"Interesting," she offered, shutting her mouth abruptly. "Fascinating."

Rnach laughed. He walked into a library that for all intents and purposes was a copy of Bristeadh's, down to the carpet on the floor. There were wheels and echoes of wheels and things that looked like wheels but were obviously just curved bits of a deep, dark wood that left him reminding himself that grown men did not skip across floors of libraries to touch and pat and pull books from shelves. In a palace that was full of endless amounts of light, this was the perfect place to spend an afternoon with a good book or sit at a long table and commence a serious study, all accompanied by warm tones, comfortable chairs, and just the right amount of muted light.

And then he realized something else.

Some of the books seemed to be less than corporeal, if such a term could be used for them.

He looked at Muinear in surprise. "What's this?"

"Copies of every book in existence in every library, great and small, in the world."

He retrieved his jaw that had fallen down for the same reason he'd refrained from skipping, because he thought it might behoove him to look like an adult. "How does it work?" he asked, wondering if a swoon would be looked at askance. "Though I have to admit that I'm not precisely certain why I'm daring to ask."

"Afraid?"

He couldn't help a smile. "My lady Muinear, I'm not sure you're the one to be asking that after what you inflicted on me yesterday. I'm certain I'm not the one to be answering that."

"Call this penance, then," she said with a smile. "Aisling, darling, let's go spin and leave your lad to his gaping, shall we? Rnach, you'll be fine on your own?"

"Um," he said, searching for the right thing to say.

They laughed, then left him without a backward glance.

He wasn't sure how much time had pa.s.sed by the time he realized time had pa.s.sed. Hours had gone by, no doubt. He had roamed happily through stacks, warming himself thoroughly by the thought of Soilleir learning where he'd been and suffering a fair bit of envy over it. Then again, knowing Soilleir, he had likely contributed heavily to the tomes that found themselves actually being housed on those endless shelves.

Of course, that warmth of smugness had only lasted until he'd come face-to-face with the thought he'd been trying to avoid all morning, namely that there was a book in his pack that he knew he needed to open sooner rather than later and contemplate in a new way what lay inside. He wasn't sure the palace would permit such a thing without screeching, but he knew he needed to try.

He rose, thanked the librarians profusely for their aid, then left and went to retrieve his book from his backpack. He tucked it under his arm, then went in search of somewhere that wouldn't kill him for cracking the d.a.m.ned thing open.

He wandered through the hallways unmolested until he found himself suddenly standing in front of a doorway. There were things placed on the doorframe, runes of might and power from a source he didn't recognize. It wasn't evil, that much he thought he could say with certainty, but it was certainly dark.

The door opened and a man stood there. Rnach studied him for a moment or two. He had runes on his hands and face, runes of power and magic and darkness.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Uabhann," he said mildly. "I am Dread."

"Ah," Rnach managed. "An interesting thing to be."

"I have sent you dreams before."

"That," Rnach said with feeling, "I do not doubt in the slightest."

"Come in," Uabhann said, beckoning for him to enter. "I don't get very many visitors."

Rnach imagined he didn't. He walked into the man's chambers and blinked in surprise. He could have been standing in the midst of any suite of rooms favored by a cultured gentleman. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure he hadn't seen that same style of sofa in the headmaster of Buidseachd's private solar. He thought he might like to know how that could possibly be, but perhaps later, when he was certain he would toddle back out that doorway alive.

He accepted a seat in front of a roaring fire, then didn't protest the further offering of what looked to be a gla.s.s of port.

"Not poisoned," Uabhann a.s.sured him. "In case you were wondering."

"The thought crossed my mind."

"That thought crosses everyone's mind."

Rnach almost laughed, but he thought that might be inappropriate. He sipped instead, thanked his host for the excellence of his libations, then set his gla.s.s down on the table at his elbow. He looked at the man sitting across from him, wearing runes that were only barely visible, and surrounded by a darkness that wasn't necessarily evil.

"How long have you been at this?" he asked politely.

"At what?"

"The business of nightmares."

Uabhann smiled. "Long enough."

"Don't suppose you gave my father any, did you?"

"I imagine I did, Prince Rnach."

Rnach acknowledged the recognition with a nod. "I should thank you, then, for he had terrible ones."

"Most were of his own making," Uabhann said. "Guilty conscience, you know, troubling his sleep. I just added a few threads here and there when necessary."

Rnach didn't doubt it. He considered, then decided there was no sense in not asking for what he needed.

"I have a book I need to look at."

"Something nasty?"

"Fairly. And I'm afraid that if I open it in the great hall, I'll bring the whole place down around my ears."

Uabhann rubbed his hands together. "Sounds delightful. Let's have a look here, then, shall we? Sorraidh and I have an understanding, as you might imagine."

Rnach didn't dare speculate, but he imagined they did indeed. He nodded, then took the book in both hands. He had to admit that he was nervous about opening it anywhere. He had very vivid memories of his grandfather's glamour protesting the action. Loudly.

