Luck in the Shadows

inch of wall space. More books were stacked in precarious piles on the floor and on the stairs that curved up to a walkway beneath the dome overhead.
    Around the room stood three large worktables and a high desk. Two of the tables were hopelessly laden; among the general clutter Alec noticed braziers, pots, covered jars, several skulls, and a small iron cage.
    On the third table a thick book lay open on a stand surrounded by a collection of fragile glass vessels and rods. The desk was also relatively clear, though a dusty formation of candle drippings cascaded to the floor from one corner of it where, over the years, one candle had been set into the guttering pool of its predecessor.
    Hooks and nails had been driven in anywhere there seemed to be room, and from these were hung an array of things ranging from dried leaves and skins to a complete skeleton of something that was decidedly not human.
    Nysander went to a small side door at the right side of the room and sent the litter bearers through with Seregil. Alec followed them into a small whitewashed chamber. In the middle of the room was a rectangular table of dark polished wood inlaid with ivory; a smaller one of similar design stood against the right-hand wall with a simple wooden chair.
    At Nysander's command, the servants placed Seregil's litter on the floor next to the long table and withdrew. No sooner had they gone than a thin young man in a spotless blue and white robe hurried in with an armload of leafy branches. His curly black hair was closely cropped and the sparse black beard edging his cheeks accentuated the gaunt planes of his pale, angular face.
    Setting his bundle down beside the smaller table, he brushed a few leaves from the front of his robe and glanced down at Seregil, his pale green eyes narrowing with distaste.
    "Ah, just in time!" Nysander said. "Alec, this is Thero, my assistant and protйgй. Thero, this is Alec, who has brought Seregil back to us."
    "Welcome," Thero said, though neither his voice nor his manner evinced any warmth.
    "Are the preparations complete?" asked Nysander.
    "I've brought extra branches, just to be certain."
    Looking down at Seregil again, the young wizard shook his head. "It seems we'll need them."
    With Thero's terse assistance, Alec pulled off Seregil's filthy tunic and cut away the linen bands covering the dressing. Thero, who'd handled the tunic as if it were smeared with excrement, took a step back, making a quick warding sign as he did so.
    "What is it?" Alec exclaimed in growing alarm.
    "Nysander, please! Why do people keep doing that?"
    "You and Seregil have been in contact with a telesm of the most dangerous sort," the wizard replied calmly, bending to scrutinize the wound. "You are both tainted with a miasmal effluence most offensive to any with thaumaturgic powers."
    Glancing up, Nysander saw Alec's blank look and gave the boy an apologetic smile. "Forgive me. What I mean is that you two have been in contact with a cursed object of some sort and, while only the physical effects are apparent to the ordinary observer, to a wizard you both smell like you just crawled out of a cesspit."
    "I should say so!" Thero concurred wholeheartedly.
    Kneeling beside Seregil, Nysander drew a small silver knife from his belt and gently pressed the flat of the blade here and there against the seeping flesh, his unruly eyebrows drawing together as he noted the round mark left by the wooden disk. Setting the blade aside, he sat back on his heels, frowning.
    "It is time I saw the cause of all this."
    Alec opened Seregil's pack and pulled out the old tunic. He hadn't touched the bundle since the night of the strange attack.
    "Place it there, in the center of the small table,"
    Nysander instructed. "We must work with extreme care. Are you ready, Thero?"
    Unrolling the tunic, he lifted the disk out with a long pair of silver tongs. "Just as I feared," he muttered. "Thero, the jar."
    His assistant placed a small crystal jar on the table and Nysander dropped the disk into it.
    There was a brief flash of light as he set the lid in place and the jar sealed seamlessly shut.
    "That much is done, at least," Nysander said, dropping the jar unceremoniously into his pocket.
    "Now we must see to the purification. We shall begin with you, Alec, for we will need your assistance with Seregil. Come now, there is no need to look so apprehensive!"
    Thero positioned the chair at the center of the room and motioned for Alec to sit. Gripping the