Traitor's Moon

brown body of an otter, he’d almost wept with disappointment. He’d hoped for something a bit more impressive, a wolf, perhaps, or a great bird of prey like his master, who transformed into an eagle. Looking down at his chinless, whiskered reflection in a glass Nysander had set on the floor, he’d thought himself ridiculous beyond words.
    â€œAn otter?” he’d grunted, appalled at his raspy little voice. “What are they good for, except trimming coats?”
    â€œIntelligent, playful creatures, otters. Users of tools, I believe,” Nysander had remarked, running a hand down Seregil’s supple back. “Sharp teeth, too, and fierce for their size when cornered.”
    â€œIt’s not what I’d have chosen,” Seregil sniffed, still skeptical.
    â€œAnd just what makes you think you get to choose, dear boy?” Nysander had laughed, then made him hump and waddle his way down all those long flights of stairs to one of the Orëska’s garden pools, where he’d rediscovered the sheer joy of water.
    Seregil shook free of the half-doze that had claimed him and sat up. Stealing silently to the door, he listened to the low voices of his guards. The three men outside were distant kinsmen. Kheeta and his sisters had offered to sit with him, but he’d pleaded weariness.
    It hurt a bit, that they believed him and left him to himself.
    He pulled a stool over to the balcony door and settled down to wait, knowing it was still too early.
    Sitting there, he clocked the moon an hour’s span, watching the house next door.
    Alec sat awhile with Beka in the colos, then went alone to his room. Seregil saw him framed against the bright rectangle of hisown doorway and resisted the urge to wave. After a while the light went out there, though he thought he could make out a dark form still on watch, sharing his vigil.
    There was more to being a good burglar than watching the moon. Some inner sense told Seregil when the moment was right, like picking up a scent on the night air, or a certain type of stillness.
    He lifted the bed aside and reached beneath the loose stone tile for the grapple, brushing the doll as he felt about. A tendril of ancient hair tangled around his finger, and he caught a strain of strange, sweet music.
    â€œSaying good-bye, my friends?” he whispered gratefully.
    Tossing the grapple on the bed, he replaced the tile, then stripped to breeches and a dark tunic for the night’s work.
    Next, he placed Thero’s bit of molded wax under the covers and whispered, “Otter.”
    A familiar form took shape under the blankets, and he found himself staring down at his own death mask. He lacked the magic to give the simulacrum the semblance of life, so he made do by turning it onto its side and arranging the limbs in a more natural pose. The feel of the cold, unnatural flesh made his skin crawl. It was like playing with his own corpse.
    Just pray no one comes in to check on me
, he thought as he headed out to the balcony.
    The clink of metal on tile sounded dangerously loud as he set the hook on the edge of the roof. His bitten hand ached as he climbed, but the pain was nothing compared to the mix of fear and exhilaration that claimed him as he gained the roof. He felt like a child again, sneaking out to ride beneath the stars; or the Cat, nightrunning across the best roofs of Rhíminee. Either way, he was himself in a way he hadn’t been for months—years maybe—and it felt damn good.
    His feet remembered the secret way down the disused staircase at the back of the house to a certain landing that overhung the garden wall.
    Alec stepped out of the deep shadows to his right as soon as he dropped to the ground. Without a word they set off together, a double shadow against the darkness.
    â€œThat was quite a performance you gave at the Iia’sidra,” Seregil said when they were outside Bôkthersa tupa. “Well done!”
    Alec let out a derisive snort. “Oh, so you like me sounding like a clinging little rentboy, do you?”
    â€œIs that the effect you were aiming for?”
    â€œBilairy’s Balls, Seregil, you caught me off guard and I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.” Alec hunched his shoulders miserably. “I can hardly look Korathan in the eye.”
    Seregil chuckled. “I doubt it lowered his opinion of you much.”
    Akhendi tupa was quiet tonight. Keeping to side streets,