"I'm not evil, you know."

Rnach looked at him. "I never said you were."

"I make people uneasy."

Rnach imagined he did. Uabhann wasn't handsome, which Rnach supposed was his saving grace. In his experience, evil had a very attractive face, which was what gained it entrance where it might not have found an open door otherwise. He shrugged.

"You don't bother me."

"Not as ugly as your sire, eh?"

"Actually," Rnach said, "you're quite a bit uglier than my sire, if you don't mind my saying so."

That was an understatement, he had to admit. He was hardly any judge of male beauty, he supposed, but he had two good eyes and he could tell the difference between a troll and a faery. His father had been terribly handsome and all the more dangerous because of it.

Uabhann only smiled. "I'll accept the compliment. Thank you."

"But still I don't think you're evil," Rnach added.

"Perhaps your sight is clearer than most."

"And perhaps you force people to see things they wouldn't like to."

Uabhann lifted his eyebrows briefly. "Perhaps." He sat back and looked at Rnach. "I do like the light," he admitted, "but I do my best work in the shadows."

"That seems reasonable," Rnach said. "No darkness, no appreciation for light."

"What do you prefer, Prince Rnach?"

"Rain."

Uabhann looked at him, then smiled. "I see I'll need to plan a bit more to entrap you, won't I?"

"Is that your goal?"

"We've been without a First for almost three decades now," Uabhann said with a shrug. "Aisling comes from a long line of powerful, canny women. Don't want her being bamboozled by a pretty face."

"I thought the hall doors would kill me if Bruadair didn't like me," Rnach said.

"Her," Uabhann said distinctly. "They would have killed her. You, Your Highness, have a far different test to pa.s.s."

"Any hints?"

"Do you need hints?"

"They might be useful."

And then he felt something tugging at his soul, though perhaps that was a poor way to put it. There was something calling to him, singing with a song that was almost too tempting to resist.

Calling to his pride.

His ego.

His mighty magic.

It was tempting to trot out a few spells for Uabhann and show him just what he was capable of- He looked at Uabhann and let out his breath slowly. "I see."

"Oh, laddie, I don't think you've but begun to see, but there you have it." He shrugged. "I make people uneasy."

"I can see why."

Uabhann looked at him. Well, through him, actually. Rnach decided that perhaps he would do well to tread carefully around that one who was obviously not precisely what he seemed to be.

"Your half brother has dark dreams."

Rnach wondered if he should not bother looking any further at his book when apparently a veritable font of tidings was sitting right there in front of him. "Are you encouraging that?"

Uabhann smiled. "The idea has occurred to me."

Rnach suspected it had done more than just occur to the man in front of him. "How did you come to be here?"

"My father was a dreamspinner," Uabhann said, "and his father before him. Where our line began, I hesitate to say for the source is not pleasant." He paused and looked at Rnach. "My grandfather's grandfather was reared . . ." He paused again. "The locale is not pleasant either. Let us simply say that it gave him a unique perspective on evil and all its incarnations."

"I won't speculate."

"You likely shouldn't." Uabhann gestured toward Rnach's book. "Let's discuss that instead. What is it besides something nasty?"

"A book I created of spells to counter my father's spells," Rnach said slowly, "a book I didn't realize had been lost. When I found the book where I hadn't left it, I quickly realized the innards were missing and had been replaced with what the covers currently hold."

"Who lost the book?"

Rnach considered. "Lost was perhaps a poor choice of words. I left it in the care of the witchwoman of Fs, but she didn't guard it very well." Or at all was what he didn't add and likely didn't need to add.

"I've wandered in that woman's dreams. They're as tangled as her hair, if you're curious."

"I was and I'm utterly unsurprised. The twistings and turnings of just her conversation are alarming."

"I believe you. So, what's inside your little book now?"

"Scratches."

Uabhann rose. "Bring it over to the table by the window, if you like." He shot Rnach a look. "It keeps the sunlight lovers happy."

Rnach imagined it would. He took his book over, set it down on the table, then looked at Uabhann briefly. Bruadair's spinner of nightmares only watched him without expression. Rnach cast caution-and his hope of continuing to breathe, it had to be said-to the wind, then opened his book.

The chamber didn't shriek, but he felt something shift. Uabhann peered at the contents, then whistled softly.

"Isn't that interesting."

"Is it?"

He looked at Rnach from the same ageless eyes Aisling had. "You don't have a clue what's there, do you?"

Rnach leaned on his hands. "I'm guessing it might be a map of portals."

Uabhann laughed a little. "Portals. Haven't heard them called that in years. Sounds like something Muinear would call them."

"What would you call them?"

"Doorways," Uabhann said with a shrug, "but I haven't much of an imagination. I like my nightmares to be fairly straightforward without undue fuss accompanying them."

Rnach would have laughed, but he suspected Uabhann was utterly serious. Suddenly, Uabhann turned and made a bit of a bow. Rnach looked over his shoulder to find Aisling standing there just inside the doorway.