Gift of Magic

by Lynn Kurland

  She looked at Ruith. He was grey, though she supposed that since she still felt as if he’d dropped a load of bricks on her, it was entirely possible he was feeling the aftereffects of wielding that magic himself. He was watching Miach’s brothers argue over the list he’d provided of souls who might have wanted Gair’s spells. Nemed looked over that list, handed it to Mansourah, then sat back with a sigh.

  “Unpleasant,” he said.

  “And no doubt incomplete,” Mansourah said, shooting Ruith a look. “As I said before.”

  Ruith blew the hair out of his eyes. “Then let’s begin again with those sitting here. I think I can almost guarantee that I have no stomach for wielding my father’s spells. I also think I can safely say that neither Sarah nor Mhorghain would be likewise tempted.”

  Sarah found the eyes of all on her, so she held up her hands quickly. “I couldn’t use them if I had them.”

  Ruith looked at his sister who shook her head slowly, then he looked at Miach. “And you, Your Majesty?”

  Miach tapped his forehead. “I already have them all here I’m very sorry to say, thanks to an unpleasant conversation with your brother Keir. As for my brothers—” He looked at Mansourah and Nemed, had a sharp shake of two heads in return, then turned back to Ruith and shrugged. “I think we can safely exclude all in this chamber, for your grandfather and cousin, I imagine, have neither the need nor the desire to possess them.”

  Iarann shuddered. “I wouldn’t have them if they were all that stood between me and saving the world from destruction.” He started to speak, then paused. “And forgive me for going back to this yet again, Ruith, but it seems to me that for most mages, those spells would be rather dangerous. I’ve heard they have minds of their own and take a great amount of power to use. Who would dare attempt it?”

  “Lothar, for one,” Miach said without hesitation, “but thankfully he’s safely ensconced in Gobhann. Wehr of Wrekin might have found them to his liking, but he’s almost assuredly dead. Droch would have them gladly, and the thought of what he would do with them makes me very nervous indeed.”

  “Add his other brothers to that list,” Nemed said, “if he has any of them left, which I doubt.”

  “Urchaid is alive and well,” Ruith said with a sigh. “Or he was a fortnight ago.”

  “Was he?” Miach asked in surprise. He frowned thoughtfully. “His power isn’t insignificant, but he’s not likely now to be anywhere where Droch might find him.” He looked at Ruith seriously. “And as unpleasant as this is, I think you should consider your father’s other sons. I would only be surprised to learn they aren’t already looking for his spells. Perhaps you should consider them whilst planning your route lest you find them waiting for you at a most inopportune spot.”

  Sarah suppressed a shiver. She had already encountered Ruith’s bastard brothers and had no desire to meet them again. Ruith looked at her and smiled grimly, as if he understood exactly what she was thinking, then he turned to Miach again.

  “They can’t see the spells,” he said wearily, “nor can Droch, for that matter, so they’ll have no idea where we’re making for. Even if Droch knew, his paltry scraps of power would not be equal to using my father’s most treasured pieces of magic.”

  Miach laughed, apparently in spite of himself. “I don’t think he would appreciate that assessment of his skill.”

  “He didn’t,” Ruith said, “but I felt I had no choice but to tell him as much when Sarah and I saw him at Buidseachd. Fortunately, Soilléir rescued the both of us—and more than once, as it happened.”

  “Good of him,” Sìle said gruffly.

  Ruith smiled at his grandfather. “Since he has so little to do to occupy his time, I didn’t consider it an imposition. As for Droch finding my sire’s spells—” He looked back at Miach. “I fear that effort would necessitate Droch’s leaving his very comfortable nest at Buidseachd. The lack of adulation and terror inspired by venturing forth from his well-stocked larder wouldn’t be worth the effort.”

  “What of the queen of An-uallach, who has already tried to slay your beloved?” Nemed asked pointedly.

