White Road

Lands. However, that hadn’t stopped clandestine trade, and Akaien had brought his young nephew along. Seregil had told him stories of sailing out under a dark traitor’s moon to meet and trade with Skalan ships. The fondness in his voice made Alec think that this Akaien í Solun must be a very different sort than his brother, Seregil’s father.
    It was then that Seregil had first met Tírfaie foreigners and learned something of the wider world. Seregil also joked that it was this early criminal behavior that had shaped his character.
    “He will approve, talí. Of that I have no doubt,” Seregil assured him. “But my other sisters? Well, I’ll make you no promises there.”
    Sebrahn was as insistent as ever about staying with Alec. Since there was simply no way Alec could remain cooped up in the cabin, it wasn’t long before the crew got a look at what lay under the voluminous cloak and hood. Even Seregil couldn’t come up with a plausible explanation for Sebrahn’s silver eyes, and many warding signs were made in the rhekaro’s direction.
    Alec found himself alone with Adzriel one day as they both stood at the rail, watching porpoises leap along beside the ship. She was still keeping her distance from Sebrahn, he noted.
    “If you’re so scared of Sebrahn, why are you letting him come to Bôkthersa?” he asked at last.
    Adzriel said nothing for a moment. Alec had always marveled at how much she resembled her brother, both in looks and in being tight-lipped as blue mussels when the mood took her. When she spoke at last, her voice was devoid of its usual warmth. “As I said in Gedre, he is our clan’s responsibility. And if you cannot destroy a dangerous beast, then it is best to know where it is.”
    “A beast.” The word hurt.
    “A dragon, but not a dragon. His outward appearance is so deceiving. You know better than I how dangerous he really is.”
    “So you’re going to lock him up somewhere forever? You’ll have to lock me in with him.”
    “No, of course not.” She took his hand between hers. “Little brother, I would not harm you for all the world, or any that you love. It’s my hope to find a way for your little one to somehow find a safe life, harming none and free from harm. Or as free as he can ever be.” She turned Alec’s palm up and looked at the stippling of pinpricks across his fingertips. “Can you spend the rest of your life like this? What sort of nightrunner carries a child about on his back?”
    “I don’t like to think about that, but—”
    “But you and my brother must have your lives back,” she finished for him with a kind smile. “I promise you, I will use all my power and influence to seek out some solution to this. Are you certain he cannot drink the blood of another ’faie? It’s such a tiny little bit that he needs.”
    “Seregil tried, but Sebrahn just spit it out.”
    “Well, then we must discover something else.”
    Late-afternoon shadows stretched across the water to meet them as they sailed into Half Moon Cove. Thick pine forest encircled it and spread to the feet of the distant mountains. Somewhere beyond those mountains, thought Alec, lay the place of Seregil’s birth.
    “So this is where you and your uncle plied your trade, eh?” asked Micum, standing with them at the rail.
    “Yes,” Seregil murmured. “Just like the old days, except it’s daylight.”
    Gazing at the green mountains, the words of Seregil’s haunting song of exile came back to Alec once again, and he began to hum the tune. Seregil gave him a sidelong smile, and then sang it aloud. This time it was a love song, filled with warmth and joy.
    My love is wrapped in a cloak of flowing green

and wears the moon for a crown
.
And all around has chains of flowing silver
.
Her mirrors reflect the sky
.
O, to roam your flowing cloak of green

under the light of the ever-crowning moon
.
Will I ever drink of your chains of flowing silver

and drift once more across your mirrors of the sky?
    When he was done, Alec saw Adzriel and Mydri both dabbing at their eyes.

CHAPTER 6
An Unexpected Guest
    U LAN Í S ATHIL , khirnari of Virésse, was at work in his study when his kinsman Elisir í Makili came in and closed the door softly. He was still in his salt-stained cloak and boots, and his red and blue sen’gai was a bit awry.
    “Ah, you’re back,” Ulan said, laying his pen aside by the crumpled handkerchief on the desk, and extending a hand. “I fear I sent you on a fool’s