The White Spell (Nine Kingdoms #10)(71)

“I’m worse, trust me,” he muttered. “You would be wise to keep as far from me as possible.”

“Too late now, I imagine. Besides, you hold the key to my grandfather’s salvation.”

He shook his head. “Heaven help you if I’m what you’re relying on, which you are, poor girl.”

“I’m a score and ten, Acair. I can think for myself.”

“I’m two years shy of a century, and I’m not sure I do much thinking at all.”

She laughed at him. He didn’t bother to assure her that her laughter was misplaced.

“I still think you’re inventing most of this as you go,” she said, “but I will admit that I’ve seen things that give me pause. Your grandmother, for instance, is rather spry for what I’m assuming is a rather substantial tally of years.”

“A tally I won’t reveal, because I am discreet like that,” he said archly.

She smiled. “And so you are, to your credit. Now, tell me again how you’re related to her? She’s your father’s mother?”

“Aye,” he said, looking briefly over his shoulder to make sure Soilléir’s spell wasn’t going to object to that small bit of truth. After all, it wasn’t as if Léirsinn didn’t now know who he was. Given that he hadn’t been the one to tell her, perhaps adding a few more details past what he’d given her in Ehrne’s dungeon wouldn’t upset the damned thing overmuch.

“And she’s a safe harbor for us?”

“I can’t imagine she would rescue us only to toss us in her dungeon,” he said, “not that I imagine they have one.”

“Generous.”

“Aye, they are, so it seems.” He paused. “I think perhaps we shouldn’t roam about their little kingdom, though.”

“Why not?”

“Because my half-brother Ruithneadh and his lady wife live across the lake from them, or so I understand.”

“And they wouldn’t be happy to see you?”

“No,” Acair said without hesitation. “We share a father, Ruithneadh and I, but that is exactly all we share.” He looked at her, then sighed. “The situation is a bit complicated. I’m not sure if I was entirely clear about this before, but my father was a bit of a rogue. He carried on with my mother for quite some time yet never found the opportunity to wed her.”

“How long is quite some time?”

“Several centuries, at least. What he was combining before that, I couldn’t say.” He looked at their surroundings for a moment or two to make sure they were still safe, then continued on. “After my father and my mother had parted ways, I understand he managed an invitation to Toirmisgeach of Dùinte’s salon and there he saw Sarait, the youngest of the five daughters of the king of the elves.”

“Isn’t his dungeon where we just were?” she asked.

“Nay, Sarait is the daughter of Sìle, king of the elves of Tòrr Dòrainn. Much more exclusive, that lot. Their land is to the east of Ehrne’s. The elves of Tòrr Dòrainn do not wed with any who aren’t their sort of people, if you know what I mean. But my father fell madly in love with Sarait and would not be gainsaid, or so I understand. How he managed to win her, I don’t know.”

“Wait,” she said slowly. “If King Ehrne is your cousin, that would make you an elf. Part, at least.”

“To my continued surprise, aye, it does.”

“And part witch.”

“Wizard,” he said, “through my mother and the lady Eulasaid, whom you’ve met. Aye to that as well.”

She stopped and looked at him. “But if your cousin is the king of Ainneamh, does that make you a prince?”

He had to admit he rarely thought of it that way, but there was truth to it, he supposed. “If it earns me entrance to a dining hall that sets a decent table, absolutely.”

She smiled. “Your needs are fairly simple, aren’t they?”

If she only knew. He supposed he would have been far better off in the past if he’d limited himself to what he’d intended to eat each night and left other things alone. “You’re a wise lass for noticing that,” he said. “Supper, cards, the odd, irreplaceable knick-knack. I’m honestly not at all sure why I have so many enemies.”

“I can’t imagine either,” she said solemnly, “but King Ehrne certainly seems to fall in with that lot.”

“The feeling is quite mutual, I assure you,” he said. He paused, then looked at her. “He may have more reason for that than I’m allowing. ’Tis possible that I may have vexed him overmuch in the past.”

“Pinch something or just insult him?”

“I removed his crown from where it had fallen half off his head whilst he was napping in his great chair, hefted it, then tossed it back at him as not worth the effort.” He shrugged. “I may have also insulted his wife.”

She laughed a little. “I should be appalled.”

“Likely so, for you have to know I’m leaving out the more unsavory bits in deference to your finer sensibilities,” he admitted. “He is an ass, as anyone will tell you, and deserves everything I’ve taken the time to do to him over the years. Sarait’s father, Sìle, though is a different sort. I’m honestly not sure why he gave my father permission to wed his daughter, but Gair is nothing if not charming.”