The White Spell (Nine Kingdoms #10)(70)

Acair didn’t want to acknowledge the small . . . something . . . those words gave him in his chest. A feeling of fondness toward a woman who could have flattened him with the smallest lifting of her pinky finger, perhaps. He shook his head in resignation. ’Twas that damned spell of healing Rùnach had used on him the year before, rearing its ugly head yet again. He was never going to be free of its vile effects.

“Why don’t you children go on ahead,” Eulasaid suggested. “I find that I suddenly have business behind us. I’ll be along shortly, I promise.”

Acair considered protesting, but Eulasaid was who she was, after all. Whilst she might enjoy a proffered arm on the way into supper, she didn’t need a lad with spells to aid her if she had a bit of business to see to. Given that he was unable to use any of his magic, he supposed there was no use in tagging along after her. That and he suspected nothing he could say would dissuade her, so he made her a brief bow, then took Léirsinn’s hand and continued on with her as quickly as he thought they dared.

“That was interesting,” she remarked.

He shot her a look, then shivered. “Wasn’t it, though? And there I’d been, racking my wee head for ways to get us out of that damned place with as little fuss as possible. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it helps to have powerful friends.”

“I’ll say. Did I also hear her say my horse was in her pocket?”

“I believe you did.”

She was quiet for a goodly while as they walked swiftly through the forest, draped as it was in pre-dawn light. He didn’t dare speculate on what she was thinking; he was too busy trying to keep pace with her. He wasn’t unaccustomed to making hasty exits, but he had to admit he was hard-pressed to keep up with Léirsinn when she was in a hurry.

He found himself unaccountably relieved, a fair bit of time later, to see the thin blue line marking Ehrne’s western border. He made certain Léirsinn was beside him, then crossed it without delay. He hunched over with his hands on his thighs and simply breathed in air that he didn’t have to share with monarchs who wanted him dead.

He supposed that was going to be something of a rarity.

He heaved himself upright eventually and found his companion simply standing there, watching him. He was tempted to reach for a spell of protection, then caught himself halfway to doing the like. It gave him pause, honestly more than anything that he’d faced over the past year.

Perhaps he needed a change.

“Who was that again?” she asked.

He latched onto the distraction without delay. “That,” he said, “was Eulasaid of Camana?.”

“Is that a place or a magic?”

He reached for her hand and tucked it under his elbow. He started down the path with her, happy to discuss anything that didn’t have to do with his own sorry self.

“It is both, as it happens,” he said. “Not far from here, as fate would have it, is that lovely little country, full of all sorts of magical things and beings. Unfortunately, I doubt we’ll have a chance to make a visit.”

“And she’s your grandmother,” Léirsinn said slowly. “This Eulasaid of Camana?.”

“To her continued surprise, no doubt,” he said. “She’s my father’s mother and the granddaughter of the Wizardess Nimheil.”

“One of those women who only dabble in lesser magics?” she asked politely.

Where to begin with that? He decided ’twas best not to begin at all. “Nimheil is definitely an exception to that rule,” he said. “Her granddaughter is as well. A very powerful gaggle of hens, that lot from Camana?.”

“Do you honestly think they would appreciate being called a gaggle?” she asked, sounding amused.

“I think any of them would attempt to slay me on the spot just for the sport of it, leaving me to scamper behind my father’s mother’s skirts,” he said with a snort, “so what I call them is likely the least of what they’d be interested in.”

She looked up at him seriously. “I would ask you if you dine with your grandparents often, but I’m guessing not.”

He shook his head, but couldn’t bring himself to make light of it. He had spent more than his share of time in exclusive and very luxurious places, which he had always told himself made up for the rest of his life. Now, though, he was starting to wonder if there might have been things he’d missed out on, things he should have made more of an effort to be a part of.

He rubbed his chest in annoyance. That damned spell. If he ever managed to get Rùnach of Tòrr Dòrainn properly cornered and cowed, he would be insisting on a few changes.

“Where are we going?”

He was grateful for not only the change of subject but the necessity of thinking about his next move.

“My list of safe harbors is very small,” he said slowly, “and the ones where I’m welcome is even smaller, I fear. I believe we should accept the lady Eulasaid’s kind offer and make for Lake Cladach. You’ll be safe there whilst I turn for Neroche.”

“Where a warm welcome also awaits?”

He looked at her narrowly. “Throwing a man’s past in his face is hardly the way to give him room to carve out a new, less murderous, future.”

She smiled faintly. “I don’t think you’re nearly as evil as you would like everyone to believe.”