Stalking Darkness

to be asleep, sprawled on his back among the disheveled blankets with a blissful smile on his face. In contrast, Ylinestra’s face was a hard mask of concentration as she wove an unfamiliar sigil in the air above him. As it took form, the peaceful expression drained from Alec’s face. At first he simply looked blank, then his brow furrowed as he unconsciously turned his face away, a low sound of protest rattling in his throat. The sorceressleaned closer, enlarging the glowing symbol, then struck him sharply on the cheek in frustration.
    “That will be quite enough, Ylinestra!”
    She whirled in surprise. The sigil snapped out of existence.
    “Nysander? How dare you spy into my chamber!” she hissed, eyes wide with outrage at his disembodied intrusion. “You have no right!”
    “More right than you, to work magic on an unwilling subject,” Nysander retorted sternly. “Send him back at once or I shall fetch him myself.”
    “Such a fuss,” she purred, stroking a hand down Alec’s belly, knowing he would see. “I assure you, I did him no harm.”
    “That remains to be seen.”
    A moment later Nysander felt a ripple of magic from upstairs. When had she mastered the translocation spell?
    With Seregil and Magyana close behind, he went up and found Alec deeply asleep in his own chamber. Satisfied that the boy was unharmed, he placed a protective ward over the bed to curtail any further mischief and quietly closed the door.
    “Well, I suspect I won’t be teasing him about his virginity anymore,” Seregil said, sounding a bit wistful. “He certainly fell in to the spirit of the evening in a hurry.”
    “I doubt it was entirely his own doing,” Magyana said, wrinkling her nose in prim distaste. “If it turns out he was coerced, I want to know about it. There’s no place for that sort of behavior in the Orëska.”
    “Certainly not,” Nysander said, thinking more of the mysterious sigil she’d been using. “Still, if it was his choice to go off with her, we must not make a fuss. He is old enough to decide that sort of thing for himself.”
    Seregil let out an abrupt laugh. “I suppose he is, really. But it may cause a bit of a chill between him and Thero.”

8
S AKOR’S D AY
    T he roar of festival gongs woke Alec at dawn. Blinking, he gazed up in groggy confusion at the bed hangings, a pomegranate pattern worked with scarlet and gold.
    He’d gone to sleep beneath layers of colored silk lit by candle glow. Ylinestra had been looking down at him, her eyes vague with pleasure. A delicious ache ran through him at the memory, but with it came a twinge of anxiety that he couldn’t immediately explain.
    Stretching himself fully awake, he sat up to find Seregil dozing in an armchair beside the bed. He was still wearing last night’s breeches and shirt. Slouched to one side, arms crossed tightly across his chest, he looked profoundly uncomfortable.
    Alec shook him gently by the elbow and he jerked awake, rubbing painfully at his neck.
    “How’d I get here?” Alec asked.
    “She sent you back, I guess.” The beginnings of a dangerous grin played at the corners of his mouth. “Ylinestra, eh? And after all Valerius’ warnings. Enjoy yourself?”
    “Oh—yes. I mean, I did, I guess—”
    “You
guess!”
    Alec fell back against the pillows with agroan. “It’s just that, well—I think she used some magic. At first, anyway.”
    “So that’s what it takes.” Chuckling, Seregil leaned forward and touched a finger to Alec’s cheek. “And the kind that leaves marks, too. You all right?”
    Alec brushed his hand away, feeling more awkward than ever. “Yes, of course I’m all right. It was great. Just sort of—strange.” He hesitated. “Do you dream? Afterward, I mean?”
    “I usually talk. Why, did you?”
    “Yes. I remember thinking that I was falling asleep but not wanting to. And then I saw the spinning dagger.”
    Seregil raised a questioning eyebrow. “The what?”
    “The spinning dagger that Nysander used when I swore the Watcher’s oath. It was right in front of my face, just like before, and I was afraid to say anything for fear it would cut me. I could hear Nysander’s voice, too, but like it was coming from far away. I couldn’t understand what he was saying. There was something else, too.” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to seize the elusive fragment. “Something about an arrow.”
    Seregil shook his head. “You’re whisked away and made love to by the most exotic