Traitor's Moon

to say I’d never make an actor of you.”
    â€œWhat about that?” Alec said, pointing at the ring.
    Glancing down in surprise, Seregil dropped it inside the neck of his coat, then headed for the door.
    â€œIdrilain wouldn’t have given it to you if she didn’t think you were worthy of wearing it,” Alec called after him.
    Seregil gave him a last, thoughtful look and shook his head. “Good hunting, talí. Kheeta’s waiting.”
    Alec lay back, thinking about the ring and wondering whose approval Seregil awaited. The Iia’sidra’s? Adzriel’s? The Haman’s?
    â€œOh, well,” he muttered, rolling out of bed. “At least I’ve got something to do today.”
    He washed with cold water from the pitcher and dressed for riding. He left his sword belt hanging with Seregil’s over the bedpost. Most of the Aurënfaie he’d seen went unarmed except for belt knives. In the event of trouble, he always had the slender dagger in his boot. Their tool rolls were still hidden away for now, as well. According to Seregil, there were few locks in Sarikali, and most of those were magical in nature. That fact aside, it certainly wouldn’t do for erstwhile diplomats to be caught carrying such a fine collection of lock picks.
    Instead, he slung his bow and quiver over his shoulder and headed down in search of breakfast.
    A cook gave him a pocket breakfast and news that Klia and the others had already left for the Iia’sidra. In the stable yard, he found Windrunner saddled next to another Aurënfaie mount.
    â€œFeels like rain today, I’d say,” Rhylin observed, on duty there.
    Alec studied the hazy sky and nodded. The breeze had dropped and the clouds were already darkening ominously. “Have you seen Kheeta?”
    â€œHe went back to his room for something. He asked that you wait here.”
    The sound of voices drew Alec into the stable, where he found one of Mercalle’s dispatch riders and her Akhendi guides trying to argue about liniments in two broken languages.
    â€œHeading north?” he asked Ileah.
    She patted the large pouch slung over her shoulder. “Maybe I can come by a few fancy dragon marks like yours along the way. Any letters you want carried to Rhíminee?”
    â€œNot today. How long do you reckon it takes to get a message back through?”
    â€œLess time than it took us to get here. We’ll push harder over the unguarded sections of the pass, and we’ll have fresh horses all along the way, compliments of our Akhendi friends.”
    â€œGood morning, Alec í Amasa!” said Kheeta, the fringed ends of his green sen’gai flying about his shoulders as he hurried in. “I’m to show you around, I’m told.”
    â€œLet us know if you find any decent taverns in this ghost city,” Ileah implored.
    â€œI wouldn’t mind finding something like that myself,” Alec admitted. “Where do we start, Kheeta?”
    The Bôkthersan grinned. “Why, at the Vhadäsoori, of course.”
    Cloud shadows scudded across their path as they set off along the turf-muted avenue leading back to the center of the city.
    It felt less deserted today. Riders galloped past, and there were people in the streets. Marketplaces had been set up at crossroads, with goods being sold on blankets or out of the backs of carts. Most of the people Alec saw looked like servants and attendants. Clearly, it took a sizable population behind the scenes to maintain the banquets and bathhouses that helped court alliances.
    â€œIt’s difficult to believe a city like this just stands empty most of the time,” Alec remarked.
    â€œNot quite empty,” said Kheeta. “There are the Bash’wai, and the rhui’auros. But as you say, Sarikali belongs mostly to itself and its ghosts. We are merely occasional lodgers, coming here for festivals, or to settle clan disputes on neutral ground.”
    He pointed to a stag’s skull set on a post beside the street. It was painted red, with silvered horns. “See that. It’s a boundary marker for Bôkthersa tupa. And that white hand with the black symbol on the palm painted on the wall across the street marks the tupa of Akhendi.”
    â€œAre people very territorial here?” Given the chances that he’d be nightrunning here sooner or later, it was a good idea to know the local customs.
    â€œIt depends on who is