Nine Kingdoms: Dreamer's Daughter Part 20

"Stay close," he threw over his shoulder at Aisling before he sprinted down the pa.s.sageway. He almost knocked himself unconscious near the front door by abruptly encountering Aisling's father.

"The parlor," Bristeadh said grimly. "We'll manage to make a stand there."

Rnach didn't want to know exactly what he meant by that or why he would know what could or could not be done in his parlor, so he followed without comment.

He made certain Aisling was safely out of sight, then joined Bristeadh at the window, taking one side whilst Aisling's father took the other. He let out his breath slowly, then eased forward until he could see out.

The spell of protection had become visible, almost completely obscuring what he could see past the gate. Almost. He could only hope those on the other side of the rock fence were having that same experience, but he didn't dare hope for it.

"Who is it?" Aisling asked from behind them.

"Sglaimir," Bristeadh said. He took a deep breath. "I think the Guildmistress is with him."

"Impossible," Rnach said in disbelief. He shook his head. "I can't believe it."

"They've had twenty years to hunt me down," Bristeadh said. "I suppose it was a matter of time."

"I can't imagine Sglaimir can use Sorraidh," Rnach said. He looked at Aisling standing against the wall to his right. "Do you think?"

"Perhaps he's trying," she said, gesturing toward the window, "and that's why the magic is protesting. I wonder if the Guildmistress has magic?"

Rnach looked at Aisling's father. "You would know. What say you?"

"I've never seen her use any," he said slowly, "but I'm not sure that's an answer we can be satisfied with. All I know is she's not Bruadairian by birth. What that means for any magical abilities, I can't say."

Rnach wasn't sure he wanted to know at the moment, truth be told, but he knew better than to go into a fight not knowing the abilities of his opponents.

He found Aisling standing next to him and put his arm in front of her before he realized what he was doing. Aisling put her hand on his arm and pushed it gently down, then moved to stand next to him.

"I'll look."

"Carefully," he stressed.

She smiled at him briefly, then looked out the window. She went very still.

"It is the Guildmistress," she said faintly.

Rnach put his hand on her back. "And?"

"At least a pair of black-garbed guardsmen." She glanced at Bristeadh. "Not from the Guild."

"Nay, daughter," he said. "From the palace."

"And the man with the finely embroidered tunic and ermine-trimmed cape?"

"That would be our ill.u.s.trious ruler," Bristeadh said with a snort. "I'm surprised he managed to leave his soft seat at the palace to come this far-" He stopped suddenly and looked at them. "That is unusual, I must say."

"It makes you wonder what he was told, doesn't it?" Rnach asked, though he didn't want the answer to that.

"How did they find us, do you think?" Aisling asked.

"Someone obviously didn't care for not being able to shut her door, perhaps," Rnach murmured.

She laughed a little, but it was without humor. "Surely not. I can't imagine anyone would listen to her."

"She could have sent a messenger to Beul," Rnach said carefully. "It isn't that far away with a fleet horse."

"Or magic."

"Or magic," he agreed. "Though that makes me wonder what sort of magic they're using that Bruadair isn't stopping. I have absolutely no idea how any of this works." He looked at Bristeadh. "What's your opinion?"

Bristeadh pursed his lips. "As I said, I've never seen Iochdmhor use magic-"

"She has a name?" Aisling interrupted in surprise. "I've never heard it used."

"She doesn't like it," Bristeadh said. "Thinks it's too pretty. Sglaimir imported her, though from where is anyone's guess. If you were to press me, I would say that she is a wizardess of some sort, but I've been told I have an overactive imagination. Sglaimir came to Bruadair, I believe, with his own magic and he's certainly had ample time to experiment with using the same inside the borders."

Rnach suppressed the curses that were on the tip of his tongue. What he needed was the same amount of time to discover what he could do, but obviously he wasn't going to have that luxury. He knew unfortunately very little about Carach of Mig or from what insignificant hamlet he and his sp.a.w.n had emerged. There were, as his father likely could have attested to, numerous places in the Nine Kingdoms where dark magic was the norm and black mages the acknowledged masters. Countering their spells was possible, as his father likely also could have confirmed, but the power and skill required was not insignificant.

What he needed was a day with Muinear to see if he could even begin to use his own magic inside Bruadair's borders.

The spell's shrieks suddenly became louder. Aisling clapped her hands over her ears and Bristeadh looked as if he'd been struck by someone who had intended it to be fatal.

