She knew that, of course. She’d simply been hoping her ears had been failing her. Traveling to their current locale seemed like a great deal of fuss for not much at all. “You couldn’t have found a copy of this book somewhere else?”
He opened his mouth, then shut it and shook his head. “Nay, though you’ve no idea how it pains me to say as much. The damned thing is of my own make, unfortunately, and whilst I usually make at least one copy of my notes to hide elsewhere, in this instance I was in a hurry and therefore less careful than I should have been.” He shrugged. “I would prefer not to be here, but here we are.”
She was tempted to ask him why he didn’t just stash things under his bed, but for all she knew, he didn’t have a bed, never mind a home to call his own. Perhaps he was forced to hide hispriceless treasures in odd places just to keep them safe. Given that he seemed to endlessly travel the world, she wouldn’t have been surprised.
The idea that she might travel the world in a similar fashion had honestly never occurred to her. In fact, if anyone had suggested the possibility of it to her even a pair of months before, she would have stabbedthemwith a pitchfork to give them relief from their stupidity. Getting herself even from her uncle’s stables in Briàghde across the hill to Sàraichte, nothing more than a leisurely hour’s walk, had seemed the very limit of what she could do. It had never crossed her mind that she might someday travel farther than that, never mind all the way across the Nine Kingdoms.
Yet there she was, hundreds of leagues from the only home she truly remembered, keeping company with a terrible black mage on holiday from his usual business of wreaking havoc, and looking forward to a nap in lodgings that had been sought for them by a prince of the royal house of Neroche. She had seen elves, mages, and horses worth a king’s ransom. She had encountered kindness she hadn’t deserved and refuge she hadn’t dared hope for. It had been an adventure beyond her wildest imaginings and she knew it was far from over.
It couldn’t be over yet because apart from the fairly pressing need to avoid having her uncle slay her, she had Acair’s promise that once he’d done what he needed to, he would rescue her very ill grandfather from that same uncle’s house. She was prepared to entertain all sorts of ridiculous notions of magic and mages in return for that aid.
That was, she admitted freely, why she found herself where she was with the task that was set before her, namely keeping an eye out for shadows lying on the ground. Not just any sorts ofshadows, of course, such as might have been made by ordinary people standing just so against the sun, or the odd planter placed just outside a pub door to catch whatever light might be had. Nay, the shadows she was meant to be looking for were created by magic.
It was daft, of course, something she continued to tell herself because it allowed her to continue to breathe normally. She absolutely refused to admit that she might or might not have had her own unsettling experience with those spots of shadow where shadows shouldn’t be found. With any luck, while about her looking she might manage to stumble over her missing wits.
She didn’t hold out much hope for it.
“I think we’d best be off looking for that hapless prince of Neroche before he finds himself entangled in some madness or other,” Acair said heavily. “He is definitely not the brightest flame that family has produced.”
“He seems chivalrous enough,” she offered.
“The man might know how to offer an arm at the right time,” Acair conceded, “but that is the absolute limit of his gifts. I’d avoid him at all costs, were I you.”
“What did he do to irritate you so?”
Acair reached for her hand and looked briefly both up and down the way before he pulled her into the crowd. “I would give you a list, but there is the lad himself. One can only hope he’s found somewhere suitable for us to sleep tonight.”
She supposed her standards for lodging were far below what either of her companions might consider acceptable because at the moment all she wanted was somewhere flat and unmoving to cast herself.
“Finally,” Prince Mansourah said in disbelief, stopping infront of them and causing several passersby to hurl curses at him. “Where have you been?”
“Waiting for you where we agreed to wait for you,” Acair said with exaggerated politeness, “and all the while holding out a desperate hope that you would take a set of chambers somewhere discreet.”
Mansourah glared at him. “I did, and I paid for them in local currency so as not to attract any notice.”
“Then my skepticism is quite happily allayed,” Acair said, “though I doubt that will last for long. Lead on and pray assure me there is a decent pub nearby as well.”
“There is, though if I had any sense I would leave you scrambling to wash platters in return for your meal instead of putting myself out to pay for your breakfast myself.”
Acair favored Mansourah with a look that Léirsinn imagined had sent more than one nobleman’s butler scurrying for cover.
“I have coin enough,” he said coolly. “Whilst I am not at my liberty to fill my own purse, my half-sister, your brother’s thoughtful wife, was kind enough to do it for me, so please don’t concern yourself about my poor tum. I have sufficient for myself and my lady without ruining my hands.”
Mansourah pursed his lips. “Then your delicate fingers are safe for the moment, I suppose. Follow me and we’ll see ourselves settled first.”
Léirsinn was fairly certain Acair had made some sort of less-than-polite comment about Mansourah’s tendency to find himself lost in the weeds while about any sort of meaningful quest, but she decided to let it pass. The sooner she could escape the press of city-dwellers getting on with their business for the day, the happier she would be. She glanced at Acair as they walked.
“How do you feed yourself?” she asked. “If that isn’t too personal a question.”
He shook his head. “My life is an open book, as they say. I mostly manage to find myself invited to supper at one superior table or another, which keeps me from starving. When I require funds, I go about acquiring them in the usual way.”
She looked at him sternly. “If you use the word I can scarce bear to utter, I will do damage to you.”
“Magic can be fairly useful,” he said with a smile, “when you think about it.”
She wasn’t about to dignify that with any sort of response, not that there would have been a decent response for it. That happy time when she had lived her life blissfully unaware of anything but the rich smells of green grass, steaming oats, and freshly baled hay was gone. Being something just short of an indentured servant in her uncle’s stables had been difficult, but there had been a certain peace that had come with living in such innocence. Things of a troubling and capricious nature had been easily relegated to her imagination while the tales her parents had told her in her childhood had been consigned to fanciful imaginings with equal ease.
Now, though, a being once relegated to her imagination was walking beside her, muttering under his breath about peasants, princes, and the condition of the boots he was wearing that were most definitely not his own.
