“A piece of your soul?”
“For all the good it does me,” he said. “Why don’t you hold onto it and we’ll corner Soilléir before he scampers off. Perhaps he can open my chest and shove it in there with everything else rattling around in the vicinity of my heart.”
She put it back in the pocket of his coat, then looked at him.
“I’m happy to have this all over with,” she said quietly.
“You might be, but I’ve still relatives to impress. Speaking of, perhaps we should gather them up and go see about your grandfather.”
She started to agree, then realized there were three people coming toward them. Acair heaved himself to his feet, then held down his hand for her. She rose, then looked at the siblings she’d thought had perished. She wasn’t entirely sure what to say to them, but realized there was no need.
Her sister walked up to her and put her arms around her. She felt her brother’s arms go around them both. She would have wept, but she was out of tears and too exhausted to go look for any more. It was enough to know she wasn’t alone any longer—
Only she hadn’t been anyway.
She stepped away and looked at the man who had changed that. She reached for his hand and pulled him over to stand with them.
“Acair, this is my sister, Iseabail. Iseabail, you perhaps know Acair of Ceangail?”
Acair made her a low bow that almost left him on the ground in front of them all. Léirsinn caught him and moved past that before anyone said anything untoward.
“Acair, my brother, Taisdealach. You might call him—”
“Or he might not,” Tais said. He looked at Acair coolly. “I’ve heard tales.”
“They’re likely all true,” she said cheerfully. “But I love him and he’s kept me safe, so be good to him or face my fury.”
Acair was apparently accustomed to that sort of reception, which she’d already known. He simply inclined his head at her brother and smiled politely.
“A pleasure,” he said cordially.
Her brother scowled, but he didn’t resort to any slurs so perhaps there was hope. She smiled at Acair.
“Where now? To Briàghde?”
“I think that might be best,” he agreed. “Let’s go fetch our gear.”
“I’ll meet you there,” Tais said briskly. “Don’t dawdle.”
She watched her brother step back and simply disappear. She blinked, then gaped at her sister. “He has magic?”
“All of it,” Iseabail said.
“How do you know? Did you know each other all this time? Did you know I was alive?”
She found her sister’s arms suddenly around her. “Let’s finish what we must, then we’ll talk. And nay, I didn’t know anything until a few weeks ago, but you can blame Soilléir for that.”
Léirsinn looked at her as she stepped away. “But you have magic as well?”
Iseabail shrugged. “I have a bit. Well, I have a great deal, I just never know if it’s going to do what I want it to.” She looked at Soilléir and held out her hand toward him. “Will you help me shapechange?”
He took her hand and smiled. “With pleasure, my dear.”
They disappeared without fuss.
Léirsinn stared at the spot where they had stood but a moment before, then looked at Acair.
“What did I just witness?”
“Something I wish I could unsee,” he said with feeling.
“He’s far too old for her.”
“She’s far too good for him. If it makes either of us feel better, he calls everyone my dear.”
“He doesn’t call you that.”
“Darling, what he calls me isn’t fit for a lady’s ears.” He picked up the bolts, then looked at her. “Let’s hide these behind a planter, then fetch our gear and find our horse. I’m too tired to shapechange.”
She thought that was odd, but it had been a long evening preceded by several longer weeks. She nodded and took his hand.
She decided it might be best not to mention that it was trembling.
He was tired, that was all.
Walking up the path toward her uncle’s barn—her step-father’s brother’s barn, to be precise—was one of the odder things she had experienced in a long string of unusual things. She had spent so much of her life there, most all of it that she could remember, but she felt as if she were viewing the place with a stranger’s eyes.
The barn was smaller than she remembered, but tidy and useful. The house, however, was almost unimpressive.
No wonder Fuadain was such a miserable man.
She saw her siblings standing with Soilléir just outside the gates. The sight was so unexpected, she stumbled a bit, then found herself caught and pulled back so abruptly, she almost lost her balance. She looked at Acair in surprise, but he was only staring at a spot in front of her. She would have stepped right into that pool of shadow where shadows shouldn’t have been if he hadn’t stopped her.
“Would you make werelight, love?” he asked quietly.
She wondered why he didn’t do it himself, but he likely had his reasons. She made a ball of werelight from the only spell she knew. Acair smiled at her briefly.
“Lovely light there.”
“I’m a bit surprised I’m still able to do it.”
He reached for her hand. “I haven’t had the chance to ask you how you feel. Different? Those bolts were enspelled with I know not what, but I’m assuming Soilléir removed their poison.”
“If magic was a deafening roar before, ’tis but a whisper now,” she said, realizing as she said it that it was so. She looked at him. “I think I can bear it.”
“I would have made you a jar of useful coins just the same, you know.”
“I know,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You might be the first soul who has ever thanked me for my spells.” He put his arm around her and stared at the ground in front of him. “I wonder about those shadows, though.”
“I would have thought they would have disappeared with Sladaiche.”
“As would I,” he said slowly. “There’s a mystery for you. Well, the sooner we solve it, the sooner we put our feet up. Do you have your coins?”
She looked at him in surprise. “I do, but why?”