White Road

Ilar’s ear that it sent a shiver through him. “Get rid of him!” The arm fell away and a hand pressed firmly between Ilar’s shoulder blades.
    Quaking with fear, Ilar emerged from the alcove, careful not to leave any gap in the curtains.
    “What are
you
doing in here?” Tariel asked in surprise.
    “I—I was just—” He took a shaky breath. “I fell asleep while I was reading. I must have cried out in a dream.”
    The man raised an eyebrow. “Reading with no lamp?”
    “I was sleepy, so I lay down in the alcove … It must have gone out.”
    Tariel shook his head. “You should go back to your room before you take a chill.”
    “I’m not tired, and I want to read some more,” Ilar told him, gathering a little courage now that his ruse had worked.
    “Suit yourself, then,” the man said, sheathing his sword. “But see you don’t rouse the house with your dreams.”
    As soon as he was gone, Seregil pulled him back into the alcove and put his lips to Ilar’s ear again. “You did well. How did you know that I was coming?”
    Ilar nearly blurted out the truth, but suddenly he didn’t want to confirm what Seregil had no doubt already discerned for himself. Torn between his loyalty to the khirnari who’d saved him and the man he dreamed of every night, he couldn’t get any words out at all.
    But Seregil read his silence. “That was Ulan’s footpad the other day, wasn’t it? So the khirnari guessed I was coming at some point, and put you here to watch for me. But why you?”
    “No one else knows about them,” Ilar told him. “The books.”
    “So he’s protecting his dirty little secret. It wouldn’t do for his people to learn of things like rhekaros, and how they’re made, would it?”
    Ilar shook his head.
    Seregil suddenly reached out in the dark and cupped Ilar’s cheek with one hand—as close to a tender gesture as Ilar had had from him since they’d met again in Yhakobin’s house. “But you saved me instead—again,” he said gently. “Tell me where the books are, and we’ll go.”
    Ilar’s heart leapt. “They’re in the khirnari’s room.”
    “Bilairy’s Balls!” Seregil muttered, taking his hand away. “Of course they are.”
    Ilar caught it and pressed it back to his cheek. “I won’t run away this time. I won’t be any trouble!”
    “All right, but you have to tell me where in his room.”
    Ilar’s heart swelled with hope. “Locked behind a hidden panel in the casework at the head of the bed. I can show you!”
    Seregil was glad the darkness hid his pitying smile as he placed his left hand on Ilar’s shoulder. “Thank you. I won’t forget this. And I’m sorry.”
    “Sorry? For—”
    Seregil struck him a controlled blow to the chin, then caught him as Ilar went limp and held him a moment, shocked at how thin the man was, and how pathetic; nothing like the vindictive creature who’d tormented Seregil in the alchemist’s house. He felt nothing for Ilar now except pity, and perhaps a touch of guilt for playing him so dirty this time—especially after he’d kept Seregil secret from the guard just now.
    The second time you’ve risked yourself to help me, damn it! What in Bilairy’s name do you want from me?
    Forgive me!
Ilar’s voice whispered in his mind.
    Standing there in the darkness, Seregil weighed all the help Ilar had been—tonight and when they’d escaped from Yhakobin’s house—against the sight of Alec hanging facedown in the alchemist’s cage. By Ilar’s own admission, he’d put Alec there.
    “Forgive?” Seregil whispered. “No.”
    Placing the unconscious man on the divan at the back of the alcove, he quickly bound him with the drapery cords and gagged him with a clean handkerchief he found in Ilar’s sleeve. Seregil left him there with the heavy draperies drawn shut and moved silently across to the door. The guard had obligingly left it slightly ajar and he was able to open it just enough to see that the corridor was once again empty. The sounds of a dice game came up the stairway.
    The street wasn’t as deserted as Alec had hoped. A few drunken revelers happened by, but they were too blind with liquor to notice them. Not so with the night watchman whocame by a few minutes later. He said something to Micum, sounding suspicious, but Micum reassured him somehow.
    “Come on, you lazy lot,” he growled at Alec and Rieser. “It’s time we found our inn.”
    They went up the street a little way, giving the watchman time to move