  Ruith sighed deeply. “Morag wants more than just the spells, but there is little use in thinking on it. The truth is, it matters very little who might make use, even poorly, of those spells. I must gather them up, then destroy them. Anyone who found them would wreak more havoc on the world that I can bear to watch.”

  Mansourah leaned back against his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Perhaps I missed this part of the conversation, but how is it you intend to find them? Surely you have no more idea where they lay than anyone else. Do you intend to walk blindly into the dark—”

  “Not blindly.” Sarah realized she’d interrupted him only because she saw the words hanging there in the firelight, as if they’d been spider webs, fragile and easily destroyed. The company seated in front of the fire turned as one to look at her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I can see the spells.”

  Sìle’s face was full of pity, as was Iarann’s, for they already knew that, as did Miach. The rest were looking at her with varying degrees of surprise. All save Ruith. He simply looked greyer than before, if possible. But they’d already had all the discussion about her part in the quest she imagined he was willing to have. He didn’t want her to come.

  But he knew he had no choice but to allow her to.

  Mansourah looked at Ruith in surprise. “Surely you don’t intend to walk into the darkness with Sarah and no one to guard your backs.”

  Ruith shook his head. “We have aid, though the quality of it could perhaps be called into question. We encountered Thoir wandering about with Ardan of Ainneamh whilst we were in Slighe looking for our former companions. They don’t know our errand, of course, but they were willing to bring us tidings—”

  “And just what was my brother doing with that pompous arse?” Iarann asked sharply.

  “They were off gathering information for their respective fathers, or so they claimed,” Ruith said. “I’m sorry to say this, but I don’t trust Ardan as far as I can throw him, which isn’t far. He’s going to burst the seams of his very finely wrought tunics if he doesn’t push away from table sooner than he has been. I didn’t tell them what I was looking for specifically, just that we were seeking tidings about things amiss in the world.”

  “Ardan will find ample material there,” Iarann said with a snort, “given that nothing pleases him. Very well, so you have at least two on your side—well, let’s not give credit where it isn’t due—one on your side, that being my brother. I’m not sure that inspires confidence.”

  Miach cleared his throat. “Nay, but perhaps making a few extra preparations would. Perhaps, Prince Iarann, you could add to Ruith’s list by naming all the bastard brothers he should make sure aren’t following him. Mhorghain and I will write down which spells we remember Keir having told us—not the spells themselves, of course, but which ones they were—and perhaps Sarah would care to make Ruith a map of where she’s seen the spells.” He glanced at Ruith. “On the off chance you change your mind in the end about taking her with you.”

  Ruith’s color hadn’t improved and Miach’s words didn’t add to that. “You, my friend, would know, I believe, what it is to take your lady to a place where you wouldn’t lead your worst enemy.”

  “But his lady had her own quest,” Mhorghain said pointedly. “One I could not turn away from. I daresay Sarah feels the same

  way.”

  Sarah found Ruith’s sister looking at her. She nodded, because she agreed with her. Mhorghain’s task had been to shut Gair’s well. Her task was no less daunting, at least to her, but it was one only she could manage.

  She smiled briefly at Mhorghain, then busied herself tidying up luncheon dishes that had already been put on a table just inside the door, because it took her mind off what she was attempting to not listen to. She reached for a pewter cup, then paused when she caught sight of her arm.

  She had to
admit that whatever Ruith had done had definitely improved things, though the magic had left her feeling as if she’d been dropped off the parapet of Buidseachd. If she closed her eyes, she still had the feeling of falling she’d enjoyed when Sìle’s spell on her arm had pulled the world from under her feet. The only thing she thought she could say for the experience was that she’d felt as if she were falling into a lake made up entirely of Fadaire. If she’d had to land somewhere, there was no sense in not landing there.

  “I still don’t like the thought of leaving you two to face Morag of An-uallach,” Sìle said in a low voice. “Especially Sarah.”

  Sarah turned to find him looking at Ruith, his expression very grim. Ruith didn’t look any better than he had, but perhaps that had to do with whatever magic he’d used. She cleared her throat carefully. “I have nothing she could possibly want.”

