bluntly. “Or dare I hope you’re as canny as you look?”
“Outside of bearing interesting runes, they slice through spells rather nicely,” Ruith said with a frown. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you should know that the man who crafted those knives for his daughter-in-law first crafted that blade you carry for his son, as a coming-of-age gift.”
“Did he, indeed?” Ruith asked in surprise.
Uachdaran glanced at Sarah, then turned back to Ruith. “Oft-times daughters look like mothers,” he said. “Your wee sister couldn’t look any more like Sarait had she been Sarait. I almost fell off my chair the first time I saw her.” He chewed on his words, then stuck out his chin. “Morag of An-uallach wanted what Sorcha of Cothromaiche had—or what she thought she had.”
Ruith felt his mouth go dry. “And just what sort of power does a dreamweaver have?”
“It depends entirely upon the soul in question, for their magic is capricious in a way only those from Cothromaiche could admire.” He paused. “If you could go any other way and do what you must, I would advise it.”
“Sarah believes there is more than one spell in An-uallach’s keep,” Ruith said, suppressing the urge to drag his hand through his hair or give some other sign of his distress. “I cannot see them myself, and I dare not leave her to fend for herself whilst I go make an endless and potentially fruitless search.”
“Then you’d best keep her nearby, hadn’t you?” Uachdaran asked, though there was no sting in his tone. “And remember what I’ve said.”
“I will,” Ruith said with a grim smile. He had the feeling he was going to be spending quite a bit of time thinking about all the king had hinted at. “You’ve done much more for us than I ever could have asked for.”
“Well,” Uachdaran said with a small smile, “I didn’t want to say as much, but aye, I’ve been exceptionally generous to you, all things considered.”
“I have the feeling you did it for Sarah.”
“You might be right. And for your mother. And your wee sister, whom you’ll have to tread lightly around.”
Ruith imagined that was true. He thanked the king again for his exceptional generosity, bid farewell to all others whom politeness required him to, helped Sarah put her horse in her pack, then watched as Tarbh changed himself into a fabulously bejewelled dragon.
Uachdaran only shook his head and walked back into his hall.
Ruith saw Sarah situated comfortably, fashioned reins for her because he could, then put his arms around her as Tarbh leapt into the air and carried them off into the night.
And he thought about a sword with no message, magic worth killing for, and tragedies that involved other families besides his. They were all things he had never considered before and now wondered why not.
He tightened his arms around Sarah and closed his eyes.
And hoped he wasn’t flying them into a trap.
Twenty-two
Sarah walked alongside Ruith and contemplated the twists and turns of her life, things her mother never could have imagined, much less enjoyed.
She was traveling in style at least. Not only were her traveling clothes made of the finest material, her boots were sturdy and warm, and her cloak apparently imbued with not only a bit of glamour but the ability to repel even the most unpleasant weather. Given that she was walking through a torrential storm up to the gates of an enormous castle that had suddenly appeared in the midst of equally enormous trees, she thought she might have been in a position to offer an opinion on that.
Her method of travel hadn’t been without its discomforts, though she supposed she was the only one who thought so. The flying didn’t bother Ruith, though she wasn’t sure there would ever come a point in her life where she could attempt it and not shriek.
Their mounts, or more particularly, Tarbh, had informed Ruith that he would wait for them outside the gates. He’d changed himself into a mighty owl and flown up to perch majestically in a tree. Ruathar, who had continued the journey whilst residing in her pack, had apparently been content to remain there. Ruith had been happy not to argue, pointing out the handiness of having a shapechanging horse nearby for potential emergencies.
Sarah had had no desire to know what sorts of emergencies he might be anticipating, though she could speculate readily enough. She knew how King Uachdaran had felt about An-uallach and the queen who apparently ruled there with an iron hand. If