"Go," he gasped. "Out the back. I'll distract them for as long as I can."

"But you can't," Aisling protested. "What if the spell fails?"

"Then I will have done what I could for you and will rest in peace."

Rnach found Aisling looking at him, but he didn't have to ask what she was thinking. They couldn't leave her father, but there was no guarantee they would manage to get themselves all out alive. He dragged his hand through his hair before he looked at her grimly.

"I don't think I should do this," he said, "simply because whilst I might be able to avoid burning the house down, I'm not sure how Bruadair would react to any more aggressive spellweaving."

She nodded, a jerky motion that spoke eloquently of her distress. "What spell do I use then? And please know that I can scarce believe I'm asking that."

"I believe it and what spell you use depends on what you want to do." He looked at Bristeadh. "Who fashioned the first spell? Muinear?"

Aisling's father nodded. "She laid it over the house and grounds before Aisling was born. It has seen its share of abuse, which has led me to wonder over the years if perhaps we weren't as careful about hiding the house as we should have been. There's nothing to be done about it now. What I can tell you for certain is that I haven't a b.l.o.o.d.y clue what the spell is or how to repair it."

Rnach resheathed the sword he hadn't realized he was still holding, then looked at Aisling. "Let's go out the back and see if we can identify what was done. You can decide then to either sh.o.r.e up what's still there or create something new."

She nodded, though she looked as if she might rather be puking. He'd seen that look on her face before very early in their acquaintance when she was being poisoned by a cook with a foul sense of jest, so he thought he might be in a position to recognize it.

She looked at her father. "Should we try to save this house?"

"You were born in this house," he said with a smile. "It has good memories, if not brief ones. Your lad there might want to come back at some point and investigate the library. He's scarce scratched the surface of what's there. But in the end, it is just a house. If it comes down to a choice between escaping and saving it, there is no choice."

She took a deep breath. "I've never been able to save anything before."

"Then start with the place of your birth if it's possible," Rnach suggested. "But whatever we do, I think we should do it quickly."

"You two make your escape," Bristeadh said. "I'll hold them off-"

"Nay, you'll come with us," Aisling said firmly. "But we'll need our horses. Have you seen them?"

Bristeadh looked at her blankly, then he blinked. "Oh, the hounds? I fed them in the stables this morning. I suppose it didn't occur to me to wonder why they preferred to bed down there."

"Shapechanging gifts from my grandfather Sgath and Seannair of Cothromaiche," Rnach said. "Let's fetch them and go. I think they can ferry us away without any trouble." He glanced out the window. "Aisling, did you see Acair at the gate?"

She shook her head. "He's not there unless he's wearing a spell I can't see through. I can't imagine Bruadair would allow him to hide. Being who he is," she added.

Rnach listened to the words come out of her mouth and felt himself go very still. "What did you say?"

"I said I don't think Bruadair would allow Acair to hide." She looked at him in surprise. "What are you thinking?"

He chewed on his words. "I'm not sure, but I'll let you know when I decide."

Actually, he thought he might have a fairly good idea of where his thoughts were taking him. Sglaimir seemingly had no appearance of magic, so perhaps he hadn't simply been refusing to use Bruadair's magic out of a sense of decorum, he hadn't been able to draw Bruadair's magic to himself. It was obvious he hadn't been using it to hide himself, but perhaps that too wasn't because he didn't want to but rather because he was unable.

Which begged the question, why had Acair visited openly enough that Bristeadh at least had recognized him? Had he been bold enough to do so or simply unable to hide who he was? And if he realized he couldn't harness Bruadair's power inside its borders, then perhaps there was a reason to drain the country of magic instead of trying to use it on the steppes from whence it sprang.

Rnach had the feeling his b.a.s.t.a.r.d brother just might have an opinion on that, something he thought he might need to discover sooner rather than later.

"I think I should save the house," Aisling said firmly. "If for the library, if nothing else."

Rnach pulled himself away from impossible thoughts and nodded. "Agreed. Any thoughts on how?"

She took a deep breath. "Bruadair is leaving that choice up to me."

He wasn't at all surprised. He pulled away from the window. "I'll go fetch our gear, then-"

"I'll go fetch your gear," Bristeadh said, "and my own. You two decide what miracle you're going to indulge in."

Rnach waited until the man had left the salon before he looked at Aisling. "Well? What do you want to do?"

"A spell of disinterest? Or perhaps un-noticing, like the one Miach gave you. We could hide the house so no one could find it again. Or disguise it, so no one would want to come inside even if they did see it."

