Micum and the wizards came back soon after Adzriel had gone. Micum limped over to the bed and sat down. “We overheard your sister speaking with our host. I take it we’re not settling down here?”
“‘Guests and fish stink after three days,’ as they say,” Seregil told him with a crooked grin. “Are you all going back to Skala together?”
Micum raised an eyebrow. “If you think you two are going anywhere without me, you’d better think again. I’m not letting you out of my sight until you’re both safely settled, since you can’t seem to keep out of trouble.”
“What about Kari?” asked Alec.
“Thero’s already taken care of that with one of those message spells.”
“What did she say?” asked Seregil, though he had a pretty good notion.
Thero grimaced. “That she’d skin both me and Micum if we let anything else happen to either of you. Even allowing for the auditory limits of the spell, I had the impression that she meant it quite literally. She won’t be happy if she finds out I’ve deserted you. To be honest, I wish I was going with you.” Thero grinned in a way Seregil never would have imagined him capable of.
Micum laughed. “He’s finally gotten a taste of nightrunning and likes it. Don’t worry, Thero. I’ve had years of practice managing Seregil, and Alec’s not half the bother.”
“I suspect it will be easier than facing the prince and lying,” the young wizard replied. “I’ve never done that before. I don’t think Nysander ever did, either.”
“With Sebrahn’s powers, perhaps the rhekaro could end the war,” mused Magyana.
“Or wipe out the court and a lot of innocent Skalans,” said Alec. “As you said, Thero, you and Magyana can best protect us by convincing everyone there that we’re still recuperating.”
“When we’re not rummaging about in the Orëska vaults,” he said as he and Magyana rose to go.
“I’m rather looking forward to it,” said Magyana. “It’s been a while since I poked around down there.”
Seregil closed the door after them, then pulled off his boots and stretched out beside Alec, frowning.
“You’re worried about taking him to Bôkthersa, aren’t you?” asked Alec.
“Yes.” Seregil took Alec’s hand and absently rubbed his thumb over the scar on the palm. “But if Tyrus does know what Sebrahn is, that may go a long way to figuring out what to do. In the meantime, we need to keep a tight rein on him.” He looked at the rhekaro, who was now watching them from the foot of the bed. “No more singing, you. Understand? Bad.”
“Baaaad.”
“That’s right,” Alec said. “And now, I need a real bath!”
“Yes, you do.” Basin baths could only accomplish so much, but Seregil didn’t really mind; when he was locked in that cold cellar room under Yhakobin’s house, beaten and sick, Alec’s unwashed scent on a pillow had saved his sanity and reaffirmed his resolve. It affected him the same way now, but this time Alec was safe beside him.
Never again!
“Talí?” He smoothed a hand over Alec’s back, letting his fingers count the knobs of the younger man’s spine.
His only answer was soft, even breathing. Alec was fast asleep. Seregil smiled and settled back against the pillows. Baths could wait.
“Ahek. Sleeeeping,” Sebrahn rasped.
“Yes, sleeping. Go to the window.”
The rhekaro slowly slid off the bed and went back to the window seat. Once there, he fixed his gaze on the two of them. Perhaps it was a trick of the rain still beating against the windowpanes, making the light cast weird shadows, but Seregil could have sworn that Sebrahn looked resentful.
Can’t be helped, he thought. I had him first and you’re going to have to be the one who makes do.
CHAPTER 2
Wizard’s Work
THE WIZARDS were at their door early the following morning.
Magyana reached into her coat and gave Seregil a handful of small, painted willow wands. “Here are your message sticks. Break one and Thero and I will know you need us and where you are. And do try to hang on to them this time.”
Seregil gave her a wry look as he pocketed them. “Thank you.”
“I have something for you, too,” said Thero. “Actually, it’s an experiment of sorts. I was up all night designing it. Nysander excelled at transformation spells, and he passed that on to me. I think I might be able to give Sebrahn a more normal appearance. I’d be happier attempting it in a proper casting room, but here we are. First, Alec, make Sebrahn understand that I mean no harm.”
Alec reached out to Sebrahn and took his hands. “Thero is a friend, remember? He’s going to help you, so don’t be scared.”
Looking somewhat less than reassured, Thero took a lump of blue chalk from his belt pouch. “Move the bed against the wall and roll back the carpet, will you?”
Seregil and Micum pushed the heavy rope bed out of the way with Alec still in it, and drew back the carpet. Thero drew a wide circle on the bare floorboards and inscribed a complex ring of symbols around the inside rim. Standing in the center of it, he ran a critical eye over his handiwork. “There. That should hold in the damage, if it all goes wrong.”
“Goes wrong how? And what do you mean, ‘should’?” demanded Micum.
“Well, I’ve never attempted magic on a being of this nature. Don’t worry, I’ll start with something simple. Bring Sebrahn into the circle, Seregil. And I need a few strands of Alec’s hair, since Sebrahn was made from him.”
Alec gave him the hair and the others joined him, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Thero took out his crystal wand and wrapped the hairs around it. With his free hand he gathered Sebrahn’s long hair together, then ran the wand over the length of it from crown to ends. When he was finished, the rhekaro’s shining hair was the same rich honey gold as Alec’s.
“That’s better,” said Seregil, “but he’s still too pale. The hair only makes it more obvious.”
“I’m not done.” Thero pulled out a small pouch and took out a pinch of some kind of brown powder. Bowing his head, Thero murmured a spell and sprinkled it on Sebrahn’s head. In the blink of an eye the rhekaro had the sun-browned skin of a peasant boy. The only things not affected by the spell were his eyes. Those remained the same unnatural silver.
“That’s the best I can do, I’m afraid. I don’t want to risk blinding him.” Thero drew a small knife and cut through the edge of the protective circle. The design disappeared in a flash of light and Sebrahn scampered back to Alec.
“He looks good,” said Micum. “He really could be Alec’s boy, now.”
“His eyes are still a giveaway to anyone who knows what to look for, though,” Seregil mused.
“Cut his hair into long bangs,” Thero suggested. “It doesn’t all have to be magic. You’re the great master of disguise, as I recall.”
Alec, who’d been cutting Sebrahn’s hair several times a day for months now, went to work at that, and in a moment Sebrahn had a ragged fringe of hair hanging into his eyes. “That will have to do. How long will it last?” Thero asked Alec, brushing Sebrahn’s hair back from his face to inspect the changes.
“Hopefully until I spell him back to normal. But again, there’s no telling what effect Sebrahn’s unusual nature will have on the magic. It might all wear off tomorrow.”
“What happens when his hair grows?” asked Micum.
“The spell is on his body, not just the hair. It should be fine.”
“What about your magic? Couldn’t that attract attention if we run across the wrong sort of people?” asked Seregil.
“Not with transmogrification spells like these. His skin and hair really are that color for now.”
Seregil clasped hands with him. “Thank you. This will make a tremendous difference. Really, you’re invaluable, as always.”
Thero grinned. “Take care of yourselves. I hope you find what you’re seeking.”
“I hope you do, as well.”
Everyone went to see the wizards off except Alec and Sebrahn. Left behind in their continuing seclusion, they stood together at the window and watched the Lark set sail.