The White Spell (Nine Kingdoms #10)(79)

“What—” Léirsinn cleared her throat. “What is it?”

Eulasaid held open the gate for her, then stood next to her after she’d come inside. She nodded toward the stallion.

“Watch.”

Léirsinn saw nothing out of the ordinary until she realized there was a pool of shadow not twenty paces away from where she stood. How that accursed thing had found its way there, she didn’t know. Falaire trotted over toward her, spotted that shadow, then turned aside to go and have a sniff. She would have started forward to stop him, but Eulasaid put her hand out and caught her gently by the arm.

“Wait,” she said calmly.

Falaire regarded the shadow in front of him for a moment or two, then reared. He came down with a snort and stomped the bloody hell out of it.

The shadow splintered into scores of shards that glittered in a way that left her almost dazzled by their beauty. She realized tears were rolling down her cheeks. That something so lovely should have been destroyed—

The shards fluttered suddenly, then gathered themselves back together, forming again that small pool of shadow.

Léirsinn realized Acair’s grandmother was surprisingly strong only because the woman saved her from falling straightway upon her arse. She felt behind her for the gate, then leaned back against it. Acair’s hand was suddenly very lightly on her shoulder, which she appreciated. She patted his fingers, then nodded briskly.

“I am well.”

He made a sound that indicated very clearly that he didn’t believe her, but he took his hand away just the same. She looked at Eulasaid.

“What do you think?” she managed.

“I think your pony is obsessed with that shadow,” Eulasaid remarked. “He’s destroyed it dozens of times, watched it reform, then destroyed it again. He doesn’t seem any worse for the wear, which is reassuring, but he is determined to continue to meddle with it.” She looked at Léirsinn. “He saw it before I did, I’m afraid.”

Léirsinn nodded, then took the lead rope Acair’s grandmother handed her. She walked out to the middle of the arena, had a brief battle of wills with her horse, then led him away. He only hesitated for the first few steps, then he came with her willingly.

It was odd.

It also made her decision for her.

She put Falaire in the stall provided for his use, then leaned on the open window and watched him as he helped himself to a steaming bucket of grain. She didn’t so much hear Acair as she felt him come stand next to her. He rested his elbows on the ledge of the window as well and watched her horse.

“I want you to stay here,” he said quietly.

“I know.”

“I am not ever this altruistic,” he continued, “which is what I think should worry you the most.”

She looked at him then, reputed son of a black mage, lad with a very disreputable past full of dark deeds himself, and wondered about him. “And yet you’re trying to save me.”

“I know what lies ahead.”

“You’re simply trotting off to find a friend,” she said with a shrug. “How dangerous can that be?”

He blew out his breath. “Extremely. And I can do nothing to save either of us if trouble presents itself, which I find to be an unacceptable position to be in.” He paused. “Also, when I find Soilléir, I might be less than polite.”

She smiled in spite of herself. “Harsh language?”

“I may have to resort to that, aye.”

She leaned on the wood and shook her head. “How is it you can be so charming yet have such a terrible reputation?”

“I like my victims to feel as if they’ve had a jolly good time before I either steal their magic or pilfer their choicest spells,” he admitted. “That generosity of spirit is indeed my worst failing.”

She stepped back and shut the window. “I’m coming with you.”

“Léirsinn . . .”

“Careful, Prince Acair, lest I think you’re serious about your concern for me.”

“Heaven forbid,” he muttered. He shot her a look. “And don’t call me that. It might give people the wrong idea about me.”

She smiled. “What do people usually call you?”

“I don’t use those sorts of words in the presence of ladies.”

“I can just imagine.” She took his arm. “Let’s go, lad, and don’t think I’m going to let you scamper off with my horse.”

He sighed deeply. “Again, Léirsinn—”

“Don’t waste your breath.”

He studied her for a moment or two in silence, then shook his head. “Very well,” he said, sounding resigned, “we’ll leave in the morning. I think Eulasaid and Sgath—”

“Your grandparents,” she interrupted.

He looked as unnerved as she felt. “Aye, my, er, grandparents. They would apparently like to see us fed at least one more time in a decent fashion, though I think I’ll forgo any walks in the garden with the lord of the house. His ale is delightful, but I think I need a clear head on the morrow.”

“Where will we go?”

“I’ll consider our route over supper. As I said before, my list of welcoming harbors is quite short.”

“I don’t suppose announcing you’re on a mission of good would change any minds?”