Stalking Darkness (73 page)

But there was no sign of Cynril here. Cursing softly to himself, Alec dismounted for a closer search, then walked back onto the bridge and scanned the hillside, looking for telltale lines across the dewy meadow. Nothing there either, or on the hill trail. He was about to ride back for Micum when a patch of freshly turned gravel on the stream bank above the bridge caught his eye.

You went up the streambed, you sneaky bastard!

Alec thought with grudging admiration. The bridge was too low to ride under and there were no other signs downstream. Upstream lay Beka’s otter pond, and the illfated pass that Alec had crossed to Warnik’s valley.

And beyond that, the whole damn world.

Mounting again, Alec rode up the trail. The streambed grew steeper and he soon found where Seregil had been forced to come up onto the trail.

Judging by the tracks, he’d traveled quickly from here. Heedless of the branches that whipped at his face and shoulders, Alec kicked Patch into a gallop again.

When the clearing around the pond came into view ahead, he was both relieved and surprised to see Seregil there, sitting motionless in the saddle as if admiring the morning.

Alec’s first reaction to Seregil’s letter had been only the desperate desire to find him. He realized now that there had also been a generous leaven of anger mixed in.

When Seregil raised his head now, looking back at him with an expression of startled wariness, the anger took over. It was the look you’d give an enemy.

Or a stranger.

“Wait—” Seregil called, but Alec ignored him. Digging his heels into Patch’s sides, he charged Seregil, bearing down on him before he could turn his own horse out of the way. The animals collided and Cynril reared, throwing Seregil off into the water. Alec leapt down and waded in after him.

Grabbing Seregil by the front of his tunic, he hauled him to his knees and shook the crumpled note in his face.

“What’s this supposed to be?” he yelled. “‘All I have in Rhiminee is yours now’? What is this?”

Seregil struggled to his feet and pulled free, not meeting Alec’s eye. “After everything that’s happened—” He paused, took a deep breath. “After all that, I decided it would be better for everyone if I just went away.”

“You decided. You decided?” Furious, Alec grabbed Seregil with both hands and shook him. The wrinkled parchment drifted across the pool, hung a moment against a stone, and spun away unnoticed down the stream. “I followed you over half the earth to Rhiminee for no other reason than you asked me to! I saved your damn life twice before we even got there and how many times since? I stood with you against Mardus and all the rest. But now, after moping around all summer, you decide you’re better off without me?”

Color flared in Seregil’s gaunt face. “I never meant for you to take it that way. Bilairy’s Balls, Alec, you saw what happened at the Cockerel. That was my fault. Mine! And it was only thanks to Ashnazai’s twisted vanity that you didn’t end up dead with them. Micum’s crippled for life, in case you didn’t notice, lucky to be alive. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve almost gotten him killed before? And Nysander—Let’s not forget what I did for him!”

“Nysander sent me!”

Seregil went ashen. “What did you say?”

“Nysander sent me after you,” Alec told him. “I don’t know if it was a dream or a ghost or what, but he woke me and told me to go after you. Illior’s Hands, Seregil, when are you going to forgive yourself for just doing what he asked you to?” He paused as another thought dawned on him. “When are you going to forgive Nysander?”

Seregil glared at him wordlessly, then pushed Alec’s hands away. Sloshing up to the bank, he sank down on a log overlooking the pond. Alec followed, settling on a rock beside him.

Seregil hung his head and let out an unsteady breath. After a moment he said, “He knew. He should have told me.”

“You would have tried to stop him.”

“Damn right I would have!” Seregil flared, clenching his fists on his knees. Angry tears spilled down his cheeks, the first Alec had ever seen him shed.

“If you’d done that, we’d have failed,” Alec said, moving to sit beside him on the log. “Everything Nysander worked for would’ve been lost. The Helm would have taken him over and he’d have ended up as their Vatharna.”

For an instant Alec thought he felt the wizard’s touch against his hand again. “I think he must be grateful to you.”

Seregil covered his face, giving way at last to silent sobs. Alec wrapped an arm around him, holding him tightly. “You were the only one who loved him enough not to hesitate when the time came. He knew that. In the end you saved him the only way you could. Why can’t you let yourself see that?”

“All these weeks—” Seregil shrugged helplessly. “You’re right, right about everything. But why can’t I feel it? I can’t feel anything anymore! I’m floundering around in a black fog. I look at the rest of you, see you healing, going on. I want to, but I can’t!”

“Just like I couldn’t make myself jump that time at Kassarie’s keep?” Seregil let out a small, choked laugh. “I guess so.” “So let me help you, the way you helped me then,” Alec persisted. Seregil wiped his nose on his sodden sleeve. “As I recall, I threw you off the roof into a gorge.” “Fine, if that’s what it takes to show you that I’m not about to let you slink away like some old dog going off to die.”

