Alec lowered his sword, but any compassion he’d felt for his false protector was gone. Ilar was now his betrayer, too.

Seregil took Alec by the arm and drew him away from the others.

“Let it go, talí,” Seregil whispered. “Ilar’s a silky customer, and always was. Whatever happened between you-”

“You think something happened?” Alec sputtered, stung by the notion.

“I saw you two down in the garden, by the fish pool,” Seregil told him, sounding pained to have to speak of it.

Alec took his hand. “He tried to seduce me. Even though I trusted him then, I wouldn’t betray you. I wasn’t even tempted.”

Seregil raked his fingers back through his shorn hair, the way he did when he was particularly uncomfortable or exasperated. “It’s all right. But I remember what he was like-what he’s still like.”

“And yet you didn’t kill him?”

“You stopped me, remember?”

Alec clenched his fists in frustration. “And now we have to anyway, or keep dragging him along so he doesn’t betray us.”

Even in this light he could make out Seregil’s strained little half smile. “I’ve never been much for killing in cold blood, and neither are you. I suppose we’re stuck with him, at least until we’re far enough away from Yhakobin that it doesn’t matter.”

“I still don’t understand. You always said you’d kill him on sight!”

Seregil shook his head. “I’ve seen his scars, talí, and what’s been done to him all these years. He’s not the man I remember. He’s-broken.”

“You pity him?”

“You’re no more surprised than I am. But what could I do to him that his life here hasn’t done already?”

Alec paused, trying to take that in. “Were you with him, all the time we were apart?”

“No, not for the first part. There was an old woman who looked after me while I was sick.”

“I saw you, on the ship. At first I thought you were dead.”

“I damn near did die from the magic they put on me. I don’t know how long I slept, or what he did to me while I did, but when I woke up it was just the old woman for a long time. Ilar showed up later, after he made sure I saw you two together in the garden.”

“That bastard!” he hissed. “How was he with you?”

“He had me at his mercy, and he enjoyed it.”

Alec thought he caught just the slightest hint of uncertainty in his lover’s voice. “Did he force you-”

“You saw what they did to him. But if that had been what it took to get to you, I would have, without a second thought.” Seregil pulled him close again. “Would you have hated me for that?”

Alec looked deep into his own heart. “No,” he murmured, and felt Seregil’s sigh of relief.

“Besides, I attacked him the first chance I got,” Seregil added, clearly pleased at that. “After that, he knew I’d kill him the minute he let his guard down. Whatever else Ilar is, he’s no fool. Come on, now. We’ve got to find someplace to lie up before the sun rises.”

“How far to the Strait?”

“I’m not sure, but if we turn south tomorrow, we’re bound to strike it.”

“And then?”

Seregil gave him a crooked grin. “We take what the Lightbearer sends. Hopefully in the form of a nice swift little boat, eh? Luck in the shadows, Alec. It hasn’t failed us yet.”

“And in the Light,” Alec murmured, hoping the Immortal in question was listening.

As they moved on, Seregil half expected Alec to drop the rhekaro and attack Ilar again.

Instead, when Ilar fell behind, Alec resumed their earlier conversation. “So, who do you think betrayed us to Yhakobin in the first place? The queen, or Ulan í Sathil?”

“I don’t know. Maybe both. But having had a good long time to ponder the matter, I’d say that if the queen was looking for an excuse to cast doubt on her sister’s loyalty, our disappearance with the only missive might be a good starting point.”

“What about Prince Korathan? Would he do something like that to you?”

Seregil frowned. “I wouldn’t have said so, but who knows? If things are really that bad, there isn’t much point in going back to Skala.”

“Do you think Micum knows we’re in trouble yet? Thero must have figured out there was something wrong when the messages didn’t come.”

“We don’t know that they didn’t get them, Alec. Whoever caught us might have figured the sticks out and used them. There’s no way of telling. It’s just us, talí. We’re on our own.”

Alec shrugged. “Well, we’re free, and we’re together. That’s a start.”

Seregil’s grin was all the answer he needed.

CHAPTER 39 Thero Turns Nightrunner

LED BY THERO’S sightings, he and Micum entered Virésse as travelers and lost themselves in the crowds of one of the seedier dock wards. They soon located the tavern with the dragon and serpent sign-a low, dirty place frequented by Skalan and Plenimaran sailors, Zengati traders, and other rough sorts. There were no ’faie there, apart from the proprietor-a one-eyed Golinil clansman named Wharit. He was as dirty and disreputable as his clientele, distinguished only by his lack of facial hair and his filthy brown-and-white sen’gai. The barmaids and potboys were all foreigners, as were the whores plying their trade there.

Micum stopped just inside the door and wrinkled his nose at the stink of smoke and unwashed bodies, then said softly, “This isn’t quite how I pictured Aurënen.”

“Virésse port is a meeting place for all sorts.”

Micum adjusted his sword belt for the benefit of anyone taking his measure. “That’s all right, then. I know how to act here.”

They sat down at a small table and Micum called for a pitcher of turab from a passing barmaid, holding up a silver half-sester piece and giving her a rakish smile. The woman’s smile was bright and false as brass, but she brought them their beer and settled on Micum’s knee.

“You got the sound of a Skalan, my dear,” she purred, eyeing the silver piece. She had a Riga accent and dark, sharp eyes.

Micum tucked the coin between her ample breasts and squeezed her thigh, while Thero looked on with poorly concealed surprise. “I’m a long way from home, my girl, and always glad to see a pretty face. Even if she is too young for me.”

The woman, who was most assuredly not too young for anyone, wiggled suggestively and stroked his stubbled cheek. “You’re a charmer. Will you want a room for sleeping, you and your friend?” She gave Thero a sloe-eyed look that made the younger man blush.

“Indeed we will,” said Micum. “But not until we’ve had some hot food and a decent wash.” He produced another coin and held it up. “Can you help us with that?”

“We have good food, and a tub in the yard out back.” She eyed the coin meaningfully. “For men I like, I can get you hot, fresh water.”

Micum laughed and gave her another squeeze and the coin. “Ah, you’re honeycomb, girl, sweet as can be. What’s your name, my dove?”

“Rose to you, handsome.”

“Well, then, Rosie my love.” He set her on her feet and gave her a playful smack on the bottom. “Whatever you’ve got cooking back there, bring us the best of it and tell ’em to warm up that tub!”

She laughed and flounced off toward the kitchens.

“No wonder Kari wants you kept at home!” Thero exclaimed under his breath.

Micum sipped his turab, smiling. “Time and place, my friend. All that dolly really wants is my silver.”

“But what if she wants more?”

“Well, Seregil generally used to handle that end of things when the need arose. But you’re welcome to step in, seeing as he’s not here.”

“I don’t have the right sort of healing spells to risk it!”

“Don’t be unkind. You don’t know the life she’s had, stuck in a place like this. She’s probably somebody’s grandmother by now, three or four times over. Now, as to why we’re here, about to risk a dose of slop belly on the food?”