“The address of my tailor, rather,” Acair said with a casual shrug. “You might find it useful.”
Mansourah looked as if he were toying with the idea of taking one of the arrows in the quiver slung over his shoulder andplunging it into Acair’s chest. Normally, Acair wouldn’t have even yawned over such a possibility, but things were as they were and his only protections were threats and the rather unsatisfactory dagger stashed down the side of his boot. He reached out and clapped Mansourah companionably on the shoulder. If his hand got in the way of the man reaching for an arrow, perhaps it could be considered saving time and trouble for those who swept the streets.
“Just having a bit of sport at your expense, old bean,” he said soothingly. “I’m here for my usual sort of thing: state secrets, terrible spells, and quite potentially the address of my father’s bootmaker. You might want to order a pair whilst we’re there. That ought to take up our afternoon quite nicely.”
Mansourah glared at him, then turned a much more pleasant look on Léirsinn. “Please, get me away from him.”
Léirsinn took his arm, then looked over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows. Acair smiled briefly at her, then settled for walking behind the pair. He was followed by his own constant shadow, a spell of death that was apparently charged with keeping him from turning vexatious princes into steaming piles of dung. He hadn’t hit upon a way to rid himself of the damned thing yet, but that was definitely high up on his list of things to do. Obviously, the sooner he was able to be back to the business of proper black magery, the better.
He watched the crowd as he followed his companions toward the library’s front doors. Those souls were students for the most part, lads and lassies fortunate enough to study at the university surrounding what was arguably the largest library in all the Nine Kingdoms. Perhaps not the most interesting collection of books, but definitely the largest. He wasn’t troubled by the press, but he could tell by the way Léirsinn was occasionally flinchingthat she was. He leaned forward and tapped Mansourah smartly on the shoulder.
“Put her between yourself and the wall, dolt.”
Mansourah apologized profusely, then did as he’d been bid. Acair turned back to watching for thugs and wondering just what sort of hornet’s nest he might stir up with an innocent visit to the small collection of tomes he kept hidden in plain sight among other books of catastrophically boring subjects. His trio of books was covered in his own spells, spells which were designed to render them uninteresting to anyone with a merely rudimentary command of magic.
But he wasn’t interested in lesser mages.
He was looking for a lad with power to match his own, perhaps. At any other time, such a thought would have had him perking up his ears and preparing a few dire things for use in a tight spot, but things were what they were at the moment. The best he could do was see whom he provoked, then be out of the vicinity when the storm arrived.
The truth was, he knew he was being watched. He knew that because the watcher had recently sent along a missive telling him as much. His catalog of enemies was substantial and, it had to be noted, very well deserved. But this felt different somehow. He was accustomed to outraged monarchs and papas coming after him for wives, daughters, and priceless treasures he might or might not have absconded with, but this... this was something else entirely. He wasn’t sure whom he could have possibly angered recently in light of all the damned do-gooding he’d been engaged in, but there you had it. Life on the wrong side of black magery was unpredictable. If he could solve that with a little nipping in and out of the library, so much the better.
If he also used his time wisely enough to acquire a new pair of boots and perhaps a decent shirt or two, who could blame him?
They continued on toward the library. Acair patted himself figuratively on the back several times for resisting the urge to pull the dagger from his boot and slide it between Mansourah’s ribs for spending more time chatting with that beautiful woman on his arm than he did watching where he was going. At least there wasn’t much opportunity for getting lost between where they were and the library’s front doors. Mansourah came to a halt a dozen paces away from the same, then stood there, frowning thoughtfully. Acair waited until it became painful to continue.
“What?” he asked shortly.
“I’ve been thinking,” Mansourah said slowly.
“Ye gads, not that,” Acair said before he could stop himself.
Mansourah gave him a look that Acair had to admit left him almost impressed.
“You realize most everything precious resides in glass cases,” Mansourah said pointedly. “Protected by impenetrable spells.”
“The quality of those spells is debatable,” Acair said with a shrug, “but aye, I realize that.”
“But if your book is hidden in such a place, how are you going to get past all that magic?”
Acair sighed. “Let me walk you through this gently. If you were me—and you’ll never manage that so don’t try—and you wanted to hide a perilous book, where, with your superior intellect and cleverness, would you hide it?”
“Behind glass and impenetrable spells, of course.”
Acair studied him. “The trouble with you, my young friend, is that you fail to use any imagination when presented with theseconundrums. If you have a priceless treasure, you don’t hide it behind something that screamsI’m hiding something priceless behind myself!You hide the damned thing in plain sight.”
Mansourah looked thoroughly baffled. “You’re not afraid someone will simply pick it up and walk off with it?”
“Not when it’s slathered with the kinds of spells I prefer to use for that sort of slathering.”
Mansourah looked at Léirsinn. “I don’t know how you haven’t pushed him off the back of your horse before now.”
“I have a strong stomach.”
Acair would have preferred a compliment about his flawless face, but he had dragged her places she hadn’t wanted to go. He had also called her hairred, which didn’t begin to describe the glorious fire of that mane she was currently hiding under the hood of her cloak. He vowed to compliment her properly on not only her locks but her strong stomach later, then looked at Mansourah.
“We’ll walk in as normal patrons, go to the appropriate spot without garnering any notice, then I’ll retrieve my book. I suggest we not linger over any fashion papers, which I’m sure will be a great blow to you.”
Mansourah bit back something, his agreement no doubt. He considered, then looked at Acair. “And your book is behind spells.”