The guilty look that crossed his friend’s face told Alec his worst fears had been correct. “I’m not letting you go,” he said again, gripping Seregil’s sleeve for emphasis.

Seregil shook his head miserably. “I can’t stay here.”

“All right, but you’re not leaving me.”

“I thought you’d be happy at Watermead.”

“I love everyone there like my own family, but not—” Alec broke off, feeling his face go warm.

“But not what?” Seregil turned and brushed a clump of damp hair back from Alec’s face, studying his expression.

Alec forced himself to meet Seregil’s questioning gaze squarely. “Not as much as I love you.”

Seregil looked at him for a moment, grey eyes still sad. “I love you, too. More than I’ve loved anyone for a long time. But you’re so young and—” He spread his hands and sighed. “It just didn’t seem right.”

“I’m not that young,” Alec countered wryly, thinking of all they’d been through together. “But I am half faie, so I’ve got a lot of years ahead of me. Besides, I’ve only just begun to understand Aurenfaie, I still don’t know one style of snail fork from another, and I can’t jigger a Triple Crow lock. Who else is going to teach me all that?”

Seregil looked out over the pond again. “‘Father, brother, friend, and lover.””

“What?” A coldness passed over Alec’s heart; Mardus had spoken almost those same words when asking about his relationship to Seregil.

“Something else the Oracle of Illior said that night I asked about you,” Seregil answered, watching an otter slip into the water. “I kept thinking I had it all sorted out and settled, but I don’t. I’ve been the first three to you and swore that was enough, but if you stay on with me—“

“I know.” Catching Seregil off guard, Alec leaned forward and pressed his lips to Seregil’s with the same mix of awkwardness and determination he’d felt the first time.

But when he felt Seregil’s arms slip around him in a welcoming embrace, the confusion that had haunted him through the winter cleared like fog before a changing wind.

Take what the gods send, Seregil had told him more than once.

He would, and thankfully.

Seregil drew back a little, and there was something like wonder in his grey eyes as he touched Alec’s cheek. “Anything we do, tali, we do with honor. Before all else, I’m your friend and always will be, even if you take a hundred wives or lovers later on.”

Alec started to protest but Seregil smiled and pressed a finger across his lips. “As long as I have a place in your heart, I’m satisfied.”

“You always have to have the last word, don’t you?” Alec growled, then kissed him again. The feel of Seregil’s lean body pressing against his own suddenly felt as natural and easy as one stream flowing into another. His last remaining worry was that he had very little idea about how to proceed from here.

The sound of a horse coming up the trail at a gallop forestalled the issue for the moment. “I can guess who that is,” Seregil groaned, standing up.

Micum burst into the clearing. “So here you are!” he exclaimed, glowering down at Seregil. “By the Flame, the whole house is in an uproar because of you!”

He pulled a rolled letter from his coat and held it up angrily. “You gave us a scare with this, you idiot. I don’t know whether to kiss you or kick your ass from here to Cirna!”

For the first time in months, Seregil summoned a cocky, crooked grin. “Don’t strain your leg on my account. Alec’s already done both.”

Micum took a second look at the two of them and returned the grin knowingly. “Well, it’s about time!”

Two days later Micum and his family gathered in the courtyard to wish Alec and Seregil a proper farewell.

“Will you be heading to Mycena from here?” asked Micum as they made a final check of their horses and gear.

“I imagine the queen will have some use for a couple of trustworthy spies.” Seregil shrugged noncommittally. “Winter’s not that far off. Idrilain is supposed to be somewhere above Keston now. There won’t be much to do once the snow flies. Maybe in the spring.”

Kari shifted Gherin in her arms and embraced him tightly, then Alec. Blinking back tears, she whispered, “Take care, both of you.”

Micum rested a hand on Seregil’s shoulder, looking at him as if he didn’t expect to see him again. “By the Flame, it’s hard not riding out with you. I wish you’d take my sword.”

Seregil shook his head. “That blade belongs with you. I’ll find another if I ever feel the need of one again. In the meantime, Alec’ll keep an eye on me.”

“You see that you do, Alec, or you’ll answer to us,” Micum said with gruff affection, exchanging a quick look with Kari. They’d both noted the new light in Seregil’s eyes whenever he looked at Alec, and how that same warmth was returned.

After all their farewells had been said, Seregil and Alec swung up on their Aurenfaie mounts and rode out the gate.

“What if the Queen doesn’t want us for spies in the spring?” Alec asked as they cantered down toward the bridge.

Seregil shrugged again. “Well then, we’re still some of the best damned thieves I know of. Never any shortage of work there.”

Kicking their mounts into a gallop, they raced down the hill side by side, and swung north to the open road beyond.