Rnach supposed it might be useful to ask a few pointed questions about Bruadair and its environs, but he suspected he would have the same answers he'd had at Inntrig, which were none. He looked over Soilleir's shoulder to find Ochadius of Riamh standing there, dressed like a palace guard.

"What are you doing?" Rnach demanded. "Escorting us inside?"

"I have other things to see to," Ochadius said hoa.r.s.ely, "though if you find Acair, tie him up and leave him for me. I have a few things to repay him for, should I have the good fortune to find his throat within reach of my grasping hands."

Rnach winced. "I appreciate the time you bought us at Taigh Hall."

"Happy to have been of service. Now, if you all will excuse me, I'll be off to make my own pieces of mischief."

And with that, he walked away and disappeared into the darkness.

Rnach turned to Soilleir. "Make me look like Aisling. I'll do what needs to be done, slay them all, then she can walk in and see to whatever's left."

Soilleir looked at him for far longer in silence than Rnach was comfortable with. He started to speak, but stopped when Aisling put her hand on his arm. Rnach realized only then that she had come to stand next to him.

"I must go."

Rnach closed his eyes briefly, then looked at her. She looked so calm, he flinched. He reached for her hand and pulled her into his arms, holding her close. She wasn't shaking; he was. He looked over her head at Soilleir.

"Very well," he said quietly. "We'll go as planned."

Soilleir's expression was very serious. "I've done what I can."

"I know."

"I can do no more."

"I know that too. Stay out of sight."

"Are you protecting me now?" Soilleir asked with a faint smile.

"Yes," Rnach said simply.

Soilleir looked a little winded, which Rnach supposed was nothing more than he deserved. If they survived the day, he supposed he might look back on that moment and enjoy his erstwhile host and mentor's inability to catch his breath.

He looked at Bristeadh. "Ready?"

Aisling's father nodded. Rnach realized that Aisling was watching him, which made him wish he dared hold her one more time. Not one last time, but just once more before they walked into darkness he didn't want to try to imagine. But he knew the time for that had pa.s.sed and there was nothing to be done but walk forward. He couldn't even bring himself to call the start of the battle, he simply waited for Bristeadh to take the lead and march them straight into h.e.l.l.

It was almost as terrible as he'd imagined it would be. Bristeadh walked out of the shadows, dragging Aisling by the arm, and marched across the road right up to the Guild's front gates. Rnach followed hard on his heels. The Guild guards were an unfortunately alert lot, surprisingly alert, actually, given that it was only a couple of hours before dawn.

That made him extremely nervous.

They were allowed in, however, without any fuss. He trotted out his best imitation of his grandfather, but even that didn't do anything to mitigate his unease. He stood in the Guild's vestibule, affecting a look of boredom laced with disdain coupled with a bit of outrage, and wondered how that might go over with anyone who was watching.

Time pa.s.sed with excruciating slowness, though he supposed he expected nothing else. He waited with a fair bit of manufactured impatience until the Guildmistress herself sauntered into view. It was an effort not to flinch. If nothing else could be said about the woman, it had to be said that Iochdmhor of wherever she'd come from was terrifying. For a moment, he had the most overwhelming urge to fling himself forward and confess all his crimes.

Then again, his father had inspired that sort of thing now and again, but Rnach was fairly sure Gair had used a spell. He didn't sense any magic coming from the woman who'd stopped in front of them and was looking at Aisling as if she'd been something recently sc.r.a.ped off the bottom of her shoe.

"I heard, but didn't believe," she drawled. "I see I was mistaken." She looked at Bristeadh. "You were successful."

"It took longer than I antic.i.p.ated, madame."

Rnach found himself under her scrutiny next.

"And what are you doing back here, merchant?"

"Her parents were unwilling to reimburse me for my goods and my time," he said with a careless shrug. "Since I provided an escort for these two over the past several hours, I thought you might want to perhaps reward me for my trouble."

"I daresay I might," she said, looking at him as if she didn't quite see him. "I think I might want to repay you handsomely for your efforts." She looked at the guard to her right. "Take George to the dungeon."

Rnach realized that's what Bristeadh was being called only after realizing that the Guild had a dungeon and that Aisling's father was going to be put in it. He forced himself not to react as Bristeadh was led off. A rescue would be accomplished soon enough if he could simply keep Aisling- "And you," the Guildmistress said, stepping close to Aisling and looking at her with an unwholesome light in her eye, "you, little runaway. Know that if it were my decision, I would have you flayed to within an inch of your life." She stepped back. "Unfortunately, that decision is not mine. Guards, take her to the sinner's dorm."

