Shadows Return

out and pressed it to Thero’s burn. As soon as it touched him, the wizard felt a wonderful coolness. The magical flower disappeared like mist against his skin, leaving that same sweet fragrance on the air. The burn was completely healed, except for a bit of shiny skin where it had been. Thero inspected it closely. “Amazing. And Seregil claims he brought Alec back from the dead with his tears.”
    “Do you believe him?”
    Thero gazed at the rhekaro, watching the nimbus of light around it shift and swirl. “Yes, I do.”
    Micum lifted the rhekaro into his lap and wrapped a clean bit of rag around its cut finger. “Thank you, little one, whatever you are, for helping my friends.”
    Sebrahn gazed up into Micum’s face for a moment, then curled up against his broad chest and closed its silver eyes. Micum cradled it gently, stroking its long hair as if it was one of his own children.
    Thero stared into the fire for a long time, absently rubbing a thumb over the healed burn.
             
    Micum and Thero kept watch by turns over the next two days and watched their friends grow stronger faster than they had any business doing. Alec fed the rhekaro several times a day, and now and then it would insist on making another of its flowers for him or Seregil.
    During that time Micum had the story from both of them, and more than once, trying to piece together the series of events.
    “So because you’ve got the northern ’faie blood in you, you were the only one this alchemist could use to make these rhekaro things?” asked Micum.
    “That’s what Yhakobin said,” Alec replied, huddled in his blankets by the fire wtih Seregil.
    “Ilar told me the same,” Seregil told them.
    “And what about him? It sounds like he had a hand in all this, too, but I’ve never heard you speak of anyone by that name before.”
    “I don’t speak of him,” Seregil muttered, looking away.
    Alec caught Micum’s eye and shook his head slightly.
    Now that they were stronger and alert, Thero told them what they’d learned in Virésse of Ulan í Sathil’s role in their kidnapping.
    “Not Phoria?” asked Seregil, looking more disappointed than surprised.
    “So it would seem.”
    “Well, I don’t suppose he has any great love for me, considering. And he knows that since I’ve been cut off from my own people, they have no standing to take revenge against him for it. How much did you tell my sister, Thero?”
    “Only that you and Alec have been found, and that you’re safe.”
    Seregil glanced around the gully and gave him a wry look. “I don’t call this safe. Yhakobin is an important man, and claimed he was making the rhekaros for the Overlord himself. Sooner or later, someone else is going to come looking for us.”
             
    Unfortunately, Seregil was soon proven right.
    Thero was at the edge of the gully the following morning, watching the vultures circle, when he caught the distant jingle of harness and the muffled thud of galloping hooves. He sent out a wizard eye and discovered twoscore or more riders coming from the north, making straight for where they lay hidden. As they came closer, he saw for certain that they were soldiers, and that several men dressed in black were leading them. One of them drew Thero’s attention more than the others; even through the spell he could feel the cold, nasty energy of a necromancer.
    He hurried back to the lean-to and smothered their small cooking fire with a spell.
    “What’s going on?” asked Micum. Seregil crawled to the front of the lean-to, poniard in hand.
    “Soldiers,” Thero told them.
    “How many?”
    “Too many.” Thero drew his wand and reinforced the obscuration spell he’d woven over the gully. To anyone outside it would look like level ground. “We should be safe unless someone accidentally falls down here.”
Or unless their necromancer notices my magic,
he thought, but chose not to worry the others for now. Seregil probably knew, anyway.
    Alec joined Seregil at the mouth of the tent, one arm around Sebrahn, the other hand grasping his black dagger.
    “Neither of you is strong enough to fight yet,” Micum warned.
    “We’re not going to just sit here and let them take us,” Seregil replied. His eyes and Alec’s were haunted and dark with purpose.
    “No one’s taking you,” Micum promised. “Stay here and save your strength until it’s needed.”
    “Wait!” Alec pushed the rhekaro forward. “Go with them, Sebrahn. Protect my