“And?” she prodded.
He pulled her closer and wrapped his cloak around her. “If you must know the particulars, I did indeed promise Simeon power in trade for the book that is currently leaving bruises on my poor back.”
She was shivering because it was very cold out, not because the thought was so ridiculous she could hardly stop herself from snorting in derision.
Surely.
“So, this isn’t just a nasty rumor started by the king of those elves?” she asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
She took a deep breath. “Did you manage it?”
“Sadly, nay,” he said, “and that wasn’t for a lack of trying, believe me. I beg you not to force me to reveal any of the more humiliating particulars. There are many and each equally unflattering.”
“I’m surprised you failed.”
“Ah, your faith in my ability to make mischief is heartening, to say the very least.” He sighed deeply. “I will admit that Simeon’s spellbook was something I wanted rather badly, as you might gather from the lengths I was willing to go to in order to have it.”
“I’m not surprised by that.”
“I am a simple man,” he agreed, “with simple needs.”
She was too tired to even smile. “I suppose he wouldn’t have merely let you have a look out of the goodness of his heart.”
Acair snorted. “The man is notoriously stingy. It was all or nothing, as they say. He was willing to part with the entire thing in return for power enough to restore his kingdom back to rights, but that was the only bargain he was willing to make.” He paused. “It begs the question of where all that power went to begin with. Was it lost at the gaming table with his crown or had it been already lost and the wager was an attempt to regain it? Whatever the case, Diarmailt has certainly suffered for it.”
“His home was a bit worn around the edges,” she said, “for something meant to be a palace.”
“The whole bloody country could use a bit of sprucing up,” he agreed. “As for any bargain we might or might not have made, in the end I was forced to offer my regrets when I wasn’t able to obtain what I needed for the trade.”
She pulled away far enough to frown at him. “So you went ahead and stole the book just the same?”
“I hadn’t intended to steal it,” he said, sounding offended. “I was just planning on having a look, memorizing the useful bits as I went along.” He looked at her archly. “If you must know, I wasn’t entirely certain that rustic gadfly you went off with tonight was capable of keeping you safe. I thought being to hand might be useful. If I happened to linger in the king’s solar whilst on that errand, well, so much the better.”
“You are incorrigible,” she said in disbelief.
“Opportunistic,” he said, “which seems to go along quite nicely with all that altruism that afflicts me like a constant rash. Unfortunately, tonight I was forced by circumstances I hadn’t planned on to simply filch and flee, as my mother might term it.”
“You could have left the book undisturbed, you know.”
“I could have, but I didn’t want to because Simeon is a colossal ass—and a rather dangerous one.” He frowned fiercely. “There it is again, that damnable impulse to do good that I am finding myself less and less able to control. I should leave the whole bloody world to its own sorry fate, but there I seem to go, endlessly into the breach.” He looked at her seriously. “You must admit that he is a vile little man.”
She let out her breath slowly. “I didn’t trust him.”
“Neither do I, which is why I wonder what it was in his book that could possibly be worth such a price.”
“You haven’t looked yet?”
“Haven’t had time for anything but a glance. So far, it is absolute rubbish. Hardly the sort of stuff that one might use in ruling a large kingdom, unless one fancies childish spells of revenge and nastiness.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I had intended to have a look at it overnight, then leave it with my tailor on our way out of the city. He would certainly have found a way to see it returned to the proper royal hands.”
She shivered. “Impossible now.”
“Thoroughly. Now, ’tis left to me to find another way to return it to Simeon with a polite note of regret over the tome having inadvertently fallen into my clutching hands.” He shrugged. “One attends to social niceties as best one can.” He leaned past her a bit to look up and down the street, then nodded. “We should go whilst we can.”
She took his proffered hand and was probably more relieved than she should have been that his fingers weren’t chilly. It was ridiculous perhaps, but she was more comfortable when Acair of Ceangail was striding off to do foul deeds than when he was hesitating to do the same.
“Is the king vengeful?” she asked quietly as they walked. “Or was that just my impression of him at the palace?”
“He’s a right proper bastard, but without any of the charm and elegance possessed by the rest of us,” Acair said easily. “Vindictive enough to murder those who cross him, surely.”
“Did Master Odhran vex him?”
He paused in mid-step, then continued on, frowning thoughtfully. “I wondered the same thing, but there was something about that scene in the front of his shop that struck me as odd. I’ll have to give it thought when we’re free of the city and relaxing in front of a hot fire.”
“Any ideas on where that fire might be found?” she asked, fully expecting to hear that such a thing lingered in some mythical elven king’s hall she would never manage to reach.
“I believe we might wish to make a visit to my mother.”
Léirsinn swallowed with no small amount of difficulty. “Isn’t she a witch?”
“A superior specimen of the same,” he said cheerfully, “but I am her favorite son and you breathe fire. We’ll at least have a decent meal out of her before she comes to a decision about how long she’ll allow us to live. All in all, not our most pressing worry.”
He said it with ease, but she suspected he didn’t mean it as easily. She understood. The journey to Eòlas had been dangerous, their time spent there too short, and what they were taking away was apparently not very useful.
Never mind the message she supposed Acair had tucked into his purse with the other one he’d been given in Tor Neroche.
“Let’s go fetch our pony and be away,” Acair said. “Lovely night for flying, what’s left of it.”
She had several things to say about any sort of night that might require them to fly and lovely didn’t find itself on that list. But she was traveling with a black mage who was being pursued by a nameless enemy and he’d just added an angry monarch to his own list of unlovely things.
She sincerely hoped that might be the last of the unpleasant things they would need to put there.
Six
Acair kept to the shadows, though he had to admit he wondered why he bothered.