Traitor's Moon
for sheer malice, Lhaär and her lot would be it. Itâs clear they donât regard TÃrfaie as equals. Perhaps they wouldnât count killing one or two as any great crime.â
âAn interesting thought,â said Seregil. âAnd their religious zeal seems to have grown in my absence. Iâve seen that wreak more havoc than magic when it comes to war.â Still, he didnât sound convinced.
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They spent the night in a ruined hut, huddled miserably together under damp blankets as they ate a cold supper of dried venison, cheese, and rainwater. A wind came up soon after sunset, finding its way through every hole and chink of their paltry shelter, stirring the soaked clothing that lined the hutâs one sound wall.
Pressed shoulder to shoulder with Alec, Seregil rested his head on his knees and tried to ignore the fits of shivering that shook him, and the way the slightest movement sucked cold air in around the edges of the blankets. He wasnât dangerously cold, just miserably uncomfortable.
As usual, Alec warmed faster. âCome here,â he said presently, pulling Seregil to sit between his legs, back to Alecâs chest. He rearranged the blankets into a better cocoon around them and wrapped his arms around him. âBetter?â
âA bit.â Seregil jammed his hands under his armpits to warm them.
Alec chuckled next to his ear. âI donât think youâd have survived where I grew up.â
Seregil snorted softly. âI could say the same about you. I had some lean times and harsh lessons, wandering around Skala.â
âThe RhÃminee Cat.â
âI was a lot of things before that. Ever wonder why I was so generous to whores, back when you first met me?â
âNot until just now.â Alecâs voice carried a note of weary resignation.
Seregil stared out a hole in the roof, watching the dark shapes of branches tossing in the wind. âBeing back there, in Sarikaliâitâs likeâI donât know, like being there clouded my mind. Considering the shambles weâve left behind, Iâm not sure how useful Iâve been to Idrilain, or to Klia.â He took a deep breath, fighting down a surge of guilt. âWe should have been able to learn more, do more.â
Alecâs arms tightened around him. âWe would have, but Phoria cocked it up for us. And youâre right about us being the only ones who could get to the coast. Youâre probably right about Emiel.â
âMaybe, but I feel as if Iâve been sleepwalking since we arrived.â
âI believe I pointed that out to you, not so long ago,â Alec noted wryly. âIt wasnât just you, though. Aurënenâs a damn hard place for nightrunners. Too much honor.â
Seregil chuckled. âWhatever happened to that honest Dalnan lad I took up with?â
âLong gone, and good riddance.â Alec shifted his legs to a more comfortable angle. âDo you really think Korathan will listen to you?â
âWould I be here if I didnât?â
âThatâs no answer.â
âIâll have to make him listen.â
They fell silent, and presently Alecâs even breathing told Seregil that heâd fallen asleep. He shifted against Alecâs shoulder, mind still racing.
Perhaps he had needed to get clear of Sarikaliâs powerful aura. The rhuiâaurosâs convoluted words, his own strange dreams, his pathetic efforts to prove himself worthyâwhere had it all gotten him, except deeper into confusion? He was sick to death of the whole business and longed for the dangerous, straightforward life heâd left behind in Skala. Something Adzriel had said to him, when theyâd seen each other so briefly in RhÃminee just before the war, came back to him.
Could you ever be content to sit under the lime trees at home, telling tales to the children, or debating with the elders of the council whether the lintel of the temple should be painted white or silver?
His new sword lay close at hand, and he reached out, running his fingers over the hilt, thinking of how heâd felt, grasping it for the first time. Whatever the rhuiâauros or Nysander or his family or even Alec thought, he was good at one thing, and one thing onlyâbeing a nightrunner. Courtier, wizardâs apprentice, diplomat, honorable clan member, sonâfailed efforts,
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