Stalking Darkness

followed close behind. One of the poets had somehow captured Elsbet and she blushed happily as he swept her along. Across the room, Ylinestra was chatting with the actor while Thero hovered close at hand with badly concealed impatience.
    “What’s she doing with Thero?” Alec wondered aloud.
    “Judging by the look of him, nothing he’d want Nysander to know about,” Valerius remarked.
    “Nysander knows,” said Seregil. “I think he was getting bored with her, anyway, but I still say it was bad manners for her to grab Thero next.”
    “I doubt if she was the only one doing the grabbing,” scoffed Valerius. “If he wants to stick his head in the dragon’s mouth, let him. Just see that young Alec here keeps a safe distance.”
    “I just
greeted
her, for—” Alec sputtered, but was interrupted by Myrhini and Beka.
    “I’m off for the Vigil,” said Myrhini. “Hope to see you all at the investiture tomorrow.”
    As soon as the captain was gone, Beka turned to Alec with a knowing grin. “Ylinestra’s very beautiful, wouldn’t you say?”
    Alec groaned. “What was I supposed to do, knock her down?”
    “For a minute there I thought you were going to.”
    “Well, I’m sure I’m no danger to her, when she can obviously have her pick of any man in Rhíminee,” he countered. “What about you, though? Can you dance in uniform?”
    Beka looked down at her tabard and boots. “I think we can manage.”
    They made a passable business of the reel and went on dancing when the next song began. In truth, Beka was in such high spirits over her commission that Alec thought she could probably fly if the notion struck her. They soon caught each other’s rhythm and went on dancing with scarcely a break until Micum cut in to say that Kari and the younger girls were retiring for the night.
    “I didn’t realize how late it had gotten,” Beka said, letting go of Alec’s hand with evident regret. “I’ll go up and visit with Mother a while before I head back to the barracks. I’ve got to be up early for the ceremony.”
    Giving Alec a quick peck on the cheek, she added, “You and Seregil are coming, aren’t you? There’ll be hundreds of us, of course, so you probably won’t even see me.”
    “With that hair?” Alec teased, tugging at the end of her coppery braid. “You’ll stick out like a drunkard’s nose!”
    “I’ll remember that remark the next time we work on your swordplay,” Beka warned with a dire grin. “Until tomorrow, then.”
    Left to his own devices again, he looked for Seregil and spotted him on the far side of the crowded floor. No sooner had he worked his way through the crowd, however, when Seregil was waylaid by a noble complaining at length about some shipping venture he and Seregil were involved with. Alec listened politely for a time, but his attention soon wandered.
    Looking around, he realized that the number of guests was dwindling. Off for more “games in the dark,” as Kylith had teased. Nysander and Magyana were still there, moving with stately grace through the circle of a galliard. Thero was dancing as well, but not with Ylinestra.
    “Where’s she gotten to?” Alec wondered, looking around again.
    In the garden
.
    The soft, caressing whisper came at his very ear, for him alone to hear.
    Come into the garden
.
    There was no question this time; it was Ylinestra’s voice.
    The mysterious summons came again, and with it a delicious languor. A couple walked past, lightwands in hand, and he marveled at the rainbow corona surrounding each glowing stone. The whole room, in fact, had taken on a warmer tone. Perhaps Nysander and Magyana were tinkering with their creation? Skirting the dancers, he slipped unnoticed into the dining room and on out into the darkened garden.
    Here. Come to me
.
    The voice guided him to a far corner of the garden screened by a small arbor.
    He heard a faint sigh of silk and Ylinestra’s pale face resolved from the darkness. Her hands found his and lifted them to rest just above her hips. She was slender and supple between his hands and he spread his fingers to better appreciate the sensation of her warmth beneath the cold fabric.
    “My lady, I don’t understand,” he whispered, some small, distant part of him distinctly alarmed at his own actions. He’d never felt like this in his life.
    “What is there to understand, lovely boy?”
    How small she seemed, here in the darkness. Her lips brushed his chin as she spoke, her violet eyes pools