White Road

more of them back in the hills,” said Micum. “I’ve been thinking. It would make your journey home a good deal shorter if you sailed with us. It’s no time at all to cross to Nanta from here, and you can make your way back up the river from there. What do you say, Rhal?”
    The captain looked over what was left of the Ebrados. “As long as they leave Lord Alec alone, I’ve no reason to deny them. What say you, Lord Seregil?”
    “I think it’s a good idea.”
    Rhal offered his hand to Rieser. “Will you clasp hands on it, sir?”
    Rieser took it with a weary nod. “You have my thanks.”
    Seregil exchanged a secret grin with Micum. Rieser’s opinion of Tírfaie seemed to have softened just a bit.

CHAPTER 35
Farewell
    T HE VOYAGE to Nanta took three days—three all-too-short days for Alec. He spent most of his time tending Sebrahn, and had him in the bed with them every night. Seregil made no complaint, but let him know with a silent nod that first night that he understood. They’d soon be saying farewell.
    Alec grieved in silence; his decision back on the island seemed harder now that he was so close to losing the little rhekaro. Sebrahn wasn’t strong enough to walk yet, and Seregil kept the Hâzad away.
    They reached Nanta in the morning, and the time to part forever came at last. Alec said his good-byes to Sebrahn in the privacy of their cabin, with only Seregil there to see.
    Seated on the bed with the rhekaro on his lap, he stroked that pale hair for the last time and whispered, “This time it’s you leaving me.”
    Sebrahn touched Alec’s cheek. “Leeeeving.”
    “That’s right. But you’ll be with Hâzadriën, and other rhekaros. You’re happy with him, aren’t you?”
    “Haaaaa-zen.”
    “I’m sorry.” Alec was fighting back tears now. “I wish—I wish things were different but—I want you to be safe and—” Overcome, he hugged Sebrahn close, wondering what Rieser would do if he refused to give him up.
    Seregil sat down and put an arm around him. “It’s time, Alec,” he said gently. “Do you want me to do it? Rieser’s just outside.”
    Alec wiped the tears from his cheeks. “No. I will.” Rising, he carried Sebrahn across the room, committing the feel of those cool little arms around his neck to memory.
    Hâzadriën and Rieser sat on the stairs outside, but rose when he came out.
    “You’re ready?” asked Rieser.
    “Yes.” It took all of Alec’s will to place Sebrahn in the tall rhekaro’s arms. “Take—take care of him for me. He trusts you.”
    “I’ll see that they remain together,” Rieser promised.
    And then there was nothing left to say. Unable to watch them climb the stairs, Alec turned and walked back into the cabin. Head down, he mumbled, “I need to be alone.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes. Just for a while.”
    “All right then.” Seregil paused and embraced him, and Alec knew how important it was for him not to pull away. Instead he hugged him back gratefully, then found he couldn’t let go.
    Seregil stroked his hair. “I know, talí. I know. It’s all right.”
    “No, it’s not!” He already felt the burning ache of loss in his chest. His “child of no mother” could not be his. Not if he wanted the life he had. Seregil’s arms tightened around him; he knew loss, too. Somehow, that helped.
    From Nanta, Rhal set sail for the Cirna Canal, and the little port of Ardenlee nearby. Seregil spent the first day in the cabin with Alec, and Micum let them be. When Alec appeared at supper the following night, his eyes were red and he was very quiet. Micum looked over at Seregil, but his friend shook his head. There was nothing anyone could say to Alec right now that would ease his pain.
    Alec was a little better the next day, and by the time they reached Cirna, he seemed nearly himself again, though there’d been no singing or gaming this crossing. Seregil spent a great deal of time poring over the pieces of the stolen books, trying to pierce the code, but with little success. Micum suspected his heart wasn’t really in the task just now. Sebrahn’s absence was palpable between them.
    They arrived at midmorning, guided in by twin columns of smoke from the beacon fires above the Astellus and Sakor columns. It had been a few years since Micum had sailed through the great Canal, which connected the Inner and Osiat seas. As they sat at anchor, waiting for the harbormaster to signal their turn, he stood on the deck with Alec and Seregil,