Shadows Return

stuck his finger down his throat and vomited them up again, but it didn’t do any good. Every time Yhakobin did the flame spell, the color had changed.
    There were no more walks, either, and no more invitations to tea. He was left on his own, anxious and frustrated. When they finally dragged him back into the cellar, he fought harder than ever but of course, it was no use.
             
    Thankfully, Yhakobin drugged him again, and when he woke a few days later, weak and sore and sick, Khenir was there to comfort him.
    He held a cup against Alec’s lips. Alec tasted water, took it, and drank in slow, careful sips, not wanting to lose a precious drop.
    As he watched, Ahmol helped Yhakobin dig up the new rhekaro and place it on a cloth. It stayed curled up, helpless as a newborn babe. The hair and skin looked white through the filth, just like the last one, but this one was a little bigger. And just like the last one, it had no wings. Alec was almost sorry; he’d wondered if they were like a bird’s, with feathers, or just skin, like those of a bat or the tiny dragons he’d seen in Aurënen.
    Yhakobin gave a terse order and Ahmol brought him the silver tincture cup. The alchemist gently pried one of the rhekaro’s hands from its chest and pricked one small fingertip. Something oozed out, but it didn’t look like blood. Instead, it was almost clear, like water or new sap. Alec thought of the wounds on the previous rhekaro. For all that they looked nearly human, they had no more blood than an oak tree.
    Yhakobin caught the drop in the cup and peered in. Whatever he saw pleased him, judging by the smile that broke across his face. Khenir said something hushed and excited. The alchemist clapped him on the shoulder, then wrapped the rhekaro in the cloth and carried it over to Alec, still huddled in his corner.
    “You know what is required,” Yhakobin said quietly, unable to take his eyes from his new creature.
    Alec held out his hand—the left this time, since the fingers of his right hand were all sore and scabbed—and let the alchemist prick him and place the bleeding finger to the rhekaro’s lips.
    Like a questing infant, it made a few false tries, then found the finger and sucked hard.
    Alec nearly pulled away from that hunger. It felt like the thing was sucking the life from his body. His arm went numb to the shoulder.
    “Steady,” Yhakobin warned, clamping a hand on Alec’s elbow to keep him in place. “This one is stronger than the last—a good sign.”
    The rhekaro took one last pull, then opened its eyes and looked up at Alec. This one’s eyes were not dark blue, but a silvery grey, hardly darker than the whites around them. Like the last one, though, it wore his own younger face, but with a stronger ’faie cast to it. Alec touched its moist, cool cheek and thought again of salamanders. It gazed up at him placidly.
    Yhakobin chuckled. “Even you are moved by it, aren’t you?”
    “Please, Ilban, don’t hurt this one.”
    “You really are far too sentimental. I’ve told you before, it’s not a person. And you have nothing to fear, for now. It has passed the first test.”
    Alec looked over at Ahmol, who still held the cup. Something dark was floating in it, but the slave turned and carried it upstairs before Alec could tell what it was.
    The rhekaro’s cool eyes were still fixed on Alec, and he looked in vain for some sign of intelligence there. All the same, he couldn’t bear the thought of that little body being ravaged and tormented.
    A child of no woman.
    His child. Looking into this rhekaro’s face, remembering the screams of the other as it had been torn to pieces, his chest ached with sorrow and guilt. He thought of his picks, still safely hidden in his mattress.
    It was time.
    Khenir helped him down to his room, where supper had been laid out. The tub had been made ready for him, too. After hanging in that cage, Alec was almost glad to come back here to such simple comforts.
    Neither spoke as the slave gently cleaned and dressed him. Alec was too tense to enjoy it, straining to listen for any sound of pain from above. But none came.
    “Something different happened this time?” he asked, sinking gratefully into bed and starting on the cold meat and cheese laid out for him.
    “I do hope so, for your sake. Perhaps he’ll leave you alone if it is what he wants it to be.”
    “Maybe.” Alec took another bite of the meat. “What was in the cup?”
    The other man didn’t