he was equally sure it hadn’t been a lack of capability so much as a self-imposed vow of discretion that included not interfering in the choices of others.
“I can’t imagine,” Ruith said quietly, sure Soilléir would know what he intended by it.
“I sincerely hope, my friend, that you never have to,” Soilléir said.
Ruith sighed, then caught sight of Sarah sitting at her loom. He could safely say that any regret about his current path lasted only as long as it took him to look for her in any given chamber.
And the rest of the truth was, he had spent a score of years hiding, but also pacing in place, as if he’d waited for a task he’d somehow known he was destined to take on. And if that task sent him into his father’s darkness, so be it. He supposed it hadn’t been happenstance that the majority of the books in his library had been books of spells, gathered from obscure sources, and for the most part incomplete. He had passed the years stretching his mind in directions it hadn’t perhaps been meant to go, pushing himself to think in ways he’d never anticipated he would even want to.
He was, he could admit with a fair bit of distaste, a bit like his sire when it came to that sort of thing.
But to consider things his father had been creating near the end of his miserable life?
It would take an event of monumental proportions to inspire him to do that.
He thanked Soilléir for the pleasant conversation, paced about the solar a score of times, then came to stand next to Sarah. She paused in her work, scowled at him, then shifted just the slightest bit so he would have a place to perch. He did, with his back to her work but still so he could see her face.
“I want you to stay here.”
“You don’t,” she said without hesitation. “Not in truth.”
He had to sigh a little. “Very well, I don’t in truth, but I also don’t want you to come where I fear we’ll need to go.”
“You need me.”
“Well, that is true as well,” he agreed. “But for more than just your sight.”
She elbowed him rather firmly in the ribs. “Concentrate on what route we’ll take.” She continued to work, though a bit more slowly. “I dreamed last night.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “I was caught up in it.”
She almost dropped her shuttle. “Then you saw the spells?”
He shook his head. “I saw fires, but I couldn’t tell you where they were.”
She took a deep breath. “I could.”
“I suspected as much.” He watched her continue on with her cloth, a greyish green that he imagined would blend in quite well in whatever landscape they found themselves. It shimmered with something that wasn’t precisely earthly, so he imagined that the yarn had been enspelled somehow. “I was thinking we should retrace our steps,” he said slowly. “North.”
Her hands stilled for a moment, then she continued her work without speaking.
“I would like to find Franciscus, if finding can be done,” he ventured. “I have a few questions for him, which I imagine you do as well.”
“Very pointed ones,” she agreed.
“The other person I would like to find is Urchaid. Soilléir gave me an idea or two about lads with that name, but he doesn’t seem to be any of them.” He couldn’t bring himself to wonder if Urchaid the fop might have somehow escaped the heavy hand of his father’s filial jealousy. He certainly wasn’t going to speculate aloud with Sarah listening. “Whoever he is, he is up to no good, I daresay.”
“I daresay,” she murmured. “What do you think he want—nay, never mind.” She looked at him. “They all want what Gair had, don’t they?”
“I’m afraid so. And I fear we’ve only begun to unravel the web being woven.” Which was why he wanted her nowhere near any of that web, but as Soilléir had once said, Soilléir wouldn’t be her jailor. Better that she be where he could protect her than trapped in the schools of wizardry where she didn’t dare venture out into the passageway.
“How will we travel?” she asked. “On foot?”
He pulled himself back to the task at hand. “I’ll find horses somewhere and pay the seller with a few spells. Perhaps Soilléir will gift us food for the start of the journey. We’ll make do as we travel.”
She concentrated on her weaving for a bit longer, silent. Ruith didn’t interrupt her. He merely sat next to