  Sìle looked at her with pity. “Sarah, my dear, you are not simply a village witch’s daughter, regardless of how long you considered yourself such. And no matter how loudly you tell her, Morag will never believe you don’t have magic she might have for her own with enough effort. And,” he added, looking at Ruith, “I feel strongly that it isn’t wise for the two of you to simply roam about without a guard. Morag might not be able to shapechange, but she has very powerful magic. And I fear she might be the least of those who may eventually find you.”

  Sarah watched glances be exchanged. She would have found it an interesting exercise at another time, watching those who had known each other either for centuries or in a different locale discuss things without words, but not at the moment. She had been in Morag’s sights more than once and had no desire to be there again. It was enough to be forced to search for Gair’s spells. Having to look over her shoulder for a murderous queen was almost more than she could bear to think on.

  Never mind who else might be looking for them.

  Finally, it came down to Miach and Sìle indulging in a wordless conversation before Miach took a slight breath, let it out, then looked at Ruith.

  “Iarann could come with you—”

  “Ridiculous,” Ruith interrupted with a snort. “The eldest son of the crown prince of Tòrr Dòrainn?”

  “Then Nemed—”

  “I’ll go.”

  Sarah looked up to find that Mansourah had spoken. He looked at Ruith, then folded his arms over his chest in a way that said he’d spent his share of time arguing with brothers about various things and found that physical intimidation worked the best.

  Nemed sighed gustily. “You’re daft. You don’t have—”

  “Your magic,” Mansourah finished for him. “Aye, I know that. I don’t have magic to equal any of you, to Mother’s eternal dismay, which is why she and Father were kind enough to teach me other things.” He looked at Ruith. “I can at least scout for you. And conjure up a bit of werelight if necessary. And stand behind you and look fierce if absolutely necessary.”

  Sarah watched Ruith look up at a man who, his deprecating words aside, was a prince of Neroche and likely had much more magic than he was claiming. Ruith was silent for several very long moments, then he frowned.

  “You might miss the wedding.”

  “I was there for my brother’s crowning,” Mansourah said with a shrug. “I think he can do without me for the next occasion of state.”

  Ruith considered a bit longer. “I’ll think on it,” he said finally. “I can’t say we wouldn’t be grateful for the extra pair of eyes.”

  Sarah couldn’t decide if Ruith was happy about the situation or not, but she knew he wasn’t happy when the conversation returned to the making of a map.

  “We don’t need one,” he protested. “I have it memorized.”

  “And if something happens to you?” Miach asked pointedly.

  “Then Sarah knows where to go.”

  Miach looked at him in silence for a moment or two. “And if something happens to Sarah?”

  Ruith closed his eyes briefly, then blew out his breath. “Very well, make the damned map. I’ll keep it down the side of my boot where that sort of thing goes.”

  Nemed rose. “I’ll see to it.”

  “I’m the better cartographer,” Mansourah said.

  “You couldn’t draw your way to the nearest full keg of ale,” Nemed said with a snort. “Come with me, Sarah, and we’ll have this unpleasant business over with as soon as may be. I’d like to discuss the state of your family tree before Mansourah starts rattling the branches. Do you have any cousins?”

  Ruith caught Nemed by the arm. “I’ll give you the locations—”

  “Nay,” Sarah said, though she feared it had come out as more of a croak than anything else, “I can.” She smiled at Ruith. “I’m fine. Truly.”

  He hesitated. He continued to hesitate until she shooed him off and turned her back on him. She knew he didn’t believe her. She didn’t believe herself. The thought of having to think about, much less mark down, where Gair’s spells resided was enough to turn her stomach. But the sooner ’twas done, the sooner she could think about other, more pleasant things.

  Though she wasn’t sure at the moment what those might be.

  She took the chair Nemed offered her at the table he pushed under the window. She supposed that since he’d opened the shutters only far enough to let in a small bit of light they were safe. He conjured up pen and paper, then looked at her.