Rnach hardly dared attempt to identify the look in the woman's eye, but there was definitely madness lurking there. It took all his willpower to keep from pulling Aisling behind him, but he forced himself to remain still as she was taken roughly by the arms as if she were somehow thought capable of overcoming everyone in the Guild and needed to be restrained.

Which, he supposed, might well be the case in the end.

"We'll go with her," the Guildmistress said easily, "then I'll show you a guest chamber where you can rest from your journey. We'll discuss payment in the morning."

Rnach inclined his head because it was expected. He followed along after the guards and had to suppress the urge to knock one of them across the room after the man shoved Aisling so hard inside a chamber that she went sprawling. The door was slammed and locked without delay.

"And now you, good sir," the Guildmistress said. "Follow me, if you will."

Rnach ignored the hair standing up on the back of his neck and followed her without balking. That she didn't look back at him even once made him wonder, but what was he to do? He had to be inside and this was the price he had to pay.

He was shown into a surprisingly luxurious chamber, though he realized he shouldn't have expected anything else. Appearances needed to be kept up, no doubt.

The Guildmistress stood back and smiled. "Only the finest," she said smoothly.

Rnach hesitated, but hopefully so slightly that she hadn't noticed. He crossed the threshold and walked into the middle of the chamber.

The door slammed shut behind him and a key turned in the lock.

He stood where he was for a moment or two, wondering why he was in the slightest bit surprised, then walked back over to the door and made a great production of rattling the k.n.o.b.

"Let me out!" he shouted.

"It's for your own safety, of course. I'll keep a guard here for the remainder of the night, again for your protection."

"Well," he said loudly, "unorthodox, but I suppose there is merit to it."

She made no comment, but he hadn't expected anything else. He made himself at home on a chair and wondered how long he dared wait before he picked the lock, disabled the guard standing outside, and went about his business.

He didn't dare wait long.

Two hours later, he deposited his very pedestrian lock-picking tools in his pocket, thanking his late brother Gille for having decided it would be a brilliant skill for them all to have, and very quietly opened the door.

The guard there whirled around. Rnach would have apologized for shoving the heel of his hand into the guard's nose, then following that up with the hilt of his sword against the man's head, but he supposed there was no point. He dragged the man inside and deposited him on the bed. It would probably be the best night's sleep the poor fool had had in years.

He subst.i.tuted the man's cloak for his own and hoped that would be enough to at least keep other guards at bay long enough for him to get close enough to render them likewise useless. He left the chamber, locking the door behind him, then walked down the pa.s.sageway in the direction he'd come earlier.

Guards only nodded to him, which he supposed was nothing short of a miracle. He nodded back, complaining occasionally about the earliness of the hour and the quality of the b.u.t.tery offerings. No one questioned him as to why he was roaming the pa.s.sageways, so he continued on until he had no choice but to make a decision between Aisling and her father.

There was no choice.

He found the dormitories through sheer dumb luck and perhaps only because he continued to wander until he found the shabbiest part of the Guild. He knew he shouldn't have suspected anything else. He wasn't even surprised to find there was no guard at the door, though he wouldn't have been surprised to find the chamber itself full of men armed to the teeth, waiting for him.

Instead, it turned out to be a rather small chamber full of only a handful of beds stacked three high. He closed the door softly behind him and wasn't sure where to begin looking- Someone took him by the arm.

He almost jumped out of his skin. He was vastly relieved to see it was just Aisling. He was less relieved to see that she hardly seemed to be breathing. He took her hand quickly, but her fingers were like ice. He understood completely. He had a case of nerves he hadn't had since the last time he'd gone inside his father's private solar to nose about in his books whilst his father had been napping in his chair. He was too old to have to remind himself to breathe, but there it was.

He opened the door silently, looked out into the pa.s.sageway, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He drew Aisling out of the chamber behind him, then flattened himself against the wall.

"My father," she whispered. "We must find him."

He looked at her. "I don't think we dare-"

"I can't leave him there."

"We won't," he said quietly, "but if we go now, we'll likely wake the whole d.a.m.ned place."

She looked at the ceiling for a moment or two, then at him. "If we don't survive, he likely won't either."

"I didn't want to say it, but aye."

"Then let's see that we survive."

"Any ideas where to start?"

