White Road

see if it helps people accept Sebrahn more easily.”
    The feast was laid out, and Seregil found himself in his old place at table with his sisters and Akaien. Sebrahn knelt on a cushion on the chair between him and Alec and paid no attention to the courses as they came.
    But Seregil did, recognizing many childhood favorites. There was spiced pear cider; venison roast with wine sauce; and a huge galantine pie thick with lamb, chukka, currants, and bog berries. There were beets with marrow, toasted hazelnuts, chestnut pudding, and turnips mashed with carrots, all served up with fragrant brown loaves of Aunt Alira’s wheat bread and sweet butter still cold from the well room.
    Ilina, who was quite taken with Sebrahn, eyed him with concern. “Why isn’t the little one eating?”
    “Alec fed him a little while ago,” Seregil told her, which was true.
    Just before the sweets course, Uncle Akaien looked down the table and waved to Seregil, motioning for him and Alec to join him. Micum had been given an honored place at his side.
    “How does it feel to be home, nephew?” asked Akaien.
    “Good, so far. It’s been so long.”
    “I noticed that you weren’t carrying the sword I sent to you at Sarikali.”
    Seregil gave him a rueful look. “I’m afraid I lost it—”
    Akaien shook his head. “Another one!”
    “It was in a good cause. It shattered while I was fighting a
dra’gorgos
. Not successfully, unfortunately. Alec lost his the same way. The ones we have now we stole in Plenimar.”
    “I see.”
    “I lost my bow, too,” Alec added. He wasn’t sure which had been the more grievous loss.
    “Damn, and I wanted another match!” Kheeta said, overhearing, as he and several other young men and youths joined them.
    “I’d hoped to see that Black Radly, too,” said Akaien. “Kheeta’s bragged up your prowess. But maybe we can find you another until you can replace it.”
    “Actually, the khirnari at Gedre gave me a new one,” Alec told him.
    “You’ll have to start your
shatta
collection all over again, though,” Kheeta pointed out. “It’s too bad, too. You had a lot.” Among the Aurënfaie, most of these match prizes were little figures or shapes carved from wood, bone, glazed clay beads, feathers, or coins with holes punched through, though some were made of precious stones or metals. “We’ll have a match tomorrow.”
    “I’m in for that!” one of the young men exclaimed, and others joined in, crowding around to introduce themselves.
    Seregil smiled, pleased to see Alec already making friends, as he always did, and so easily.
    As soon as the meal was finished, the tables were carried away and musicians struck up dancing music.
    Seregil felt the pull of it, but he was too tired to dance. Instead, he borrowed a harp and coaxed Alec into joining him for a few songs.
    As the night wore on, people gradually drifted away to bed or other pastimes.
    Akaien, who’d been talking swords with Micum, came over to Seregil and Alec. “I fancy a bit of fresh air, nephews,” he said, with a meaningful look at Sebrahn, who was leaning back against Alec’s leg.
    A servant fetched their cloaks, and Akaien led the way out to a path by the lakeshore. Seregil inhaled the cold, fir-scented air gratefully, still trying to take in the fact that he was here, and walking with his uncle under the stars as he had so often, and with Alec, too.
    “Adzriel told me a little before dinner,” said Akaien, stopping to admire the view of the starlit islands. “Alec, she says you were given some sort of prophecy about a child at Sarikali. But this is no ordinary child.”
    Alec looked to Seregil, who nodded. “I trust him as I trust myself.”
    So Alec told him of the prophecy and the making, but not of Sebrahn’s true powers. They’d agreed with Adzriel to keep that a secret. Sebrahn’s appearance was enough of a hurdle.
    Akaien listened in thoughtful silence, then held out his arms. “Will he come to me?”
    Sebrahn allowed himself to be passed over. He sat calmly in Akaien’s arms, gazing up at him, eyes shimmering in the darkness.
    The older man smiled. “Such a dark birth for a child of light.”
    “How do you mean, Uncle?” asked Alec.
    “He was made from you. And there’s nothing evil in you or in ’faie blood. So how can there be evil in this little fellow?”
    Only Adzriel’s admonition kept Seregil from telling him the whole truth. Even he didn’t think of Sebrahn as evil, but his innocent