Stalking Darkness

all afternoon.”
    “Oh, I was not,” snapped his wife. “Turn around, girl. Let me see all of you!”
    “Thero was otherwise engaged, I see,” Seregil remarked with a sly glance at Nysander.
    “Ah, hello, Valerius,” said Nysander, escorting Magyana over to them again. “You acquitted yourself bravely in the sanctuary this evening. Were the ravens saying anything intelligible?”
    “We were just discussing that,” the drysian replied. “Heavy-handed as the Sakorans are with their ‘oracles,’ they weren’t responsible for the birds, or that business with the Aegis, if I’m any judge.”
    “It was unquestionably magic of some sort,” mused Magyana. “It may be a portent from Sakor, but it bodes ill nonetheless.”
    “It certainly bears looking into,” agreed Nysander, “but justnow I cannot seem to resist the music. Do you think we have a dance or two left in us, my dear?”
    “I think they’ll have to chain your feet together to keep them still when they bury you,” Magyana replied with a twinkle.
    Valerius watched with gruff fondness as the pair danced away. “Ridiculous, that Orëskan celibacy of hers. Those two should have married centuries ago.” Then something else appeared to catch his eye and a wry grin spread in the depths of his black beard. “Now
there’s
someone I didn’t expect to see here tonight. And just look who he’s with!”
    “Ylinestra ä Maranial Wisthra Ylinena Erind, Sorceress of Erind,” announced Runcer. “And Thero í Procepios Bynardin Chylnir Rhíminee, Wizard of the Second Order, of the Third Orëska.”
    “Well, well!” murmured Seregil.
    Thero did look uncharacteristically sanguine, standing at the head of the chamber with Ylinestra on his arm. The sorceress’ silk gown glittered with jeweled beading and the bodice, fashionable in the extreme, showed pink half-crescent hints of nipple beneath the heavy necklace of pearl and jet she wore over her bared breasts. Her ebony hair was caught back in a similar jeweled web, exposing a graceful white neck.
    Seregil propelled Alec forward with a gentle nudge. “Come on, Sir Alec. Let’s greet our illustrious guests.”
    “Welcome to my home, lady,” he said, stepping up to kiss her hand.
    “Thank you, Lord Seregil,” she replied with a cool nod. “And this must be your new companion I’ve been hearing so much about?”
    “Alec of Ivywell,” Alec told her, wondering with sudden discomfort whether she recalled their first brief, tempestuous meeting soon after his arrival at the Orëska House. If she did, however, she gave no sign of it. Extending her hand, she enveloped him with a heart-stopping smile. “Ah, a Mycenian. How delightful.”
    She clearly meant for him to kiss her hand and he bent dutifully over it. A faint perfume rose in his nostrils, subtle yet strangely compelling. Her hand, so warm and soft, lingered in his, and as he raised his head, his eyes swept across her breasts to her lovely violet eyes with a studied enjoyment he wouldn’t have imagined himself capable of. Still she held him, and her low-pitched voice sent an unfamiliar tingle through his body when she spoke.
    “Nysander speaks so warmly of you. I hope that we may know one another better.”
    “I’m honored, lady,” Alec replied, his voice sounding distant in his ears. She withdrew her hand at last and the world returned to normal.
    “Good evening,” Thero said stiffly, looking somewhat less than pleased to be there.
    “Forgive Thero’s bad grace,” Ylinestra murmured, once more wrapping Alec in the warm embrace of her eyes. “He is here only as a favor to me, I fear, and is being quite sulky. Come, Thero, perhaps wine will improve your disposition.”
    As he escorted her into the throng, the actor Pelion stepped into their path with an elaborate bow, which Thero evaded with a curt and proprietary nod. Pelion fell back a pace, then followed Ylinestra with lovesick eyes.
    “Ah, so that’s the actor’s hopeless love,” Seregil noted with a smirk. “He’s certainly got some competition tonight. And if Thero gets any stiffer, he’s likely to fall over and break.”
    “She was kind of abrupt with you, I thought,” observed Alec.
    “Well, I’m not exactly her type. Evidently you are.”
    Alec colored warmly. Her perfume still clung to his fingers. “I only greeted her.”
    The musicians struck up a reel and he turned to watch the dancers. Micum swirled by with Kari, laughing and smiling; Nysander and Magyana