Luck in the Shadows

you. It must please you to see that legends can be real."
    "It does," Alec told him. "I never imagined centaurs were so big!"
    Laughing, Hwerlu threw back his black mane and pranced in a circle, his broad hoofs shaking the earth beneath their feet. He stopped abruptly, however, and trotted across the clearing.
    "And here is another legend! My lovely Feeya," he proclaimed as another centaur stepped into the circle of trees.
    Feeya was a sorrel, and only a little smaller than Hwerlu. She had the same coarse mane of hair running down her back, but the skin of her human torso was otherwise as smooth as any woman's. A heavy torque like Hwerlu's was her only adornment, but Alec quickly saw that he had no cause for embarrassment for she had no breasts, centaurs suckling their young in the same fashion as horses. Her broad features were not beautiful by common standards but, taken for what she was, she had a beauty of her own.
    Hwerlu gallantly brought his lady to meet Alec. "She does not speak your tongue, but it pleases her to hear it."
    Alec greeted the golden centaur. Smiling, she lifted his chin and spoke to him in her own curious whistling language as she inspected his face with apparent interest.
    Standing behind Alec, Seregil answered her in the centaur tongue. With a toss of her long mane, Feeya nodded to them both and went to admire Klia's new horse.
    "What did she say?" asked Alec.
    "Oh, a greeting like Hwerlu's. I thanked her for you." Seregil sat down at the base of a tree with a contented sigh.
    "Are there a lot of centaurs in Skala?" Alec gazed at the pair of handsome creatures across the clearing.
    "No. They live mainly in the mountains across the Osiat Sea. A few large tribes still roam the high plains there. Magyana brought Hwerlu and Feeya back to Rhнminee with her a few years ago. That's her tower there, to the left of Nysander's."
    "Nysander's friend?"
    "Yes. Magyana's a great traveler. She went to learn more of centaur ways. Hwerlu was curious about her magic, it being so different from his own, so he came back with her. He'll go home when he's satisfied."
    "Are you a wizard, too, then?" Alec asked Hwerlu, who'd returned.
    "I cannot make fire without fuel, or fly through the air like the Orлska wizards. My power lies in my music." Hwerlu indicated the large harp that hung in the branches of a nearby tree.
    "I sing healings, charms, dreams. I think now maybe I should sing a healing for you, Seregil. I still see sickness in your face."
    "I'd be grateful. Your cures don't leave a foul taste in my mouth like those of the drysians. In fact, I think I'll spend the afternoon here. Alec, why don't you get a horse from the stables and go for a ride? It'll do you good."
    "I'd just as soon stay here," Alec objected, having no desire to go wandering around the city by himself.
    "And watch me sleep all day?" Seregil scoffed. "No, I think it's time we got on with your education. Just go around the Ring once, then come back and tell me what you saw."
    "The Ring? I don't even know what that—"
    "I'll show him," offered Myrhini. "I have to get back to the barracks anyway. It's on the way."
    "There now." Seregil blithely ignored Alec's silent appeal. "Already you're consorting with centaurs and wizards and riding about the streets with a captain of the Queen's Horse Guard. Keep your hood well up, though. I'm not ready for either of us to be seen just yet. And be careful! You're not larking about in the woods anymore. Even in daylight, Rhнminee can be a dangerous place. And for Illior's sake, find some gloves! Your hands are in poor enough condition as it is."
    Myrhini pulled a pair of gauntlets from her belt and tossed them to Alec. "Come on, boy, before he finds something else to fuss about."
    Still dubious, Alec followed her to the stables behind the main building where a groom saddled a spirited horse for him.
    Leaving the shelter of the magical gardens for the first time since his arrival in the city, Alec was pleased to feel the cold, sweet winter breeze against his face again.
    Golden Helm Street was lined on either side with high garden walls. Craning his neck, Alec caught glimpses of statues, carved pediments, and the tops of columns decorating houses more imposing than any temple he'd seen in the north. After several blocks, the street opened out into one of the paved circles he'd noted during his first ride through Rhнminee with Nysander. Here they turned down a side line.
    "What are these for?" he asked,