White Road

his hand and made the Watcher sign—left thumb curled over his forefinger. For centuries Watcher members had been scattered all over Skala and Mycena, and some in the northlands beyond, too: wizards, merchants, innkeepers, even drysians, all of whom were well paid through various channels to keep their secrets from all but their leader, and some of them had no idea who that was. Since Nysander’s death, it was Thero. In spite of Phoria’s orders, the organization was still in place. The queen had no idea of the breadth of it, assuming it was just Seregil and a few others in Rhíminee.
    Seregil paused in a tiny market and looked around. “I don’t remember this being here.”
    Micum scratched at the thick, greying stubble on his cheek, looking thoughtful again. “I hate to think we’ve lived long enough to forget our way.”
    After some casting about, Seregil got his bearings again and led the way down several muddy streets to a little back lane near the forest’s edge. There were only a few houses here, and they continued on to the last one, which stood apart from the others. Alec was heartened to see firelight through its two windows. As they approached, two huge hounds emerged from the shadows, growling with their heads lowered and hackles up.
    Seregil held out his left hand and did the dog trick. As usual, the hounds went from growling menace to happy tail wagging in an instant. Seregil gave them both a good scratching behind their ears, then moved to the door and tapped out a pattern. A moment later a muffled voice demanded, “Who is it?”
    “Luck in the shadows,” Seregil whispered.
    They heard the bar lifted inside. The door swung open to reveal a plump old woman in a nightgown and shawl. “And in the Light!” she whispered back. “I should have known when the dogs went quiet! It’s been years, and you look just the same, you shameless bastard. What brings you here after all this time? And Micum! By the Maker, but you’ve aged.”
    Micum laughed and kissed her on the cheek.
    “And who’s this pretty young thing?” she demanded, looking Alec up and down.
    Seregil fought back a grin. “This pretty young thing is our friend Alec. He’s one of us, so you can speak your mind in front of him.”
    Madlen gave Alec the Watcher sign. When he returned it, she seemed satisfied.
    “Well, I’m glad to meet you, Alec.” Then she caught sight of Sebrahn as he peeked out from behind Alec’s legs. His hood had fallen back, and his eyes and the wide silvery streaks in his hair shone like metal in the firelight. The white patch on his cheek looked pink.
    “And a little one!” Madlen exclaimed before Alec could muffle him up again, not seeming the least put off by Sebrahn’s odd appearance. “Dear me, what have you boys been up to?”
    “Not what you think,” chuckled Micum.
    She gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. “You may be a bit greyer, but you haven’t lost that sparkle in your eye.”
    Seregil gave Alec the nod to unwrap the rhekaro. Madlen’s eyes widened for an instant at the sight of him; then she scooped him up against her ample bosom before Alec could stop her and carried him over to the hearth.
    Seregil caught his breath, exchanging a worried look with Alec, but Sebrahn just settled in her arms and looked back at Alec.
    “The poor little thing is cold as ice!” she scolded. In the firelight, Sebrahn’s eyes didn’t look so unnatural. “Just feel his poor little hands. Whose child is this, if he isn’t yours, and what are you doing with him?”
    “The less said, the better,” Micum told her.
    “We didn’t kidnap him,” said Alec. “He’s mine.”
    Madlen pulled back to look at Sebrahn’s face. “Of course. He favors you. But how did a young one like you come to have a child this old?”
    “As Micum said,” Seregil told her, “the less you know, the better. Can you give us a safe place for the night?”
    “You know you’re always welcome here, though if you stay away this long again, I’ll be in my grave next time you come by. And now, since I have such strong men here, I’m going to take advantage. Can you fetch me in some firewoodfrom the byre?” She pointed to the empty wood box near the hearth. “I’ve got some nice fish chowder I can heat up for you, if it hasn’t curdled.”
    “We’ll do it for the joy of your company,” Micum replied. “But your chowder is always much appreciated.”
    It took several trips, and some explaining as to why Sebrahn