Dreamer's Daughter (27 page)

“Oh, please nay,” Acair gasped. “Those mindless flutterers? Rather take that blade and put it back in my chest where you found it.” He looked at Aisling narrowly. “You, woman, forget I pulled you behind that bit of stone and saved your sorry life. What was I thinking? And now look who's arrived to complete the misery of the morning!”

Rùnach looked to his right to find Soilléir standing a few feet away, looking as if he'd done nothing more taxing with his morning than linger over a cup of tea. Which, knowing Soilléir, he likely had. Rùnach smiled.

“What do you think?”

“I'm not surprised,” Soilléir said pleasantly. “But I knew what you two could accomplish together.” He moved to stand next to Aisling, then looked at Acair. “Prince Acair.”

Acair snarled a curse at him.

Aisling looked at Soilléir. “We're thinking of sending him off to repair the damage he's done. What do you think?”

“I think what I always do,” Soilléir said with a smile. “If there were no evil in the world, what would there be for good men to do?”

“Ah, kill me now,” Acair moaned. “I want to find a dull blade and fall upon it when you start with that rot.”

“And what would you know of it?” Aisling asked.

“My mother has an entire book of his sayings,” Acair said with a shudder. “An extremely thin volume, but there you have it. She has no taste. And look, you have yet more witnesses over there. Perhaps that might cause you to hesitate before doing me any injuries.”

Rùnach looked to his right and realized Acair spoke the truth. There was Bristeadh, looking very much worse for the wear, Muinear, and even Uabhann. The latter was sending meaningful glances Acair's way.

Acair shifted closer to Aisling. “Who is that lad?”

“He's the dreamspinner in charge of nightmares.”

“Thought I recognized him.”

She looked at Acair seriously. “Go do good.”

“I'd rather perish.”

“Your choice, of course.”

He considered, then nodded shortly to her. “If I see someone on the verge of death, I'll give him a good kick to help him along. It's the best I can do.” He looked at Rùnach. “My thanks for my life, damn you to hell for it.”

Rùnach smiled. “I have a lifetime of torment to repay you for.”

Acair scowled at him, then walked away. He gave Muinear a wide berth, shot Uabhann a look of faint alarm, then left the garden.

Rùnach watched the door close behind him, then sighed as Aisling went to embrace her great-grandmother. He looked at Soilléir.

“Well?”

“I wasn't worried.”

“You don't lie well.”

Soilléir smiled. “Very well, I was worried. But I'm not surprised you were successful. Very resourceful, the two of you.”

Rùnach studied him for several minutes in silence. “Have you ever used a spell of essence changing in a fight?”

Soilléir shifted. “Why would you ask?”

“I'm curious.”

“Shouldn't you be careful what your curiosity leads you to ask?”

Rùnach smiled. “I know what you're doing.”

“It's my favorite technique.”

“Unfortunately, it's one you taught me quite well, which renders it perhaps less effective than you might hope.”

Soilléir sighed. “Perhaps. And perhaps I'll tell you one day, when we've absolutely nothing else to discuss.”

“You inspire me to entertain you regularly at my table.”

Soilléir smiled and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I would hope you would.” He stepped away. “I think you should rescue your lady before Uabhann monopolizes her. I think he's looking for new ideas to use in his craft.”

Rùnach shuddered to think of what sorts of things Uabhann might find interesting, no matter what Muinear had said about him. He looked around the garden once more, breathed in deeply of the wholesome, rich air, and was grateful for the gifts he'd been given. Light, darkness, the ability to govern both of them within himself.

And the chance to spend the rest of his days with a woman who loved him in spite of both.

A
isling walked along the same street she had traversed so often during her time at the Guild, only now she wasn't sure she had ever seen anything more beautiful. Beul was drenched in magic that still hung over the city like a mist. She had the feeling that mist was healing the country—nay, she knew it was. The entire land of her birth was sighing in relief, as if it had been perishing of thirst for years and had finally been offered sweet water. It was without a doubt one of the happiest days of her life, made all the more lovely because she was walking next to the man who had made it all possible.

“I didn't.”

She looked up at Rùnach and smiled. “Of course you did,” she said, “and how did you know what I was thinking?”

He smiled wryly. “You've told me so half a dozen times in the past hour. I've disagreed at least that many.”

“You closed the portal.”

“You quite handily took Carach's magic away from him before he killed me.”

She smiled. “Then perhaps we can consider it a joint accomplishment.”

He nodded and fell silent, but she had the feeling it was a silence inspired by more than weariness. She continued on with him for a bit longer before she looked at him.

“You're thinking.”

He smiled briefly. “Barely.” He hesitated, then shook his head. “I'm not thinking anything very useful.”

“I'm coherent enough to listen,” she said. “Barely.”

