is the only one left who remembers what spells were in my father’s book.”
Uachdaran stuck his chin out. “He was here, true, well over a se’nnight ago, with your sister and Mochriadhemiach.” He paused. “He went to see to their business with them.”
Ruith felt a chill descend, though there was no reason for it. The fire was hot and he had warm ale still in his hands. He looked at Sarah, expecting to find her asleep, but she was not. She was watching him gravely, as if she too felt his unease. He lifted his eyebrows briefly, took a deep breath, then turned back to the king.
“And have you had word of him since, King Uachdaran?” he asked.
The king set aside his cup and returned Ruith’s look steadily. “He is no more, son. From what I’ve been told, as he was holding the cap of the well open for your sister to find the final word of closing, he was struck from behind by an enemy.” He paused. “Prince Keir then perished inside the well, drawing its evil inside with him where it is now contained.”
Ruith bowed his head, because it was either that or make a noise of grief he couldn’t bear to. He hadn’t realized Keir was alive until recently, of course, so losing him should have been no great thing.
Yet somehow it was.
He lifted his head and took a deep breath. “I see.”
“He died so your sister—and the rest of us, I daresay—could live.” Uachdaran paused. “Your mother would have been proud of him, I daresay.”
Ruith nodded shortly. “She would have been.”
Uachdaran rose. “I’ll go fetch a bit of sweet wine,” he said quietly. “I’ll return shortly, children.”
Ruith was grateful for an old man’s discretion. He rose, then turned and put his hand on the warm stone of the mantel, grateful for the privacy to fall apart. He wasn’t sure he had wept, but he’d considered it. He looked up, after a time, to find Sarah standing next to him, watching him gravely.
“I’m so sorry, Ruith,” she said quietly.
“Nay,” he said thickly, “don’t be. Keir, of all of us, most wanted to see my father’s evil stopped. He was willing to give his life in return.” He managed a smile. “Indeed, I thought he had a score of years ago. This shouldn’t affect me.”
“But it does, because your heart is not made of stone,” she said. She stepped forward and put her arms around him. “I’m sorry for it, Ruith. No matter what your brother would have wanted.”
Ruith wrapped his arms around her and held her happily for several minutes in silence, then laughed a little. “I have been trying to get you into my arms for days, yet my late brother manages it for me with ease.”
“Ruith,” she said, sounding slightly shocked.
“He would agree, trust me,” Ruith said wryly. “He was nothing if not a realist.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. “What will we do now without him?”
“Make do,” he said with an attempt at lightness. “I had counted on his memory, but perhaps that was badly done. I think I can manage the feat myself.” He paused. “Thoir might be of some use there, actually.”
“Your cousin?” she asked in surprise. “Why?”
“He was interested in my father,” Ruith said with a shrug. “He and Keir had many conversations about my father’s intentions, if not his spells. It’s entirely possible that he might remember things I’ve forgotten. At this point, love, it might be our last hope.”
She patted his back. “I can see the spells, Ruith. We’ll find them all.”
He looked down at her. “Taking care of me now, are you?”
“Even the mightiest mage needs a nap now and again.”
“A quote from Soilléir?”
“My mother, if you can believe it. Usually said as she was drifting off to sleep in front of her fire after a morning full of mischief making.”
He laughed a little. “You had an interesting childhood, I daresay.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” she said wryly. She looked over her shoulder, then pulled away. “Here is the king with pallets. You sleep; I’ll keep watch.”
Ruith had no intention of that, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. He helped Uachdaran’s servants set up beds in front of the fire, then watched in surprise as the king pulled up a comfortable chair and sat.
“No sleep?” he asked.
Uachdaran shook his head. “I’m an old man, son, and don’t sleep much any longer.”
“Not even when contemplating a morning in the lists?”
Uachdaran