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Authors: Lynn Flewelling

BOOK: The White Road
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“If that’s what Yhakobin really wanted, then he’d have used Seregil instead,” Alec mused. “Besides, he didn’t know I had the mark until after he’d bought me, and didn’t know what it was once he did. I told him it was just decoration.” He looked to Thero. “What about the Orëska? Nysander knew about the Helm. Maybe there’s some wizard guarding this rhekaro secret, too.”

“It’s doubtful,” said Magyana. “Skala barely existed when the Hâzad went north. And even if there is someone, it’s quite possible that he or she is sworn to utter secrecy, as Nysander was. Or dead. We lost so many during the assault on the Orëska House.”

“Maybe so, but don’t you think that somewhere, down in all those vaults, there might be
something
about this?” Seregil gave her a winning look. “If anyone would know
where to look, it’s you. You know those cellars better than anyone.”

“I’ll look around as soon as I go back, but it’s likely to take a long time, since I don’t know what I’m looking for. There are a few people I could speak with, but you shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“It would be an easier task for two people,” said Thero. “I had a message spell from Prince Korathan’s wizard, Norubia, last night. The prince is losing patience waiting for us to come back and account for ourselves. If I don’t bring you back, then I’d better have a good story. Otherwise it’s likely to raise questions you don’t want asked.”

“I hate to put you in that position,” said Seregil. “But there’s no way we can take Sebrahn to Rhíminee. It would be damn near impossible to hide anyone with a ‘dragon aura’ or whatever it is in a city full of wizards, and if Queen Phoria ever got wind of what Sebrahn is capable of, she’d have him and Alec caged like a pair of chukarees to use against the Overlord’s armies in her endless war.”

“Do you think that was the real reason Sebrahn was made?” asked Magyana.

Alec shook his head. “If Yhakobin had known about the killing power, he and his slave takers wouldn’t have made a head-on charge against us. We have that secret in our favor, at least.”

“Do you know anything more about the Hâzadriëlfaie, Seregil?” asked Magyana.

“Only that they took their reasons north with them when they left. Everyone in Aurënen knows the tale.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Thero said, pointing at Sebrahn. “If I knew someone was going to use me for that sort of thing, I’d run, too.” He paused, then gave Alec an apologetic look. “I meant no offense.”

“None taken.” Alec was too busy wondering how many people had been hung in cages and bled to make the white creatures before the prophet Hâzadriël had her mysterious vision.

“Thero’s right,” said Seregil. “I’ve been up around
Ravensfell Pass. It’s the ass end of nowhere, and about as far from Plenimar as you can get. This must be why they’ve been so insular.”

“They killed my mother for bearing a ya’shel child, and tried to kill my father and me, too,” Alec told Magyana. “He spent the rest of his life on the move. I didn’t know why at the time, but it must have been to keep them from finding us again.”

“He never spoke of any of that to you?”

“No. He wasn’t much of a talker, my dad. And if I asked about my mother, he’d just say it was better for me not to know. As I got older, I wondered if she’d broken his heart, maybe by running off with another man.” He shook his head. “After the vision the Dragon Oracle showed me at Sarikali, I’m ashamed to have thought of her that way.”

“You had no way to know, dear boy.” Magyana patted his hand. “Your father was a wise man. He must have loved your mother a great deal to risk so much for her. And for you, as well. As for the Hâzad, consider the consequences of a person of their blood finding his way south again.”

“A dragon oracle, and a dragon child …,” murmured Seregil, wandering over to the window.

Alec suddenly gave a great yawn. Magyana laughed and held out a hand to Micum and Thero. “There’s nothing to be gained by dwelling on such things now. Come along, you two, and let Alec rest. Thero, you must compose your response to the prince and send word to the captain of the
Lark
that we mean to sail tomorrow.”

Seregil turned and headed for the door with them. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Where are you going?” asked Alec.

“To talk to my sister.”

Before Alec could get more of an answer than that, Seregil was gone again.

It was still raining, so Seregil brought Adzriel up to one of the rooftop
colos
. Its domed roof kept them dry, but the tall window openings hadn’t been shuttered and the wind off the sea was raw. Sitting down on one of the stone
benches, Adzriel pulled her cloak about her and looked up expectantly.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” he told her.

“Are you speaking to me as your sister or a khirnari?”

Seregil smiled slightly. “Both?”

She patted the seat beside her and took his hand. The familiarity of it make him feel like a child again, just for a moment. “Go on, then.”

“I believe that Sebrahn is the child the Dragon Oracle at Sarikali told Alec about.”

“That would make sense.”

“Did Magyana tell you what she sees when she looks at Sebrahn?”

“No,” said Adzriel, “but I assume you mean the strange aura about him. I thought you must know, but since you didn’t speak of it …”

“Ah. So you see the dragon, too?”

“A dragon? No, it shifts and glimmers. Can Alec see it?”

“No, and neither can I. Magyana and Thero just told us.” He paused, looking down at their joined hands. “I’d like to take Sebrahn to Sarikali, since it was the oracle there who foretold it. Perhaps the
rhui’auros
will know what he is.” The temple mystics—the only permanent residents of sacred Sarikali—were renowned for their knowledge and visions, and the Dragon Oracle was theirs—or they were its. No one knew for sure.

“You know I don’t have the authority to give permission for you to take something as strange as Sebrahn onto sacred ground, little brother, even if I went with you. That would require a vote by the entire Iia’sidra Council, and that could take a year or more.”

“We can’t wait that long.” He thought a moment, trying to come up with some other option. “Is Tyrus still around?”

“As far as I know, he’s still up in the hills.”

“Then, speaking to my khirnari, may I bring Sebrahn to Bôkthersa?”

Adzriel considered this for a long moment. “I don’t suppose Riagil will let you stay here much longer. It’s clear that Sebrahn scares him.”

