Shadows Return

understood them to be benign, like wizards, but what he’d seen in that cellar spoke of darker workings. He hoped Ilar and his master would speak more of Alec and whatever this rhekaros thing was, but it seemed they were done with him for now. The alchemist looked down at him for a moment with something like pity in his dark eyes. Seregil marked him for death, too.
    “In the meantime, I think I will try a few experiments of my own with this.” He set the bowl aside and covered it with a white cloth.
    “Of course, Master. He is yours, to do with as you please.”
    For now,
thought Seregil, sensing something other than abject respect in Ilar’s voice again. Perhaps the deal between them wasn’t such a sure thing, after all.
    “If I may, Master, might I have some more of the rosefish elixir? It’s a very great help in handling him.”
    The alchemist took a small flask from a shelf and handed it to Ilar. “Mind you don’t use too much on him. Only in small doses is it safe. I do hope you will remember what you have learned here in my house. In the end it is only kindness that wins them over—though a firm hand is necessary, as well.”
    Ilar bowed deeply. “In you, I have had the best of teachers, Master.”
    “Perhaps. But remember, too, that some can never be broken, and sadly, they must be put down to preserve the public safety. The penalties for harboring a dangerous slave are severe, and more so for freedmen.”
    “I will be careful, Master. Thank you for your concern. Martis, Kheron, bring him back to his chamber. I will be there in a moment.”
    Seregil’s keepers had names, now, though he had no idea who was who.
    The elixir was wearing off. He had strength enough now to twist in their grip, looking for Ilar, who was following close behind. “What is he doing to Alec?” Seregil wanted to ask what a rhekaro was, but that would tip his hand.
    “A great work. He is creating something beautiful and useful from that half-breed of yours. You should be proud.”
    “Liar!”
    Ilar smiled. “Not this time, dear Haba.”
    They carried Seregil back to his cell under the house and deposited him on the pile of quilts.
    Ilar had them unhook the chain from Seregil’s collar, then hold his head steady as Ilar forced a few drops of the elixir between Seregil’s clenched teeth. “Come now, it will be so much easier for you, this way.”
    “It” was probably going to involve the horseman’s crop Ilar was holding under one arm, Seregil decided with a certain weary resignation.
    The numbness spread through him, different than what he’d felt earlier. He couldn’t move, but unfortunately, he could still feel perfectly well as Ilar drew his head into his lap and stroked the hair back from Seregil’s eyes. “I must admit, I had begun to have thoughts of taming you nicely, as my master suggested. When you were asleep all those days, I was taken in by that face of yours, just as before. But you’ve shown your true colors again, haven’t you? I should thank you for bringing me back to my senses.”
    “’r welcome,” Seregil whispered, trying to summon a decent sneer. His lips wouldn’t cooperate.
    Ilar laughed. “Do you know what I dreamed of, through all these years of shame? I hoped that one day you would suffer as I have suffered, and, my dear Haba, that day has come.” He smiled and stroked Seregil’s cheek again. “You’re lucky I don’t want to mark that fine skin of yours any more than it already has been.”
    Seregil could not fight back when the men turned him over, and his screams were weak and hoarse as Ilar beat the soles of his feet with the crop. It went on for some time, until the pain cut through the effect of the drug and he finally managed to struggle a little, trying to escape the torture.
    Ilar relented and tossed the crop to one of his men. “That’s enough to start. Know, my dear Seregil, that I’ve endured far worse. And so shall you, before I’m done.”
    Seregil was feeling remarkably clearheaded now, and full of the strange elation that comes when pain ceases. “You want fear from me, or sympathy?” he slurred thickly. “Go fuck a dog.”
    Ilar kicked him onto his back and rested a slipper-clad foot heavily on Seregil’s chest, making it hard to breathe. “Fucking is something else they took from me, Haba, long before I came to this house. Will your friend still want you when you’ve been gelded, I wonder? What will you have to offer him then?”
    With that he