"You could," he agreed.

"Or I could change the spell Muinear laid over the house and make it so no one could ever break through it." She paused, then looked at him with haunted eyes. "Change it permanently."

He pulled her into his arms and held her. He wasn't sure which of the two of them was shaking harder, but supposed in the end it didn't matter. He felt her arms come around his waist and supposed neither of them needed to breathe very well anytime soon.

"Do you remember the spell of essence changing you used at Inntrig?" he asked.

She took a deep breath and let it out. She sounded as if that breath was very close to a sob. "I don't need Soilleir's spell."

Rnach shut his mouth because it had fallen open. He groped for the right thing to say, but found absolutely nothing. He pulled back far enough to gape at her. "Aisling . . ."

Aisling looked at him miserably. "Well, I don't."

"Good heavens," Rnach said weakly. He fought the urge to simply sit down and rest. "Aisling . . . good heavens."

She pulled away from him and wrapped her arms around herself. "What am I supposed to do? Ignore what I'm being given?"

"Absolutely not. Just don't tell Soilleir. It might lessen his opinion of his own magnificence if he thought someone else might be able to make mighty magic more easily than he can."

"I'm not sure it will be easy."

He reached out and put his hands very lightly on her shoulders. "What can I do?"

"The magic wants you to come with me and drop your spells over Muinear's while I change what's left of hers to something more permanent." She looked at him blankly. "How do I do that?"

He put his arm around her shoulders and led her toward the door. "Do you remember what the front looked like, with the stream and the front garden?"

"Aye."

"And the back, including the stables?"

She nodded.

"Then let's go have a look at the spell outside the back door, round up the ponies, and be ready to fly. I'll tell you how I will weave my spell only to include Muinear's spell and not us, which is what you would normally need to do with yours, but I'm not sure that will work for you here. I suggest you try not to catch us up in your spell, but you'll have to negotiate that with your magic, I suppose."

"I feel faint."

He tightened his arm around her shoulders. "I can't blame you, love. Let me buy you a bit of time, shall I? I'll put something distracting over the top of Muinear's spell first. Elvish glamour, or some such rot."

She smiled briefly. "You're trying to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"Not very well."

"I would pour more effort into my efforts, but I want something left of you to do your work."

Her eyes narrowed. "I think you're far too aware of the fairness of your face."

"Nay," he said easily, "far too bemused by the fairness of yours. Let's argue about it later at length."

Later was, as it happened, quite a bit later than he would have wished for. His magic was, his earlier successes in the library aside, thoroughly unwieldy. It was a bit like trying to drag a spoon through solid rock. Frozen honey would have been a simple thing by comparison.

His grandfather would have been appalled by the condition of the glamour Rnach managed to spread over Bristeadh's property, but Rnach was just grateful something had worked at all. Muinear's spell at least seemed to find his efforts acceptable. Aisling had woven her spell of essence changing well if not a little untidily. He'd memorized it, of course, because that was just what he did, but he had the feeling he would never dare use it. Bruadair would likely turn him into a toad for his trouble if he did.

He had no idea what would be left of Bristeadh's house when-if-they returned, though Aisling's spell seemed to be, from all appearances, impervious to a.s.sault. His own spell of un-noticing that he'd drawn over them-fashioned from Fadaire in deference to Bruadair's delicate sensibilities-had seemed to be working as intended. There had been nothing else to do but be relieved to be away on a horse with magic of his own, accompanied by a very lovely golden filly whose parentage he fully intended to discover sooner rather than later.

Sooner, he supposed, would also be quite a bit later than he would have liked. At the moment, he was simply flying into the sunrise, Aisling sitting behind him so he blocked the wind for her, with her father riding Orail and looking rather green. Flying was obviously not the man's favorite activity. Like father, like daughter, he supposed.

Aisling wasn't entirely sure where they were going and Bristeadh looked so perplexed that Rnach half suspected that if he left their direction up to the two of them, they would all land in Beul where they would find themselves joining Aisling's cousin Euan in Sglaimir's dungeon. He had posed a silent but very deferential question to Bruadair's sentient self, then decided perhaps he would simply leave it up to Iteach to sniff out a nest of dreamspinners. His pony seemed to know where he was going-either that or he was simply doing his d.a.m.ndest to make certain Rnach had nothing but sun in his eyes. At the moment, Rnach wouldn't have been surprised by either.