The White Spell (Nine Kingdoms #10)(87)

She could only stand there and laugh. Hearn chuckled, then nodded at the horse.

“He must like you,” he remarked. “He doesn’t fly for very many. Indeed, I can only think of one other person, but I think the experience was so terrifying, that lad might never sit a horse again. I suspect you wouldn’t have that problem.”

“I wouldn’t.” She stroked the Grey’s nose for a moment or two, then looked at Aherin’s lord. “He must be very valuable.”

“Priceless,” Hearn said. “Don’t think I’d ever sell him. You feel free to come ride him anytime you like, though.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

He nodded up the way. “Let’s put him away and then you can tell me what your plans are for Falaire and what mischief he’s been combining.”

Léirsinn nodded and walked with him back to his stables, waving away the lad who came to take the Grey from her. She untacked him herself, though she wasn’t above handing things off to others for them to clean and put away. She brushed Turasadhair until his coat gleamed and his mane and tail were waterfalls of silver, glowing in the afternoon sunlight that streamed in from the windows set high in the walls.

She put the combs and brushes away, then left the stall. She closed the door, looked at that glorious horse who looked as if he’d been cast in silver, then at Hearn.

“Priceless,” she agreed.

“If I ever find a price, I’ll let you know.”

“I won’t be able to afford it, though I’d be tempted to rob every nobleman I could find to manage it.”

Hearn smiled faintly. “Now you understand what drives that blasted Acair, I imagine.”

She leaned against the stall door. “Do you think that’s it?”

He sighed. “What do I know of men and mages? His father is an arrogant, merciless bastard and his mother one of the most terrifying women I’ve ever met. His brothers are every last one of them the sorts of lads you absolutely wouldn’t want to meet without a gaggle of mages at your heels to keep you safe. Where Acair fits into all that, I couldn’t say. You would do better to ask someone who knows his family. Miach of Neroche is wed to his half-sister, though I’m not sure how well either of them knows him. I suppose Prince Soilléir would have his opinions, if you’re that curious.”

She shook her head slowly. “I prefer to judge men on my own.” She looked at Hearn. “I don’t believe he’s all that evil.”

“That’s because you’ve never seen him with magic to hand,” Hearn said seriously. “Then again, who am I to judge? If someone tried to hurt one of my horses—actually, the things I’ve done to keep them safe . . .” He blew out his breath. “As I said, I’m not one to judge. I will tell you this much, though: he’s fearless. The places that boy has gone? Not in my worst nightmares and I don’t mind admitting that.”

“All in the search of power?” she asked.

“And other things, no doubt.” Hearn nodded at the Grey. “Where would you go for that one there?”

She smiled. “Don’t ask.”

He laughed a little. “I understand, believe me. Let’s go have something to eat before the thought takes root and puts us off our feed.”

“Where’s Acair?”

“Moving a pile of manure from one spot to another,” Hearn said without hesitation, “a completely useless exercise I put him to simply because I could.”

“And of course you aren’t enjoying that at all.”

“The little fiend broke into my solar a few years back and rummaged through not only my papers but my private collection of very rare, very expensive whisky that happened to be a gift from a buyer in Gairn. Damned if I didn’t catch him just as he was preparing to open a bottle and have himself a taste.”

She had to smile. “What did you do to him?”

“Took him by the scruff of the neck and threw him out my front gates.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t use a spell on you,” she said, then she shook her head. “I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth.”

“Too much time with the Grey. He will leave a lass thinking that all manner of impossible things are possible. As for the other, I am who I am. I think despite all his vile threatenings, your lad there simply couldn’t bring himself to destroy a legend.” He shrugged. “Or it could be my hall is protected by spells he suspected might come back to haunt him if he vexed me overmuch.”

“He isn’t my lad, but he does seem to have at least a bit of good sense from time to time.”

“One could hope,” Hearn agreed.

Léirsinn nodded and walked with him back to the hall. She tried not to gawk at her surroundings, but it was difficult not to. She was in a place that felt familiar, given that it was full of horses, yet so far above her uncle’s stables that she felt as if she’d never been inside a barn before.

If only she could have perhaps convinced Hearn to take her on even as a lowly stable hand, it would have been more than she could have expected, truly.

He paused on the top step in front of the doorway to his hall and looked at her. “Come back and ride.”

She looked at him seriously. “Not work?”