Stalking Darkness

continued.
    The color fled from the young wizard’s thin cheeks as he sank to his knees before her. “I can’t go back to the Orëska, not after what happened that night. The attack, the Plenimarans getting in, it was my fault. If I hadn’t told Ylinestra about Nysander’s walks, his studies—Looking back now, I see what all her questions were leading to, but at the time—I just didn’t know! But the Council would never allow me back.”
    Magyana laid a hand on his bowed head. “You forget that I, too, am a member of the High Council, as was Nysander. He spoke with them one last time before he left. There is no impediment to your return. His last words to me on the matter were that he hoped I would see to it that you completed what you have begun so well.”
    Cupping his chin, she gently raised his anguished face. “I would be honored if you would accept me as your teacher, Thero. In truth, it would be a great comfort to have you with me, and to see the education of my friend’s last pupil completed. It would be the greatest honor to his memory.”
    Thero rose and bowed. “I’m yours to command.”
    Magyana smiled gently. “You will learn that, like Nysander, I seldom command anything. I hope the rest of you will accept my hospitality tonight?”
    “I thank you, Magyana, but I don’t think—” Seregil broke off, unable to meet her gaze.
    “I understand.” She touched his cheek. “Later then. Tell me where you plan to stay and I’ll send word for Valerius to see Micum.”
    “Wheel Street tonight, then out to Watermead.”
    “I will see that he comes to you at once.
Aura Elustri málreis, Seregil talí.”
    Clasping hands with Alec, she bid him farewell, then bent over Micum. “Shall I send word to Kari?”
    Micum took her hand with a meaningful look and said softly, “Maybe we’d better wait until Valerius has had a look at me, eh?”
    Magyana pressed his hand. “Very well. May Dalna speed health to you, Micum, and peaceful hearts to you all.” With Theroat her side, she walked away through the dockside throng to a waiting carriage.
    “If you’ve no further need of the ship, the men are anxious to put out again,” said Rhal, coming over to take his leave of them. “We’ve made two crossings with an empty hold and there are enemy ships to be plucked.”
    “The ship is yours to command, Captain,” Seregil told him. “And the luck of Astellus go with you. I expect the
Green Lady
will be the scourge of both seas.”
    Moving Micum into a hired cart, Alec and Seregil set off for Wheel Street. The house was just as they’d left it. Evidently Mardus had been well apprised enough of their movements not to waste time on unnecessary destruction.
    Old Runcer greeted them with his usual lack of surprise, as if they’d been gone for a day or two instead of months. Seregil’s white hounds, Zir and Mârag, showed equal equanimity toward their master, padding softly on ahead as Seregil and Alec helped Micum up the stairs to Seregil’s chamber.
    Valerius arrived soon after, dour as ever, but subdued. His scowl deepened as he inspected Micum’s wound.
    “You’re lucky to be here,” he exclaimed, wrinkling his nose. “Who’s been looking after you?”
    “Thero, mostly,” Alec told him. “He was there when the dyrmagnos attacked him, and he tended him all the way home.”
    “He may have saved your leg, Micum. He certainly saved your life. There’s still a great deal of healing to be done, though.” He turned to Seregil and Alec. “Runcer can help me. I suggest you both go out for a while.”
    “I’m not leaving,” Seregil protested with a flash of his old fire.
    “You heard him, Seregil. You’d just be in the way. Get out,” Micum said from the bed, making a passable job of sounding cheerful. “Come see me in the morning.”
    “Come on,” said Alec, taking him by the arm. “I could do with a walk after all that time at sea.”
    Valerius closed the door firmly behind them. Seregil glared at it for a moment, tight-lipped and grim, then followed Alec downstairs without another word.
    Seregil hadn’t worn a sword since the day of Nysander’s death, but Alec hastily buckled on his own as they headed out into the cool spring evening. Lithion had passed into Nythin since he’d been gone and flowering trees scented the air.
    They both still wore their rough traveling clothes and, with his sword swinging against his leg with no cloak to cover it, Alec worried fleetingly that the