“Rubbish,” she said faintly.
“Or not, but we can argue that later. It is also possible if a mage is either exceptionally gifted or perhaps even more cynical, to take a decent amount of his own power and bind it into some small object along with a spell of his choice. Elves do it constantly with their damned runes they draw on each other for their own fathomless purposes.”
“Why?” she asked, though she honestly wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
He shrugged lightly. “Such a thing might come in handy if a mage didn’t particularly care to make a display of his own mighty power.”
“Or if he couldn’t use any of that mighty power?”
He looked at her seriously. “Precisely.”
She found she had absolutely nothing to say to that. All she could do was stare at him and wonder how she had ever become caught up in events so far beyond her ken. She was fairly sure it had all begun in a barn, which she knew she should have found appalling somehow.
“The spell I’m seeking,” Acair continued, “has the delightful ability to explode into scores of shadows that then distract and disorient an enemy. Better still, as we’ve already discussed, it requires nothing more to set events in motion other than to find itself flung in the proper direction.”
She set aside her first instinct, which was to roll her eyes, and forced herself to think in a different way. She considered, then looked at him. “Could anyone use something like that, or must you be a . . . well, you know.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding knowingly, “now it begins. Thinking to take it out for a trot around the meadow if you find it first?”
“Perish the thought,” she said without hesitation. “I’m just wondering about the danger of someone else finding it before we do.”
“More an annoyance than a danger,” he said, “but I would rather have it in my pocket than someone else’s. Hence my interest in Master Odhran’s work chamber.”
She wasn’t about to argue with him, and she absolutely didn’t want to know anything else. Unfortunately, she felt something run down her spine, her own fear or perhaps even the icy breath of someone she hadn’t seen come into the chamber. She glanced over her shoulder to make certain they were still alone, then watched Acair continue to sift through his tailor’s scribblings.
She didn’t see anything that looked out of the ordinary, but what did she know? She was a stable hand with a love for horses and a healthy skepticism for anything she couldn’t, as Acair had so correctly put it, take out for a trot through a meadow. She was accustomed to scanning the earth for unstable footing, not—
She put her hand on Acair’s arm more suddenly than she meant to, but he didn’t seem to mind. She pointed to the corner of something that was peeking out from beneath a pile he had yet to go through.
Acair took the piece of paper with a hand that was far steadier than hers holding the candle. He glanced at her, then took the candle from her and held it over the missive.
I’m watching you, but you knew that . . .
“Rubbish,” he said crisply.
That wouldn’t have been her word for it, but she didn’t think she needed to say as much. “It looks familiar,” she offered.
He pursed his lips. “Are you telling me that when I examined a similar piece of refuse in Mochriademiach of Neroche’s private solar, you were merely pretending to doze in front of his fire?”
“I’m a light sleeper,” she said, “and you were swearing rather loudly at the time.”
“I was expressing a polite bit of dismay.”
“You almost put out the king’s fire with your shouting—”
The sudden banging on the front door sent her stumbling into his side. He shoved the missive into a pocket, smothered the candle flame, then reached for her hand.
“Side door,” he said quickly. “Trust me.”
Surprisingly enough, she did. She took a brief moment to appreciate the concessions Master Odhran had apparently made for those who might want to make a less-than-visible exit from his shop, then followed Acair quickly out into the night.
She was lost within moments, but that didn’t surprise her. She hadn’t been able to keep track of all the twists and turns they’d taken simply to get to the tailor’s shop. Running through alleyways and as many unlit streets as possible left her utterly disoriented. The only thing that eased her mind any was realizing that the doorway Acair soon found for them to rest in was empty and the pounding she was hearing was only the blood thundering in her ears, not booted feet chasing them.
She propped herself up against the very worn doorway and looked at him, leaning over as he was, gasping for air with almost as much enthusiasm as she was herself.
“Were those palace guards?” she whispered.
“More than likely.” He heaved himself upright, then collapsed back against the door with her. “Not lads I would care to encounter at the moment.”
“Have they come after the book you have?”
He hesitated. “Possibly.”
She shot him a look. “Are you going to explain, or should I guess?”
He chewed on his words for a moment or two, then sighed deeply. “’Tis possible that the king made a bargain with an extremely powerful and canny mage to exchange this unimpressive book of spells for a rather generous amount of the world’s power.”
She wondered if the time would come where she was no longer surprised by what came out of his mouth. “Is that what you did?”
He opened his mouth—no doubt to give her the entire tale—then swore softly instead at the sound of a shout or two in the distance. He pulled her over more fully into the shadows of the alcove. Shadow was, of course, not a word she was particularly fond of for reasons she didn’t need to explain to herself.
It was also fairly inaccurate given that the whole damned place was dark. They had definitely left behind anywhere that boasted streetlamps, something she suspected Acair had planned. She could scarce make out his face in the darkness, but she supposed she didn’t need to look for signs of lying. His greatest fault, according to the man himself, was his lamentable propensity to always tell the truth.
It also wasn’t as if she needed him to give her the particulars. She had recently listened to an elven king and his lads go on at length about Acair’s having attempted to steal quite a few things, including all the world’s magic. At the time, she had thought the entire lot of them absolutely barking. Now, though, she had to admit she could see it was exactly something Acair would have done.
That she was taking any of it seriously . . . well, she was past the point where she could do anything but shake her head over her ability to accept things she wouldn’t have wasted the effort to disbelieve but a fortnight earlier. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wood of the door behind her until the voices had faded and they were left with nothing but silence. She opened her eyes and looked at her companion.