Traitor's Moon

are to us as the Tírfaie, an outlander, subject to the same restrictions and the same rights, but you have no claim of blood or kin among the people of Aura. Go with the Skalans and abide among them.”

56
T ETH’BRIMASH
    I
expected something like this
, Seregil told himself, trying not to sway as Brythir spoke the sentence.
    Why then did that one phrase—ya’shel khi—hurt so? The rhui’auros had called him that already, and he’d accepted it as a revelation. Spoken here, in front of his kin, the words cut like a hot knife. He thought he’d understood, but now the world seemed to be slipping out from under him. Exile he knew, but this severing went deeper.
    â€œGo with the Skalans and abide among them,” the ancient khirnari ordered.
    Seregil’s knees ached, but he managed to get to his feet without staggering. Pulling the Aurënfaie tunic over his head, he dropped it on the floor at his feet. “I accept the decision of the Iia’sidra, Honored One.” His voice seemed to be coming from somewhere far outside himself. He was dimly aware of someone weeping—several people, in fact. He hoped he wasn’t one of them.
    He could barely feel his feet against the floor as he went to join the Skalans. Hands guided him to a chair and then Alec was beside him, wrapping a cloak around his shoulders.
    The session ended quickly and the room emptied. Seregil pulled the cloak around himand kept his eyes down as he followed Korathan out, not wishing to see the faces of other ’faie just yet. As they neared the door, however, the rhui’auros named Lhial stepped out and clasped him by the left hand. Stroking the dragon mark, he smiled warmly at Seregil. “Well done, little brother. Dance the dance and trust the Light.”
    It took Seregil a moment to recall that Lhial was dead, and by then the fellow was gone. A group of rhui’auros stood near the entrance, but the apparition was not among them. As he searched their faces, each one raised a hand in silent salute.
    Dance the dance?
He closed his eyes a moment, summoning a fragment of something Lhial had tried to tell him the first time he’d visited the Nha’mahat.
Looking at you, I see all your births, all your deaths, all the works the Lightbearer has prepared for you. But time is a dance of many steps and missteps. Those of us who see must sometimes act
.
    I’m a blind man, dancing in the dark
. He thought of the last dream he’d had: the orbs melded into a pattern, and blood coursing down from a succession of weapons. The memory brought with it the same powerful sense of conviction that had overtaken him that night. The power of it straightened his spine and tugged the corner of his mouth up into a little half-smile.
    Passing him, Lhaär ä Iriel saw and gave him a scathing glare.
    â€œDo not mock the mark you bear,” she warned.
    â€œYou have my word, Khirnari,” he promised, pressing his left hand to his heart. “I take what the Lightbearer sends.”
    Adzriel and Mydri clung to Seregil as they followed Klia’s litter back to the guest house. Alec willingly gave place to them but stayed close, watching Seregil with growing concern.
    Seemingly dazed, the man huddled in his borrowed cloak as if it were winter. What little Alec could feel of his friend’s emotions was a whirl of confusion.
    At least it was better than pure despair.
    As soon as they were in the hall, safe from prying eyes, Klia summoned Seregil to her side and whispered to him. She was weeping now, too. Seregil knelt by the litter, bending to hear her. “It’s all right,” he told her.
    â€œHow can you say that?” Mydri demanded. “You heard what Brythir said; there was hope that the exile would have been lifted eventually.”
    Seregil swayed to his feet and headed for the stairs. “Later, Mydri. I’m tired.”
    â€œStay with him,” Thero murmured, but Alec was already on his way.
    They climbed slowly to their room, Alec following a few steps behind. He wanted to reach out and steady Seregil, but something held him back. Reaching their chamber, Seregil shed the last of his clothing and burrowed under the covers. He was asleep almost instantly.
    Alec stood beside the bed for a moment, listening to the soft, even breathing and wondering if it was exhaustion or despair he was witnessing. Whichever it was, sleep was probably as good a cure as any.