He breathed out a huff of a laugh. “I understand, which is why I'm not sure I want to clutter up the day with my thoughts, but I will if you can bear it.” He considered, then shook his head again. “I suppose 'tis simply my past intruding on the pleasure of the present, but I didn't like what was coming out of that fountain.” He looked at her then. “Too much like what my father loosed, truth be told.”

“But it's sealed shut now,” she said slowly. “Don't you think?”

“I'm sure of it,” he said, sounding very sure indeed.

“That magic took what I'd spun out of Carach and pulled it into the fountain with him, if that worries you,” she said.

He closed his eyes briefly. “It did, actually.” He stopped, turned her to him and put his arms around her. “It concerned me greatly.”

She understood. The evil Gair had loosed had trickled through the Nine Kingdoms for years before Rùnach's siblings had managed to shut the well Gair had opened. Rùnach had every reason to be unsettled to think another source of it had sprung up. She held him tightly for several minutes, ignoring the people that walked around them as they stood in the middle of the thoroughfare, ignoring how all she wanted to do was find a flat place to lie down on and sleep for a fortnight.

“Wed me?”

She laughed a little. “Aye.”

“I just wanted to make sure.”

She pulled away and looked at him. “Was there any doubt?”

“You still have that enspelled handkerchief my cousin gave you. I feared you might feel the need to scratch a wobbly
rescue me from Rùnach
on it before I managed to get you to an altar and there he would come to save the day.”

“He didn't save my country.”

“He didn't save my sorry arse this morning, either,” Rùnach said with a weary smile, “so I suppose neither of us needs him. But perhaps what we do need is a cup of ale and a scrap of floor. And look you, there is a likely lad to ferry us to such a place if we're fortunate.”

Aisling looked over her shoulder to find that a carriage had suddenly stopped in the street behind them. She supposed it was indicative of the morning she'd had that her first instinct was to fling a spell of containment at the driver. She realized that perhaps Rùnach was feeling something along those lines because he had pulled her behind him and had his hand on his sword.

“Perhaps a ride to a fine inn?” a familiar voice suggested. “It'll cost you a gold coin, though, if you want to be anonymous.”

Aisling smiled at Ochadius's son as he tipped his hat up so she could see his face. “That seems like a bargain.”

“If you only knew,” Peter said. He inclined his head. “Lady Aisling. Prince Rùnach. Perhaps a ride free of charge considering what you've done this morning.”

Rùnach looked up at him. “Do you know?”

“Your Highness, I think everyone knows,” Peter said, smiling. “I won't say my father went so far as to make a general announcement, but he has noised the tidings about. He has also taken the finest rooms in the finest inn in Beul for your pleasure.” He hesitated, then looked at Aisling. “My lady Aisling, he has been much more discreet about your presence here, which he suspected you might prefer. You being who you are, of course.”

Aisling put her hand on Rùnach's arm before he could speak. “I think that would be best.”

Rùnach handed her up into the carriage, then climbed in and sat next to her. “Aisling—”

“Rùnach, I don't want anyone to know.”

He studied her for several minutes in silence. “I'm not the one who stripped the whoreson of his power.”

“Which I did with Bruadair's help only after you had weakened him to the point where I could without his noticing until it was too late for him to do anything about it.”

“I don't want the credit,” he insisted.

“And I couldn't take it even if I wanted it, which I don't.” She took his hand in both hers. “Rùnach, you and Ochadius can step out in front of the crowd and tell them that you saved their country for them because you loved it and the souls who were born to it. And that will be the absolute truth. Ochadius has done things that have held the country together until today when you stopped what was taking Bruadair's magic, fought its bitterest enemy, and sealed shut a fountain that was obviously more than just a portal.”

“Aisling,” he said with a sigh, “you know it isn't as simple as that.”

“What I know, my love, is that you were born to put on court clothes and dazzle people who will thereafter fall over themselves to please you. I was born to stand off-stage and watch.”

“And manage the dreams of the world.”

“Well, I suppose that, too,” she agreed.

He leaned over and kissed her, then looked into her eyes. “Single words and simple thoughts?”

“Where have I heard that before?”

He smiled and sat back. “You and Soilléir are more alike than you realize, I'm afraid.” He sighed deeply. “Very well, I can see the sense in it. I'm not sure most Bruadarians even believe there are dreamweavers, much less dreamspinners. Anonymity may be vital to your calling, but I want you to know that I don't like the idea of taking credit for any of this.”

“I know,” she said simply. “Which makes all the difference.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “A carriage ride without worrying about the destination or who is following us,” she said wearily. “Astonishing.”

“It is,” he agreed.

“I'm not sure I can stay awake any longer.”

“Then close your eyes, love. I'll keep you safe.”

“You have so far,” she murmured, then found that she was simply too exhausted to say anything else.