“He’s a smart man.”

“Then Sebrahn does have some darker power?”

Seregil looked up into grey eyes identical to his own. “Sebrahn can kill. With a song. He heals with his blood, and he can kill with his voice.”

She didn’t appear surprised. “Who has he killed?”

“The men who caught us in Plenimar—Yhakobin’s slave takers.”

“He killed them because they attacked you and Alec?”

“Yes. And that’s the only time. Then again, we’ve only had him for a few weeks. I have no idea what else he’s capable of.”

She raised a disapproving eyebrow at him. “I can still tell when you’re lying to me, Haba.”

“Yes, I suppose you can. All right then, here’s all of it.” Seregil lowered his voice, though it would have been difficult for anyone to hear them over the wind. “He can raise the dead.”

“Raise the dead?” This time she was clearly surprised.

“Yes. Alec wasn’t just hurt in Plenimar. He was killed.” The words came out in a rush now. “We were totally outnumbered by Yhakobin’s men. Alec was struck by two arrows and that’s when Sebrahn sang; it killed every man left standing. I killed Yhakobin myself.” He rubbed at his eyes. “But Alec was dying when I got back to him. That’s why he’s in such bad shape now, and I’m not.” Tears stung his eyes; the memory was too raw. “Sebrahn brought him back from Bilairy’s gate.”

“But—are you certain he was actually dead?”

“Yes!” Seregil’s voice was suddenly a little unsteady. “I held him in my arms and watched the blood stop flowing from his wounds. I saw his eyes fix. I
know
what death looks like, Adzriel. He was dead.”

“I see.” She was quiet for some time. At last, she laid a hand on his arm. “Then, yes, you must come to Bôkthersa and speak with Tyrus. If Sebrahn is somehow a dragon, then Tyrus will know. Even if he doesn’t, then at least you’ll be
safe for a time with us. You can rest and decide what to do next.”

“Sebrahn may be a danger to the clan, you know.”

“That is my responsibility. And what about Alec? Don’t you want him safe?”

“Of course.” He squeezed her hand. “Thank you, eldest sister.”

“Then that’s settled. But you haven’t said who kidnapped you. Micum and Thero spoke of finding the slavers who took you, but they seemed to think there was more to it.”

“Indeed. The slavers told them that Ulan í Sathil ransoms slaves from Virésse and Goliníl.”

Her grey eyes widened in dismay. “You don’t think that Ulan í Sathil had something to do with this?” If true, it was an unforgivable breach of
atui—
Aurënfaie clan honor—and could spark a bloody feud with Akhendi, in whose
fai’thast
they’d been ambushed, as well as with Bôkthersa and Gedre, whose people had been killed along with the Skalan escort. “Do you have any proof of this?”

“No. But the slavers who took us were not the ordinary lot. They struck too far inland, and they had a necromancer with them.” He paused, weighing his words. “I wouldn’t have thought of Ulan, except that Yhakobin mentioned to Alec that he traded with him.”

“It’s no secret that Virésse trades with Plenimar. Who can blame the khirnari for saving his own people any way he can? I’d do the same, in his place.”

“Yes, but it’s also no secret here that Alec is half Hâzadriëlfaie. Ulan could have told his friend Yhakobin about Alec to buy favor.”

“That is conjecture, Seregil, not proof.”

“It just seems like too many coincidences.”

“I’d like to see Sebrahn again,” Adzriel said, rising and going to the door of the colos.

Seregil smiled as he followed; she’d spoken more like a khirnari just now than a sister.

Together they went down to Alec’s room. Sebrahn was on the bed at Alec’s side. Magyana and Thero were with them,
too, and there were
bakshi
stones and coins strewn across the quilt.

Sebrahn retreated closer to Alec as Adzriel sat on the bed next to him.

“Give me your hand, Sebrahn,” she said softly. Sebrahn let her clasp it. She continued to look at him intently, and Seregil knew she was seeing whatever it was that the wizards did.

“I feel no evil in him. Riagil mistakes power for that,” she murmured. “Alec, can you control his singing?”

“You told her?” Alec asked, surprised and none too pleased, either.

“I had no choice,” Seregil explained. “We need to go to Bôkthersa, and she deserves to know the whole truth. There’s a man named Tyrus there who might be able to help us; he knows more about dragons and their lore than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s called Dragon Friend.”

“Why?”

“Because he lives with the young ones, and talks to the old ones.”

“There are dragons in Bôkthersa?” Alec’s eyes were as wide as Micum’s little daughter’s when Seregil brought her a present.

“Don’t you remember what I told you when we first met, when I was trying to talk you into staying with me?”

“That you’d seen dragons flying under a full moon?”

“You’ll see them, too,
talí.”

“How? When?”

Seregil grinned and exchanged a look with his sister. “I’d rather have it be a surprise.”

“Have it your way,” he said, bemused. He turned to Adzriel. “You think Sebrahn is actually a dragon?”

“No, but he seems to be connected to them in some way, if only through the oracle. Since Sarikali is out of the question, you must bring him to Tyrus.”

“Why can’t we go to Sarikali?” asked Alec.

“I’ll explain later. What do you say, talí?” asked Seregil.

“I say we go!”

Seregil smiled. “Then it’s settled. Thank you, sister.”

She rose and kissed them both on the forehead. “I’ll send word to my captain to get the ship provisioned. It will take some time, but Alec must have more time to regain his strength.”

“I’m fine!”

Adzriel laughed as she went out. “That’s for Mydri to say, little brother.”

Seregil chuckled, too, knowing that Alec was heartily sick of people fussing over him. The promise of Bôkthersa was probably more than enough to make it bearable, though.

Going home at last
, he thought with a mix of excitement and concern.

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.”

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