you listening?” he asked in astonishment. “In truth? Léirsinn, they weren’t making a jest at your expense. Your uncle wants you dead!”

“He wants everyone dead,” she began, then a thought occurred to her that she likely should have had long before then and that was that perhaps Acair and her uncle knew each other far more intimately than she suspected. She looked at Acair and felt as though she’d never seen him before.

“Oh, nay,” he began. “Don’t start with that.”

She backed away. “He said you were going to kill me—”

“Nay, he said someone else was going to kill you,” he said, reaching for her, “and make it look as if I’d done it.”

She held him off. “You could be lying.”

“I don’t lie. ’Tis my one and only virtue.” He took a step closer to her. “Think it through, Léirsinn,” he said urgently. “If I were going to kill you, why would we be here right now?”

“So I won’t bleed on the barn and leave Doghail to cleaning it up on the morrow?”

He didn’t smile. “If I wanted to do you in, I wouldn’t have brought you outside where you could run. I would have pinned you in a stall where you couldn’t escape.”

“You sound far too familiar with that sort of strategy for my peace of mind,” she said, her teeth beginning to chatter.

“I’m familiar with many things that would make you uncomfortable, but let’s discuss those later. For now, believe me when I say that I don’t want you dead. Unfortunately, others apparently don’t share that sentiment, which is why we need to go now.”

She wished she could stop shivering. She couldn’t believe she was having a conversation that involved death, more particularly her death. It felt as if she’d stumbled into a play where she’d been drawn up onto the stage and forced into a role she’d never wanted and didn’t know how to escape.

“Let’s go.”

She realized Acair was still talking to her and she’d missed what he’d been saying. She started to walk, then what he’d said actually made sense to her. She pulled up short.

“Go?” she echoed. “Go where?”

“Out of Sàraichte, obviously,” he said. “I don’t think either of us is safe here any longer. I didn’t intend on bringing company along with me, but ’tis obvious you can’t remain behind.”

“But I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said in surprise. “I can’t leave my grandfather.”