He was coming very close to lying, which he imagined she knew, but he wasn’t about to say aloud that if he were dead, he wanted her to be able to escape to a land that contained someone powerful enough to protect her from the mage loitering outside.
Those safe havens were going to be, he feared, fewer than either of them would have wanted.
He considered, then decided perhaps ’twas best to have the uncomfortable conversations over with before he began his work.
“If something happens to me—”
“You’d best make sure it doesn’t,” she said fiercely.
“I will reward you properly for that when I have a lengthy moment,” he said with a smile, “but whilst we’re both not in the middle of peril, I’m going to give you a list.”
“But,” she began, then she stopped. “Very well.”
“You don’t have my enemies,” he said, having a fairly good idea of where she’d been going with that. “You do, however, have a very powerful one out there, so you need to find someone who can protect you. You know I will never willingly give up that spot next to you that I so richly deserve by virtue simply of my massive amounts of charm and—dare I say it?—very fine kisses.”
She blushed. He was fairly certain of it.
“You talk too much,” she said weakly.
“My worst failing, right behind having too many vile spells,” he agreed. “But let’s discuss the very unlikely possibility that you might need help from someone besides me. Soilléir will be your best choice, as much as it galls me to admit as much. I’m guessing he’ll be at the schools of wizardry, though I imagine he’ll have a fair idea of where we are just the same.”
“I don’t want to run into that Droch person,” she said with a shiver.
“Not after our having stolen—”
“You stole him.”
“Not after my having stolen a horse he wanted,” Acair said. “We might consider Inntrig, instead. Seannair would be able to keep you safe and send for Soilléir. If you’re on the other side of the mountains, go to Hearn or my father’s parents.”
“Your grandparents.”
He had to take a bit of a breath over that. “Aye, my grandparents. Miach and Mhorghain would also be able to keep you safe. I might even pause before going up against that lad, young and green as he is.”
“This list sounds a little familiar,” she said slowly.
“It is,” he agreed, “but there’s a reason for that. Whilst there might be others who could give you a safe harbor, those are the souls I would actually trust.”
“But it isn’t going to be a concern because you’re going to do what you do with those,” she said, waving at the coins with a hand she’d pulled out from under his, “and that’s going to be enough.”
If her hand wasn’t steady, he thought it only polite not to make any note of it.
“It will be. Now, let’s see what we have already.”
She slid what he’d retrieved from Uachdaran’s throne over to their right. “Death.”
“Very useful, but fairly permanent. We have five coins here, so I’ll make you five spells. We’ll use more powerful spells on higher value coins, does that suit?”
She nodded, though she looked rather ill. He shared the feeling, actually. If something happened to him and he left her—
He pushed aside the thought and concentrated on what was before him. He set the sovereign aside for use with something he was fairly sure she wasn’t going to like, then looked at the remaining four. He thought for a moment, then looked at her.
“You can make fire and contain things.”
“I also did make werelight last night.”
And so she had. Sìle, he suspected, might not even slay him if he ever had the pleasure of watching Léirsinn work a spell that didn’t immediately explode into something quite different. Fadaire was very circumspect when it came to that kind of thing, or perhaps it drew some restraint from the spell that occasionally sparkled on Léirsinn’s arm.
“You did,” he agreed, “and you were brilliant at it. As for these, let’s make un-noticing, fettering, some sort of shield, and distraction.”
“Distraction?”
He realized he was making a copy of what Sladaiche already had of his, but perhaps if used together, they would cancel each other out and leave Léirsinn happily making a successful escape in a different direction.
He looked at her carefully. “It will create shadows all around whomever you fling it at, causing him a great deal of frustration and a decent reason to start screaming. I suggest you fling and turn away.”
“I’ve seen what you can do,” she said quietly. “I’ll take that advice. What’s the last one for?”
He picked it up and fingered it for a moment or two, then looked at her. “Shapechanging.”
She gaped at him. “Me?”
He nodded. “You’ll decide on a shape, then clap your hands together with it between your palms. I suggest wind, but that’s just me. You’ll be invisible and able to flee.”
“But,” she said faintly, “how will I—well, I won’t need to use it, so never mind.”
“I don’t think you will,” he said carefully, “but should that change, you’ll use this, then make a leisurely journey to one of those souls we’ve discussed. They’ll help you return to your proper form. I’ll make that so even Soilléir won’t have to work too hard to remove the spell.”
She attempted a smile. “Will you two ever share a companionable mug of ale?”
“Doubtful,” he said, “but I do trust him with this much.”
He didn’t add that trusting the whoreson hadn’t worked out all that well for him so far, but he thought in this the man might be able to confine himself to simply removing a spell, not making any untoward additions.
“Do you want me to leave you to this?” she asked.
He hesitated. “I might go into my study, if you wouldn’t be offended. The work on the first four isn’t difficult, but the last one will be.”
“I’ll make some soup, then.” She looked at him quickly. “We have everything needful inside.”
He rose, pulled her up into his arms, and held her until he supposed if he didn’t let her go, he wouldn’t manage to.
“An hour,” he said, “no more.”