Casket of Souls

workroom looked like. It was a bit overdone, but Thero refrained from saying so.
    Presently the handsome Atre appeared in an approximation of Orëska robes and began declaiming his intention to capture the heart of some unwilling woman with magic. Why on earth had Alec assumed he’d like this play? It was an appalling misuse of power! He glanced over at Seregil, who was sitting to Alec’s right, and his friend gave him a maddeningly innocent grin.
    Since he couldn’t very well leave, he poured himself a cup of wine and settled in to critique every error. But instead he found himself caught up in the story, which was far more complex than he’d expected, with very good costuming. He was actually enjoying himself when, at the beginning of the second act, a new actor came onstage. He was an imposing presence, very tall, with a long, stern face and red hair. It took Thero a moment to place him but he had an excellent memory for faces, even those he’d only glimpsed, and he certainly remembered that hair. This was the man from Painted Lane, the one on whom he’d thought he sensed magic.
    “Who is that?” he whispered to Alec.
    “Brader. He plays the second lead quite often. Good, isn’t he?”
    “Yes,” Thero murmured, gaze fixed on the actor. “Would it be possible for me to meet him after the play?”
    “Yes, of course. We’re dining with them afterward.” Alec gave him a knowing grin. “I told you you’d like it, didn’t I? Though it’s usually Atre that catches people’s eye.”
    “He’s quite remarkable. But I think I’ve seen the other one—Brader—before.”
    “Really, where?”
    “Are you two going to talk through the entire play?” Korathan hissed.
    Alec gave the wizard a comical look of embarrassment and settled back in his chair. Thero had to content himself with watching the rest of the play, impatient to get a closer look at this Brader fellow. Gradually the plot recaptured his interest, and by the end of the play he was hoping he was wrong, impressed as he was with the troupe’s talent.
    After the actors had taken their bows, Thero and his party waited in the box until the theater emptied, then went down to the stage area. When the actors came out to present themselves to Elani, Brader was not among them.
    “Your Highnesses, may I present Master Atre and his company,” Seregil said, doing the honors.
    “I’m so happy to see you onstage, after that wonderful performance you gave at Alaya’s that night!” Elani said, clearlyenchanted. She gave Merina a golden ring and Atre a small brooch studded with emeralds. “In honor of seeing you onstage at last. I hope you will keep them as a remembrance.”
    “As I do this ring, Highness,” Atre said, showing her a ring set with a large amethyst. He knelt dramatically and kissed her hand while the rest of the company bowed and curtsied.
    “Dare I hope you will join us for dinner with the company, Your Highnesses?” asked Seregil.
    “No,” Korathan replied, though Elani had for an instant looked hopeful.
    Brader came in from the wings just then, and although he was still several yards away, that strange feeling shivered up Thero’s back again, muted, but unpleasant. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and then Seregil was introducing him to the man.
    “My lord, we’re honored by your presence,” Brader said to Thero. “This is your first time with us, isn’t it?”
    “It is, Master Brader.”
    “I hope you weren’t offended by our humble efforts in portraying your vocation?”
    The man was quietly charming, but Thero was almost certain he felt another hint of the odd sensation again, though he couldn’t be certain.
    After seeing the royals into their magnificent carriage, Thero and the others accompanied the actors to a local tavern that everyone else seemed to be familiar with. The host saw to them personally and Thero found himself seated between the dark-haired beauty, Merina, and the pretty young woman named Tanni, who’d played the wizard’s daughter—another inconsistency, that, since Orëska wizards were always barren. But he soon forgot about such things, as both of them were charming and flirtatious. Brader was quite modest and reticent for an actor, and hard to draw into conversation. Atre, however, fit the mold perfectly, charmingly ruling the table. A very charismatic fellow, this one.
    “You must dine out every night with one admirer or another,” Palmani remarked.
    “Not every night,” Merina