Luck in the Shadows

him.
    "It will take you anywhere on the grounds you are allowed to go," Nysander explained. "Do remember not to attempt to enter any wizard's chamber unless invited. If you are ready, simply instruct it to proceed."
    "Go on, then," Alec told the cube. Floating across the room, it passed though the polished wood of the door in a decidedly unnatural fashion.
    Behind him, the wizard chuckled again. "Be certain you open the door first."

17 Watcher Business
    Taking Valerius' admonition to heart, Alec saw to it that Seregil drank the prescribed infusions. Still terribly weak, Seregil slept most of the time, rousing just long enough to take a little nourishment before lapsing back again.
    Alec's diligence quickly earned the brusque drysian's respect, and he, in turn, grew comfortable with Valerius' abrasive manner, recognizing the gentle sureness of his healing and liking him for it.
    Nysander provided whatever he needed and visited several times a day. When Alec mentioned the writing lessons with Seregil, the wizard brought writing materials and a simple scroll for him to work on.
    Alec and Nysander were playing nine stones in Seregil's room the second morning after the purification when an old woman in a travel-stained cloak appeared at the door of the sickroom.
    "Magyana!" Nysander exclaimed, rising to embrace her. "You should have sent word. I had no idea you were back."
    "I wanted to surprise you, my dear," she replied, kissing him soundly. "Yet it was I who was surprised. Thero says Seregil has been hurt."
    Going to the bed, she laid her hand on Seregil's brow.
    She must be as old as Nysander, thought Alec. The woman's face was deeply lined and the heavy braid coiled at her neck shone white as moonlit snow.
    She sketched a quick, glowing symbol in the air over the sleeping man and shook her head. "Thank the Light he is safe. Who did this to him, and how?"
    "He ran afoul of Mardus and his necromancers in the northlands," Nysander told her. "Young Alec here brought him to me just in time. Alec, this is Magyana, a fellow wizard and my dear companion from the days of our youth."
    Magyana turned to Alec with a warm smile.
    "Bless you, Alec. Nysander would have been desolate to lose him, as would I."
    Seregil stirred just then, muttering hoarsely as he fought his way out of some panicked dream.
    "There now, Seregil," Nysander said, raising his voice as he bent over him. "Open your eyes, dear boy. You are quite safe. Are you awake at last?"
    Seregil's eyes flew open. Seeing Nysander and the others, he lay back with a sigh of relief. "I keep dreaming I'm back in Mycena."
    Nysander sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand.
    "You are safe now, and whole, thanks to Alec. He has told me of your adventures and you will tell me more when you are stronger. But for now you must rest. You very nearly destroyed yourself this time."
    "I know." Seregil shook his head weakly. "Damn fool that I was, I'd have deserved it, too." He shifted to look up at Alec, a shadow of doubt in his eyes. "You all right? I–I wasn't myself for a while there."
    "I'm fine," Alec assured him, knowing in his heart that he was damned lucky to be able to say that.
    Leaving Seregil to Alec's watchful care, Nysander walked Magyana to her tower at the northern corner of the House.
    "My dear, you were away too long!" he remonstrated gently, slipping an arm about her waist and pressing his lips to her cheek again.
    "Surely the lovely Ylinestra kept you occupied in my absence?" she shot back, returning the kiss.
    "You impossible woman! You with your damnable celibacy. All these years I have filled my bed with lesser women and not a single spark of jealousy from you. You speak of them as if they were children, or lapdogs."
    "Have most of them been any more than that to you, you old rogue? But perhaps I do feel just the smallest spark, as you call it, toward this sorceress. I understand that she is as talented in the casting room as she is in the bedchamber. There, are you satisfied?"
    "Perhaps just a bit," Nysander replied, affecting a sulk. "The girl does have a head for magic, but in truth she is beginning to weary me with her demands, in bed and out."
    "Ah, the trials of the hot-blooded." Magyana let him into her tower rooms. "You know you shall not have a jot of sympathy from me. But now to Seregil. You still have not told me how he came to be in such a state. It took more than ordinary magic to leave such marks on him."
    Pausing in the center of the