The truth was, there was only one other place in the whole of the Nine Kingdoms he wanted to visit less than he wanted to skip off to his maternal grandmother’s house, but things were what they were.
“Of course,” Acair said. He reached for Léirsinn’s hand. “I’m sure we’ll be invited in for tea.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Mansourah said honestly. “Any more cousins I need to keep a watch out for?”
“And by telling you as much, rob any of those cousins of the opportunity to pursue your charming self?” Acair said. “I think discretion is the order of the day.” He looked at Léirsinn. “Let’s be off, shall we? More delightful adventures await.”
She said nothing, but he could tell she was worried. He would have reassured her that he had everything under control, but the truth was, he didn’t.
He started to march off with a cheery spring to his step, but it was difficult. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he feltabsolutely shattered by what he’d seen. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find inside that house, but it hadn’t been what he’d seen. Damned unnerving, that.
He also didn’t appreciate that rubbish his dam had foisted off on him about his needing to collect bits of his soul that he’d left behind. Surely an insignificant piece of naughtiness such as the one perpetrated in that house didn’t count. If he’d left anything behind, it had been his dignity, courtesy of his hasty flight away from the bloody place.
But the worst thing of all was his inability to shake the sensation he had of being watched.
He glanced casually at Mansourah only to find the prince of Neroche studying him with a hint of a frown creasing his noble brow. He prided himself on his ability to carry on an unspoken conversation across a ballroom, so he saw no reason not to attempt the same at the moment.
Do you sense that we’re being observed?was what he would have asked but imagined he didn’t need to.
Dolt, what do you think?
Acair mouthed a vile insult and had a smirk in return. He turned away and shook his head. What was the world coming to when he could exchange friendly banter with an insufferably virtuous royal of that stripe and not have tummy upset afterward?
He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
What he did know, however, was that whoever was watching them was playing a terrible game of chess. Perhaps it wasn’t even as lofty as that. He felt a bit like a mouse in a stall, darting frantically about whilst being watched by a fat, lazy cat who blocked the only exit. Time was being bided, and he had the feeling he was intended to know the same.
All the more reason not to be absolutely helpless in the face of that deadly game.
He would see what his granny’s inner sanctum had to offer in the way of details he might need. He wasn’t sure at the moment if it was more critical to identify who was stalking him or who had made the spell that was also stalking him. It was odd how both seemed to be about the same foul work. He didn’t want to believe that both were linked to the same mage, but what did he know?
Nothingwas what he knew, nothing past the need to keep Léirsinn safe and unravel the threads tightening around him.
He set his face forward and carriedon.
Thirteen
There were strange things afoot in the Nine Kingdoms.
Léirsinn could scarce believe she was considering the like. She who had never given thought to anything past what the port town of Sàraichte might hold for her, now contemplating the state of the entire world? It was almost too ridiculous to be believed.
She wasn’t sure that word didn’t apply itself rather handily to the whole of her life at present. Her current circumstances were proof enough of that.
She had recently flown—flown, not ridden—for endless hours on the back of a black dragon who tended to nip if his master got too close but who liked to nudge her hand or warm her feet with his remarkably soft, fire-snorting nose. She was wearing clothing gifted her by a witch who seemed to believe she might beengaging in nefarious doings in her future and should be dressed appropriately.
That same witch had sent her son on a quest to search for lost parts of his soul, though what he was supposed to do with them if he found them was anyone’s guess. She had listened to Acair and his mother discuss the particulars on the way out the door the morning before and only her own vast amounts of self-control earned over years of refraining from snorting had kept her from doing the same then.
Or at least it had until she’d gone to that dusty, deserted little house and had a good look inside. Alook, if she could term that business properly.
She’d been a little surprised by the lack of spells, true, or anything that might have indicated it was a mage’s house. What had left her speechless had been seeing that lad of ten summers, or, rather, the faintest shadow of a lad of about ten summers, trapped on a piece of wood that had seemingly splintered off the main door.
She’d suspected that she’d been looking at a part of Acair’s soul.
The strangest thing of all had been watching Acair’s minder spell reach for that piece of soul’s hand and pull it along with them as they fled—
She pulled herself away from that memory before it unnerved her more than it had originally. She forced herself to concentrate on the business at hand, which seemed limited at the moment to standing a few paces away from two men who alternated between insulting each other and—an admittedly recent development—considering nefarious plans together. If she’d been a more frivolous woman, she might have decided that she had stared at their painfully handsome selves a bit too long and itwas time to look for somewhere to sit before she swooned into a snowbank.
She wasn’t one to feel fragile very often. It took a certain amount of spine to face off with four-footed stallions. She was accustomed to correcting ponies with a sharp tongue and keeping stable lads in check with nothing but a look. Those two there were definitely not stable hands, however, and she was so far out of her normal routine that all she felt capable of at the moment was staring at them stupidly and wondering how anyone managed to get anything done with them in view.
