Casket of Souls

that
interesting
?’ ”
    Alec smothered a laugh. “You don’t think the princess is really interested in me, do you?”
    “She’s a young girl, talí, surrounded by women and old men. I expect any handsome young fellow would at least catch her eye.” He slipped his arm through Alec’s and kissed him on the cheek for the benefit of those stealing glances back at them and added in Skalan, “Not that I’m in any way discounting your natural charms.”
    The air in Dyer’s Street reeked of various pigments and their fixatives, mingled with the heavy odor of wet wool. Thero held up the hem of his blue robe as his horse splashed through a red puddle. The gutters here often overflowed, filling the street with swirling pools and rivulets of color-stained water and making islands of the cobblestones. A narrow boardwalk ran down each side of the street, for the benefit of those who had to pass through on foot.
    Without an apprentice to send on errands, Thero did his own shopping. He happened to enjoy it, and welcomed the opportunity to get out of the Orëska House, something hedidn’t do often enough these days, as Seregil most annoyingly insisted on pointing out whenever he saw him. Alec wasn’t much better, always after him to come to the gambling houses with them, or the theater. These days the younger man was constantly talking about some actor he admired, the one Thero had missed meeting at his party. Thero had no interest in gambling, and little time for pointless pleasures.
    Turning the corner, he left the puddles behind for the equally stained cobblestones of Painted Lane, the pigment dealers’ street. It was late morning and the street was crowded. There were dozens of shops here catering to artists, ink makers, mixers of cosmetics, and the occasional wizard. Thero needed a particular shade of purple ink for a spell and he knew just the shop to find the necessary dried thorn berries and another for the finest ink-making gums.
    He was coming out of Master Syin’s shop with the berries when a strange, crawling sensation ran up his spine. It was familiar, though it took him a moment to place it; he’d felt a hint of it at Alec’s birthday party. He looked around, trying to decide where in the crowd it was coming from. A tall, red-haired man with several large parcels under his arms caught the wizard’s eye; Thero only had a glimpse of a long, stern face and broad shoulders as the man wended his way deeper into the passing crowd. Leaving his horse tethered by Syin’s shop, the wizard shouldered his way through the crowd, stepping on the occasional foot in his haste to catch up to the man, but to no avail. By the time the crowed spilled out into the Sea Market, the fellow was nowhere to be seen. Thero could have cast a wizard eye, but it was difficult to concentrate in the commotion of the marketplace and the strange feeling was gone, leaving no trace to follow. He walked awhile in the direction he thought the man might have gone, but found no sign of him. Giving up, he went back to his shopping and soon forgot about it.
    There was an archery list just beyond the pavilion and Elani and Alec shot for a while with some of the young courtiers. The shatta Alec had given the princess hung fromher quiver, and similar ones from the quivers of some of the other archers, made of jewels and coins.
    “You’ve started a fashion,” Seregil noted as Alec stood waiting his turn.
    At midday everyone gathered in the pavilion for the luncheon picnic. There were cold aureoles and pheasant, bits of beef in a fiery red sauce, cardamom bread, strawberries and clotted cream, and plentiful wine and cider. Afterward the servants spread blankets on the ground and most of the courtiers sought out a shady spot for a nap through the hot part of the day. Seregil was about to do the same when Alaya came to him. “The princess has heard about your bakshi playing, Lord Seregil, and would like a game with you.”
    “Of course,” Seregil said. “Are there stones? I didn’t bring mine.”
    Stones were found and he joined the princess at one of several lichen-crusted marble tables under an ancient spreading oak.
    “I’ve heard a great deal from Reltheus about your skill at gaming,” Elani said, pouring her stones into the tray.
    “Alec can shoot. I can gamble, Highness,” Seregil said with a smile.
    “Perhaps you can teach me a thing or two, then. I don’t have much luck, but everyone except Alaya and Reltheus always tries to