It was either good fortune or an ability to sprint perfectedthanks to many years of eluding ne’er-do-wells on her way back from town, but she avoided being caught on the gates as they closed. Acair had to leave his cloak behind, but she imagined he thought it a light price to pay, all things considered. She continued to run with him until they reached at least the minimal protection of the trees that were a bit farther away than they’d looked at first glance.
Acair skidded to a halt and she ran full into his back before she realized what he was doing. She supposed the only reason she didn’t flatten him was because Mansourah caught them both. She heaved herself upright, then felt something unpleasant run through her at the look on the prince’s face.
“We need to run,” he said quickly.
“Why?” Acair wheezed, then he shook his head. “Don’t answer. Pick a direction.”
“Take your horse,” Mansourah said urgently. “I’ll hide us as we fly. I say west, but that’s only because I think we’re being driven in that direction.”
Léirsinn flung herself onto Sianach’s back as if she’d been doing the same for years, didn’t complain as Acair almost knocked her off as he scrambled up behind her, then thought she just might have to give that horse-turned-dragon an extra measure of grain the next time they were in a barn for having so thoughtfully provided her with reins.
“I don’t know that we’ll manage this one,” Mansourah said, standing on the ground next to them. “There are things coming after us that we won’t like.”
“My grandmother’s minions,” Acair said dismissively. “Easily eluded.”
Mansourah looked at him seriously. “I don’t think so,” he said frankly. “Not this time.”
Then he disappeared.
Léirsinn had become unfortunately familiar with the sort of spell Mansourah used to hide not only his tracks but theirs. She could still see herself, so she wasn’t entirely sure what good it would do them. At the moment, perhaps any help was good help.
She forced herself to breathe normally instead of wheezing with what she didn’t want to call fear. Acair’s grandmother had advised her to send that sort of feeling to the back of the barn, which sounded a bit better when one was sitting in relative comfort in front of a fire instead of climbing fiercely up into the night sky on the back of an invisible dragon.
At least they hadn’t encountered any pools of shadow—
She frowned and considered that, probably more grateful than she should have been for something to think on besides how far off the ground she was. Just as shehadn’tin Eòlas, she hadn’t seen a single spot of shadow in Acair’s grandmother’s house. She hadn’t seen any pieces of Acair’s stray soul lying about there either, but it was possible she’d been more distracted than she’d realized.
Either way, it was odd.
She also hadn’t seen anything untoward at Acair’s mother’s house—save the witchwoman of Fàs herself, of course—but perhaps nothing was able to grow in the shadow of that mighty tree.
She considered that for a bit, then shook her head. The women in Acair’s family were powerful witches who likely didn’t allow anything unusual to take root on their land and in Eòlas, but she’d been too distracted by circumstances to have a proper look at anything.
Surely.
“Léirsinn.”
She pulled herself away from her thoughts only to realizehow far they’d come without her having noticed it. The sky was beginning to grow light in the east. She twisted a bit to look at Acair.
“What?”
He looked grimmer than she’d ever seen him before.
“We’re going to have to go faster.”
Damn that fear she hadn’t been able to entirely dismiss. “Why?” she managed, her mouth utterly dry.
He pointed over his shoulder, but perhaps that hadn’t been necessary. It wasn’t a cloud of mage following them, nor was it a darkness made by things she imagined Fionne of Fàs could send scampering with her wand.
It was something entirely different.
“Hold on,” was the last thing he said before Sianach turned himself into something just a bit more substantial than a terrifyingly fierce bit of wind.
She hoped she could.
Sixteen
Acair had never thought all those years spent honing the ability to bolt past his brothers in absolute silence no matter the terrain would ever be so critical to his survival.
