The White Spell (Nine Kingdoms #10)(89)

Exactly the opposite of what her life was offering at present.

She finished eventually, then handed off her gear to one of the stable lads. She left the feeding of the Grey to lads whose business it was, admired him one more time, then let herself out of the stall. She looked at Acair who hadn’t moved from his place.

“You lean a great deal, don’t you?”

“How do you mean?” he asked.

“Against doorways,” she said, “walls, pillars, mantels.” She shrugged. “That sort of thing.”

“It gives me the opportunity to display my profile, something you can’t help but have admired more than once.”

She smiled. “You are a showy pony, aren’t you?”

“You should see me when I’m at liberty to shapechange,” he said. “Women swoon, mere mortals weep in fear, mages grind their teeth. I would suggest that it is very bad for my enormous ego, that sort of thing, but I will admit I enjoy it. Mainly the swooning, but there you have it. I can’t turn my back on who I am.”

She leaned against the stall door. “You say these things, yet I’m not sure you mean them.”

“You don’t think my ego is enormous?”

“I think your ego is colossal,” she said, “and there are times I believe you almost take yourself seriously.”

He sighed lightly as he joined her in her leaning. “I have the very fine example of my father to keep me from it, if you want the entire truth. He is so enamored of himself, I’m not sure he ever truly notices anyone else. Oh, he’ll make you believe he does, for a time, but it never lasts.”

“What does he want, then?”

“Power.” He smiled briefly. “’Tis what every decent mage wants.”

“Why?”

He nodded toward the spectacular horse with his nose as far into his grain bucket as it would go. “Why do you want that horse?”

She took an unsteady breath. “Hearn already forced me to acknowledge this.”

Acair looked at her. “Wouldn’t you have a dozen of his like if you had an endless amount of gold in your coffers?”

“You can only work so many horses,” she said.

“But a dozen of that lad’s ilk?” he said. “I would hazard a guess the prize might be worth all the work to have it. And so says every mage with a handful of wits rattling around in his head.”

“But you’re not trying to acquire more horses. Surely there’s a limit to how much power you can use.” She stopped and looked at him. “I can’t believe I said those words.”

“Don’t make your pony take you outside and prove again what he’s capable of.” He nodded knowingly. “Magic, if you weren’t clear on what I was referring to.”

“I’m trying to convince myself I dreamed all of it,” she said, then she breathed deeply. She gestured toward that magnificent, impossibly swift horse in front of them. “That is what I understand. The rest of it? I will continue to call it fanciful imaginings.”

“Cling to that, my gel. Cling to it.”

“I suspect I should.”

He smiled and watched the Grey investigate the depths of his bucket a bit longer. “As for the acquisition of power, who knows why a mage wants more? Perhaps it comes from being afraid someone might have more of it than he does, or perhaps it simply comes from fear he won’t have enough.”

She looked at him in surprise. He was looking at her in almost the same way.

“Good hell,” he said faintly. “I believe I have finally shoveled too much manure and lost my mind somewhere in the pile.”

She smiled. “Stable work is good for the soul.”

“Unless you are me, in which case it is very bad for whatever soul I have left.” He shook his head slowly. “I have obviously had too much time on my hands for thinking ridiculous thoughts.”

She shifted so she could still lean against the stall door yet face him. “Are you afraid you won’t have enough power, Acair? And keep in mind I can’t believe I’m saying those words without indulging in a snort of derision.”

He watched the Grey for another moment or two, then shook his head with a weary smile. “I’m not sure I can give you the answer that question deserves,” he said. “Perhaps there are only so many spells one can have, just as there are only so many horses one can ride. But how can you not wonder if there might be a horse in a stable down the way who might be the one pony in the world to take your breath away?”

She understood. She wasn’t sure she wanted to examine whether or not she could bring herself to believe in magic, never mind what she’d seen and ridden, but she could understand the thrill of wondering what might lie around the corner.

Acair offered her his arm. “I can see you have taken a figurative step down that very dangerous path. I’ve been walking it for years, so allow me to point out the pitfalls. The first is not taking advantage of decent meals whenever they’re offered, so off we go to supper before you plot a course to that horse haven in the East.”

She could have told him she had no intention of traveling so far, but she hadn’t intended to leave Sàraichte either. She sighed, took his arm, then walked with him out of the stables and into a beautiful, chilly twilight. She avoided that spot of shadow almost out of habit, then paused on the steps leading up to Hearn’s great hall.