"I would say her private chambers, but I'm not sure I can stomach that to start with," she said grimly. She paused, then looked at him, dismayed. "I thought that perhaps once we reached the source of the-what would you call it?"

"Sink?"

"Aye, that. I thought perhaps the closer we came, the easier it would be to sense it, but I don't feel anything. Beul is almost empty of any magic I might be able to call on."

"That might be to our advantage," he offered. "Perhaps our adversaries will find themselves in the same situation."

"One could hope," she agreed. "But that doesn't aid us now. I suppose all we can do is roam the halls and see what we find."

"I take it you never did this before?"

She closed her eyes briefly. "Nay."

He didn't dare ask for the particulars. "Let's just walk," he suggested, "and see if we run into anything interesting."

An hour later he regretted heartily having suggested that. If picking the lock on his luxurious accommodations had been easy, and slipping down the pa.s.sageway slightly less easy, then trying to find from where Bruadair's magic was being drained was almost impossible. They had hidden in various corners, overhangs, and empty chambers until Rnach had wished they'd had a better idea coming inside where to look.

He finally leaned back against a doorway with Aisling and looked at her. "Any ideas?"

"I-"

The doorway opened suddenly behind him and he went sprawling across the threshold. Aisling fell alongside him with a squeak. She scrambled to her feet, then hauled him up to his. He smiled apologetically, then plunged the hapless, no doubt quite innocent, Guild guard who stepped into his line of sight into insensibility. He flexed his fingers a bit, wishing he'd been more accustomed to that sort of thing, then realized Aisling wasn't moving. He looked at her quickly, but she was simply standing there, gaping at something in the distance. He frowned, then turned to look at what she was seeing. He caught the door before it closed loudly, then let it slip shut with a soft click.

"I didn't know this was here," she whispered.

He imagined she couldn't help but wish she didn't still.

It was a garden, or, rather, it had been a garden. He suspected that in times past it had been an absolutely spectacular place. The only light there was from a dawn that had apparently bloomed whilst they'd been roaming the halls, but even that light revealed a glorious setting. He could see skeletons of trees and shrubs, long stretches of earth where flowers had no doubt been planted in pleasing patterns, numerous places to sit and enjoy the beauty there.

Now, it looked as the rest of Bruadair did, as if death had breathed on everything in sight and killed it without mercy.

In the middle of the garden lay-or, rather, had lain-a fountain. The only reason he knew that was that although the top two tiers were obviously missing, the bottom basin was still intact. It was enormous, actually. He supposed he could have stretched himself from one side to the other and scarce been able to keep himself out of the water. He realized with a start that the bottom basin was definitely not empty, and it wasn't water that filled it.

Aisling started forward, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. She looked up at him.

"That's it," she murmured. "You know what I'm talking about."

He did. It was where Bruadair's magic was being syphoned off to go heaven only knew where and through who knew which countries. He took her hand.

"I don't want you falling in."

She shivered. "I suppose that's a possibility."

"Not one I'll let happen," he said. "Let me go first."

She nodded, but didn't release his hand and didn't walk anywhere but beside him. He supposed there was no convincing her to do anything other than that.

He approached the fountain. It took no especial powers of observation to see that magic was indeed being drained into the lowest bowl there. Or, rather, that magic had once been drained there. Echoes of it lingered against stone that had turned black. Rnach knew the stone had been a beautiful slate blue before because there were patches of that color still visible amid the ruin.

"What to do now?" Aisling asked quietly.

"Well," a voice said from behind them, "why don't you let me suggest a few activities?"

Rnach whirled around almost knocking Aisling over. He caught her by the arm and wasn't sure what to do with himself. If he put himself in front of her, he might accidentally push her into the vortex behind him. If he left her beside him, she would be out in the open and more unprotected than he might like. Because he wasn't facing the Guildmistress, he was facing Acair of Ceangail.

Acair seemed to be considering something, though Rnach didn't dare speculate what. He wasn't reaching for a spell, which perhaps was the best they could hope for at the moment.

"How did you get inside Bruadair?" Rnach asked.

"Bribed a border guard. You?"

"The same."

"b.l.o.o.d.y ugly country," Acair said with a shudder. "At least what I've seen of it which, fortunately, hasn't been all that much." He looked at Aisling, dismissed her, then looked back at Rnach. "Let's cut out the chitchat, shall we? Give me what I want and I'll let you and your little wench there live."

"What do you want?" Rnach asked. "Or should I bother to ask?"

"I want what we all wanted, even you, little brother," Acair said. "Father's spell of Diminishing."