She wasn't entirely sure that she didn't sleep, because it seemed like just a moment or two later that the carriage had come to a stop and she was crawling unsteadily back out of it. She looked blankly at the inn in front of them for a moment or two before she realized where she'd seen it before. It was the one where Rùnach had rented a chamber days earlier. For all she knew, he might find some of his missing gear still there. The things he'd bribed the madam of ill repute with, she supposed he would never have back.

They thanked Peter for the ride, then walked inside where they were shown to a large gathering chamber. Aisling was faintly surprised to find it was full of people waiting for them. She was even more surprised to realize who was there.

“Half an hour,” Rùnach murmured, “but no more.”

“Truly?”

He smiled and squeezed her hand. “They'll understand.”

“We could invite them north for supper in a day or two,” she said. “Don't you think?”

“Let's make it in a fortnight or two and we might be awake enough to make coherent conversation,” he said wryly. “Here, lean on me and we'll prop each other up until we can make our escape.”

Aisling would have been happy to do so, but she and Rùnach were immediately led to a bench that was perhaps the most comfortable thing she'd ever sat on. She accepted a very decent mug of ale which she hoped would keep her awake long enough for her to greet their guests.

Ochadius was there, looking very much worse for wear but holding the hand of a woman Aisling could only assume was Alexandra, the crown princess of Bruadair. King Frèam and Queen Leaghra were in the company as well, but she wouldn't have recognized them as what they were if she hadn't met them before. They were dressed in homespun and seemingly quite happy to pass themselves off as simple country folk.

The rest of the chamber's occupants were far from that, though. Rùnach's grandparents, Sìle and Brèagha, were there, along with Miach of Neroche and Rùnach's sister, Mhorghain. Aisling was happy to see them both and grateful they seemed perfectly willing to ignore her yawns. She was introduced to Frèam and Leaghra's niece, Sarah, and her husband, Ruith, whom she knew from having met him at Seanagarra.

It occurred to her at one point that she had family there herself. Muinear was sitting on a chair near the fire, watching her with a smile, while her father, cleaned up from his early-morning adventures, stood behind his wife's grandmother with his hand on her chair. Uabhann was sitting in a corner, as usual, blending in with the shadows. Aisling didn't want to try to imagine what he was turning over in his head at the moment. Hopefully she wouldn't find the events of the morning making an appearance in her nightmares.

She was fairly sure that at some point food was brought and extra chairs provided. She was far less sure that she hadn't closed her eyes once too often while her head was resting against Rùnach's shoulder and slept. If she woke, she couldn't tell. It all felt like a dream.

All she knew was that at one point Rùnach patted her awake and no one seemed to find that unusual. She and Rùnach made their excuses to various royal personages, extended an invitation to come to dinner in a few days, and promised visits during high summer when the king and queen of Bruadair intended to commemorate their return to the throne.

“Let's go now whilst another round of ale is being served,” Rùnach said under his breath. “Hurry.”

She hurried only to realize that their escape might not be made so easily. She only knew that because they had run bodily into Sìle of Tòrr Dòrainn who was waiting by the latch.

“I see you're off.”

“Grandfather, Aisling needs to sleep and if I don't find somewhere to sit where I needn't speak for at least a fortnight, I will break down and weep.”

“And how will you travel back to Aisling's keep?”

“We'll shapechange.”

Sìle frowned. “Far be it from me to tell you what to do—and if you snort at me over that, Rùnach, I will insist on satisfaction—but I would caution you against it. I must admit—very reluctantly—that shapechanging did not go very well for me the last time I tried it within these borders.”

“You, Grandfather?” Rùnach said in mock surprise. “Shapechange? I thought you said elves don't ever shapechange.”

“Especially not in Bruadair,” Sìle said promptly, “which was where I decided that very thing several centuries ago.” He looked at them from under bushy white eyebrows. “I don't suppose I need to tell you how to get along in your own country, especially not after this morning, but for myself, I will take my lovely bride and walk.”

“Want company, Grandfather?” Mhorghain called from across the chamber.

“Yours, aye. Those rambunctious lads, perhaps not, but that leaves me without our lovely Sarah to escort if I ban Ruithneadh.” He shrugged. “I'll take Miach and Ruith if I must.”

“Thank you, Grandfather,” Ruith called dryly from across the chamber.

“I helped you dig your garden, whelp.”

“You helped
Sarah
dig our garden and the plants that are there are for use in dyeing her wool. How do I benefit?”

Rùnach took Aisling's hand and pulled her out the door. “I can't bear another moment of listening to anyone say anything. Well, you, of course. But anyone else? Nay, please no.”

She smiled and ran with him down the stairs and out into the street. She pulled up short at what was waiting at the curb.

Iteach and Orail stood there with wings on their feet, harnessed to a sleigh that had wings on the runners. It was even more magnificent than the one Sìle had created for her in Seangarra when he'd determined she was too tired to walk anywhere. She looked at Rùnach in surprise, but he only shook his head with a rueful sigh.