The White Spell (Nine Kingdoms #10)(55)

“I wouldn’t think either, my lord,” Acair said politely. “If you’ll excuse us?”

Léirsinn found herself pulled to Acair’s right as he brushed past Droch, which left her quite happily with Acair between her and someone even she could sense was, well, evil.

She honestly didn’t care for how often she’d used that word of late.

Acair continued on at a brisk walk until they turned the first corner they came to, then he pulled her into something just short of a run. She was grateful, all things considered, that he’d kept her to his right side then pushed her in front of him, which had the benefit of keeping her out of Droch’s view. She found she couldn’t speak. She scarce managed to breathe. All she wanted to do was find somewhere to hide.

“Don’t,” he said quickly.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t look back.”

“I wanted to see if he was following us.”

“He doesn’t need to follow us.”

She felt her mouth become very dry. “Why not?”

“Again, not something you want to know right now. Just keep going.”

She didn’t want to know why that was. She had no idea who Droch was in truth; she just knew that when she was within ten paces of him, she wished she could lie down and pull a building over herself.

“Think about something else.”

She looked up at Acair. “Am I saying things aloud?”

“Nay, I just know him and know that what he’ll try to do is lay a spell on you to convince you to give up and give in. Then he’ll slay you. After that, he’ll attempt the same with me.”

She would have pulled her hand away from his, but he seemed like the only solid thing she had to cling to. “How in the hell do you know that?” she asked faintly.

He glanced at her. “I already told you.”

“You’re a mage. You said that yesterday.”

“I said too much.” He steered them abruptly around yet another corner, then leaned back against the side of a building and caught his breath. “I forget from time to time just how much I loathe that man.”

She would have smiled, but she was too unnerved to. “What did he ever do to you?”

“Nothing particular comes to mind. He’s just an annoying, arrogant git who loves nothing more than to draw hapless souls into his web and terrify the bloody hell out of them. Standard fare for any decent black mage.” He paused. “It sounds fairly vile when put that way, doesn’t it?”

She had no idea how to respond to that and she supposed there was no point in arguing about mages and magic and other things that couldn’t possibly be true. If he wanted to believe in faery tales and mythical beasts invented by bards who’d had far too much strong ale, he was welcome to it. She would continue on with horses, because horses were always just what they were, never changing, never suddenly sitting back on their haunches and demanding tea with their grain.

She liked things that were predictable.

“Let’s keep going,” Acair said, taking a deep breath. “The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

She considered, then frowned. She had been dragged out of her home, such as it was, brought to a city she most certainly did not like, assailed by rumors of mages and magic and other things that just couldn’t possibly, shouldn’t possibly, find home in any reasonable woman’s life, and she was finished. She folded her arms over her chest.

“I’m not going anywhere else until I know what we’re doing,” she announced.

He looked at her seriously. “We’re going to steal a horse, then ride him out of this damned place.”

She blinked. “Steal?”

“If the word steal troubles you, think of it as a rescue instead. We are going to liberate your pony from where he’s no doubt currently decorating freshly laid straw with unmentionable substances. The alternative is your favorite horse going off with that man you just saw.”

He had a point there, she had to admit.

“I also need to find Soilléir of Cothromaiche and with what’s following us, I’m not going to manage that on my own two feet. We need help and I think your horse might just be the lad to provide that timely bit of aid. Let’s be off.”

She had to trot to keep up with him, but, again, it seemed better than the alternative of being left behind. She knew she should have been surprised he seemed to know where he was going, but obviously he had been in the city before. She just didn’t want to think about why.

What continued to surprise her more than it perhaps should have was how adept he was at slipping into places that should have remained closed to him. Perhaps a stable wasn’t exactly that sort of place but the stables he let them into without a key were exceptionally fine, which meant they housed extremely expensive horses.

Horses that were apparently guarded by a burly stable hand posted at the front door for obvious reasons. He leapt to his feet when Acair pulled the door open.

“Oy, what are you about—”

Léirsinn watched in astonishment as Acair plunged that poor man into unconsciousness.

“Wha—” She reached for him. “What are you doing?”

“Saving his life.”

She eased past the unconscious man only because she didn’t want to be blamed for having rendered him senseless. At least she hoped he was merely senseless.