The White Spell (Nine Kingdoms #10)(67)

“Mages use it to do what they do,” he said. He looked at her and frowned. “It seems rather commonplace when you think of it that way, doesn’t it?”

“Isn’t it commonplace?”

He shifted to look at her. “What did you think when your horse sprouted wings?”

She started to toss off a careless reply but found she couldn’t. “I don’t know,” she hedged.

“I don’t know what you thought either, but whatever it was, it was apparently enough to leave you in a faint.” He smiled briefly. “Some magic is good, some is bad, and some simply is. Your horse’s magic simply is. Ehrne’s . . . well, I suppose we can argue the merits of what he has at another time. I wouldn’t call him a black mage.”

“A black mage?”

“Someone who uses evil magic.”

“You?”

“Not of late, if you must have the truth, but previously? Aye.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

He looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. “What a question.”

“Are you going to answer it?”

“I’m not sure I want to,” he muttered. He took a deep breath. “At the moment, I’m not sure I’m enjoying much at all. I suppose there is a fair amount of satisfaction that comes from dealing out just deserts, though I fear I must admit I’ve done more than my share of dealing out deserts that weren’t so just simply because I could.” He shrugged. “As for other magics, in the end, one can generally only use the magic one is entitled to by birth. I suppose, though, that with enough power, one can use whatever one has the stomach for.”

“And you have a very strong stomach, is that it?”

“I draw the line at prissy elven rot,” he said firmly. “But anything else? Aye.” He shrugged again. “As I said, when one has enough power, there isn’t much out of reach. I’ll describe a few of those things for you—”

She could scarce believe she was listening to what he was now going on about, much less taking any of it as anything but a very large pile of horse manure. He seemed to believe it, which she supposed said something. He also seemed convinced that that thing in the corner was watching him, which she supposed she could understand as well. Whatever it was, it seemed to want to keep Acair in its sights. She was half tempted to ask him to trot out one of his spells to show her, but she thought she might have seen enough over the past few days. What she thought she wanted to do was have a bit of a rest.

“That’s all very interesting,” she said with a yawn.

“You haven’t been listening to anything I’ve been saying, have you?”

“I’ve reached my limit of unbelievable things for the day. I heard something about history and books, and then I lost interest.” She smiled. “Sorry.”

He shut his mouth, which had been hanging open. “You are the damndest woman.”

“Thank you. Now, why don’t you leave off with all that other rot and tell me just about you. What was the first naughty thing you ever did? That will hold my interest, I’m sure.”

He smiled. “Very well, if you insist. I think the first spell I ever used was one that set my oldest brother’s trousers on fire.” He looked at her knowingly. “A spell of just five words. Quite a feat for a lad just starting out.”

She smiled. “I don’t believe it.”

“Would you believe three words?”

“Aye, that I would believe,” she said dryly. “I’m talking about something besides familial pranks. Some glorious thing you did that you shouldn’t have done.”

He studied her. “I believe you’re having a bit of sport at my expense.”

“Again, you need someone who isn’t intimidated by your terrible reputation or your vast amounts of mythical power to help you not take yourself so seriously.” She pulled his cloak more closely around her. “Impress me.”

“If I haven’t managed to impress you without having to sing my own praises, there is no hope for it. But if I’m able to stretch my memory back so far into my innocence—”

She snorted before she could help herself.

“My innocence,” he said pointedly, “I would have to say the first bit of true trouble I got myself into—and out of brilliantly, I must admit—was a rather pedestrian excursion into the back garden of a neighbor who I will admit intrigued me simply because of the things he was growing where nothing should have grown. And once I’d helped myself to several of his peaches, I couldn’t resist a wee peek into his solar.”

“Where you found him snoozing in his chair before the fire?”

“Nay, I found a spell sitting on his mantel.”

She looked at him with a frown. “How does a spell sit?”

He pointed to the corner. She had to admit that thing wasn’t so much sitting as it was slouching, but perhaps mages didn’t make distinctions about that sort of thing.

“It was wrapped in other spells,” Acair continued, “which to a lad of eight summers was an irresistible temptation. I unwrapped, examined, then panicked and fled past the man out through his garden.” He paused. “I fear I might have knocked him off a ladder on my way by.”

“On purpose?”