  “The entire Nine Kingdoms?” he asked.

  “You might as well,” she said, “though I don’t think the spells are south of us. Well,” she amended, “I didn’t see them there when I marked them on King Uachdaran’s map.”

  “I can scarce believe he allowed Ruith anywhere near his solar,” Nemed said with a faint smile.

  “Ruith was on his best behavior.”

  “Oh, I imagine the king was being polite as well,” Nemed said with a bit of a laugh, “not for Ruith’s sake. He and Miach were only there once as lads, but I understand they made quite an impression. My mother sent numerous gifts after the fact, to soothe the king’s offended pride, but I think it was some time before even she dared a visit, despite her immense amount of charm.”

  “He did grumble at Ruith at first,” Sarah admitted, “and he spent perhaps more time with him in his lists than necessary. I’m not sure it was entirely altruistic.”

  “I imagine it wasn’t,” Nemed agreed. “I also imagine he favored you two with a meal or two simply for your sake. He and Seannair of Cothromaiche are very old friends.”

  Sarah wondered if the day would come when she wouldn’t find herself winded by those sorts of revelations. “Are they,” she managed. “I didn’t know.”

  “I imagine he didn’t tell you,” Nemed said. “He’s not much for chatting, that dwarvish king. But if he allowed you in his solar, especially given the company you were keeping, you might count it as a very great honor. I think my mother managed the feat a pair of times, but I doubt he left her there alone.”

  “I suppose that’s where your brother learned his, ah—”

  “Craft of poaching spells?” Nemed finished. “Aye, I daresay it was. I can’t say Princess Sarait was any less devious, so you can imagine the things she taught Ruith.”

  She nodded, and the thought of mothers unable to see how their children had grown caught at her heart in a particularly painful way—

  “I, on the other hand, have never seen the inside of King Uachdaran’s solar,” Nemed said, interrupting her thoughts, “though I have often traveled to Léige to guard whatever cloth and necessaries first my mother, then Miach and my now eldest brother Cathar have sent over the years, but I’m generally confined to the formal hall. If I can dredge up a satisfactory ballad or two, His Majesty will feed me in the kitchens.”

  Sarah smiled. “I’m sure he’s teasing you.”

  Nemed pursed his lips. “He isn’t, so consider yourself more fortunate than I’ve been. You think on that good fortune whilst I’m about this work here.”

  Sarah considered tha
t, then watched the Nine Kingdoms come to life beneath Nemed’s hand. She didn’t want to think about the same sort of map she’d seen in King Uachdaran’s solar, but she couldn’t help herself. It was difficult to deny what she could see when the little pinpoints of light began to hover over the map where she knew Gair’s spells lay.

  If she did nothing else that day, she would use that spell Soilléir had given her to turn off her sight. Even if it only lasted for a few hours, that would be a relief.

  She quickly told Nemed where to put marks indicating spells—including where the two spells had moved to—then turned away before she had to look any longer.

  “Sarah?”

  She realized, with a start, that Ruith was holding on to her arms. She frowned up at him. “What?”

  “You looked as if you might faint.”

  “I never faint,” she blustered, purposely ignoring the fact that when Sìle had attempted to heal her arm she had promptly fallen out of her chair. She supposed the only reason she hadn’t landed on the floor had been because Ruith had caught her.

  “What is it?”

  She pointed toward the map. “Look at that and tell me what you think.”

  Ruith released her, then looked over Nemed’s shoulder. He studied the map for a moment or two, then blinked in surprise. He looked at her sharply. “Am I mistaken in what I’m seeing?”

  She shook her head. “I noticed it this morning. It’s what I came to tell you whilst you and Miach were training.”

  He put both hands on the table, apparently to hold himself upright. “There are a pair of those that aren’t where you marked them previously.” He paused. “Unless we were mistaken in Léige as to their location.”

  She shook her head. “I have no pride to save in this, Ruith. I marked the spells in the king’s solar exactly where I saw them. And aye, they have indeed moved.”