“I know exactly where it will lead which is why I’ll only do it this once unless you’re involved, or perhaps one of our numerous children. But this is the final act of do-gooding for me. I’m looking for that old leaf and turning it back over.”
“Of course.”
He had to take a deep breath before he could look at her. “Frightened off yet?”
“Not yet,” she said with a shrug. “And just so you know, you’re terrible at this proposing business.”
He met her gaze and realized she was looking as him as if she might very well have been rather fond of him. He ignored the choruses of huzzahs and other appropriate sentiments all the damn magics in his chest set up, and smiled faintly. “I might corner your grandfather later.”
“Do you want me to come along and prop you up?”
He attempted a look of mock outrage. “Accompany me on my manly business? I think not.”
Her smile faded. “Did it do any good?” she asked, sounding a bit wistful. “That magic of mine?”
“You can’t truly mean that,” he said, genuinely startled. “I couldn’t have used that spell on my own. It needed you.”
“Can you do this thing for Hearn’s son with just me?”
“Of course,” he said confidently. “I’ll take Soilléir’s place, you’ll do what you do, and we’ll see what happens.”
“Soilléir did suggest that while you were wheezing.”
“Of course he did,” Acair grumbled. “The next thing I know, he’ll be hiring me out to do his dirty work for him.”
“He said that as well.”
Acair leaned his head back against the worn wood of that sturdy pub bench and gave himself up for utterly lost. The next thing he knew, Soilléir was going to have him going round to every damned soul in the Nine Kingdoms to refill their cups, as it were.
He thought he might have to make a concerted effort to retrieve parts of his own black soul lest he never again be equal to carrying on the grand and glorious tradition of his parents.
Of course, he would have to find a way to balance that with the rather unexpected pleasure of having the woman he loved sitting contentedly next to him, stroking the back of his hand as if she might have a few fond feelings for him, and listening to the pleasant conversation of companions who had apparently tired of their gaming sport and returned to greener conversational pastures.
It was all very unexpected and unexpectedly pleasant.
Who would have thought that he might be adding to his list of favorite things?
Twenty-four
Léirsinn stood just inside Sgath and Eulasaid’s barn and looked at the sky that was threatening rain. She didn’t mind rain, especially when she was able to stay inside and listen to it falling against a barn roof. Flying in it seemed a somewhat poorer way to enjoy it, but she supposed the hooded cloak Acair had given her might keep her dry enough.
She looked at the man in question who was also watching the sky and apparently considering whether or not the rain might stop.
“It was lovely of your grandparents to let us stay for a few days,” she offered.
“They insisted,” he said, “but aye, it was.”
“What will you do now?” she asked.
“After I try to heal Hearn’s son?” he asked, looking at her. “Or after I wed myself a gel with a rune on her hand and plans to acquire countless ponies?”
“The latter, surely.”
He smiled. “Haven’t a damned clue.”
She leaned against the door and looked at him. “I never asked what you did to Fuadain.”
“You don’t want to know.” He turned back to his contemplation of the sky. “He might not sleep easily for a while.”
“Weeks?”
“I tend to operate in decades, darling. I did do him the very great favor of hiring a pair of lads from the pub to go look for his sons to come claim their inheritance since your grandfather didn’t seem to be interested in remaining there. That was the very least I could do given that he likely won’t manage anything past sitting in the corner and rocking for a few years.” He turned toward her and reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “What will you do now?”
“Have the people I love all in the same place,” she said, finding the thought almost too lovely to contemplate. “Perhaps even my brother occasionally.”
“He seems to have itchy feet, that wandering lad, but he’ll always be welcome. We should absolutely offer your sister a safe harbor to keep her out of the clutches of that essence-changing madman. If you’d care to be in the same place with me, that is.”
She looked at him pointedly.
He only smiled and reached for her hand. “Your grandfather likely needs a decent meal and a nap before I corner him to present my suit, giving us time to be off and doing. You don’t mind coming with me?”
“As long you don’t require anything from me that’s longer than five words.”
“Six, darling. You’re up to six.”
She didn’t want to tell him that she had absolutely no desire to use any magic at all, mostly because she was appalled to find that might not be as true as she wanted it to be. She’d made werelight when she’d first come out to the barn and reached for that very handy spell of containment to avoid having to look for a broom not a quarter hour earlier.
“I’m finished after this time,” she said firmly.
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
She glared at him, though what she wanted to do was go into his arms and stay there for a bit.
But if anything could be said about that man there, it was that he wasn’t oblivious. He smiled, then pulled her into a thoroughly comforting embrace.
“Use it or not, as it pleases you,” he said.
“I might consider it if there were others who needed your help,” she conceded.
“My help,” he said with a snort. “Can you imagine?”
“I won’t say a thing,” she promised. “Wouldn’t want word getting round about these new and unsettling sides of you.”
He hugged her so tightly she squeaked.
“You do love me,” he whispered.
“Almost as much as you love me,” she agreed. She pulled out of his arms, then nudged him out of the way before he opened the stall door for Sianach. “I’ll saddle him while you give that some thought. Are we riding or flying?”