Shadows Return - Lynn Flewelling [68]
“No. It must be part of the special purification.”
“Because of my impure blood.”
“Most likely.”
“Do you see the change in me?”
“Of course, but I didn’t know if he’d shown you.” Khenir gave him a shy, sidelong look. “You’re very handsome. You were before, but now you look more like a full-blooded ’faie than a…Oh, no. I don’t mean anything by it! I’m not…”
“It’s all right.” Alec gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and chuckled. “I’ve been called a lot worse.”
Khenir fell in step beside him again, but the silence that followed felt rather strained. “I saw your name,” Alec told him.
“You did? Where?”
“On the door,” Alec whispered.
Khenir looked honestly perplexed. “What door?”
“In my cell.” Perhaps it had been another man of that name. Whatever the case, Khenir seemed to have no idea what he was talking about.
But after a moment Khenir nodded sadly. “Oh yes, down at the bottom. I’d forgotten. That was a dark time.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
Khenir patted his hand. “You apologize far too often, and for things that are not any fault of yours. It’s enough for me that I have someone I can talk to. You see, I was half-dead when Ilban brought me here, and I wasn’t kept down there very long. As soon as I could speak again, I pledged my life to him. I’ve kept that promise.”
Alec couldn’t really fault Khenir for that; he had been pretty damn grateful, himself, the night a stranger who’d turned out to be Seregil had gotten him out of that north country dungeon the night before Alec was to be sold to Plenimaran slavers. It was ironic, really. Everything that he’d done and become since then had landed him here anyway, with a collar around his neck.
“There were more names. What happened to all those people?”
Khenir shrugged. “Who knows? It’s a very old house and they could have belonged to Ilban’s family.”
Just then they were interrupted by shrill, childish laughter. A small boy dashed into the garden, clutching a toy horse to his chest and looking back over his shoulder with a challenging grin. Somewhere behind him, another child wailed angrily. Alec didn’t need to understand the language to guess that the boy was teasing his sister.
A woman called out sharply, and the child stuck out his tongue. He turned and made for the fountain, but halted as he caught sight of Alec and Khenir in the shadow of the portico. The child’s mischievous expression changed to open disdain. He snapped something at them, and Khenir hastily bowed and put on his veil.
“Cover your face!” he whispered to Alec.
Alec pulled his up, but not quickly enough to suit the little tyrant. The child stamped his foot and shouted at them.
Khenir replied with a deeper bow, but that only made the boy angrier. He snatched up a stone from beside the pathway and cocked his arm back, ready to throw. Khenir just stood there, hands at his side.
Alec stepped between them, glaring at the child to make him stop.
The boy’s eyes widened and the hand holding the stone lowered a bit. But there was no mistaking the malice in his eyes.
“Buko!” he cried angrily, and it sounded like either a threat or an insult.
The veiled nursemaid appeared before things could get any worse and hurried to catch the boy. Forgetting about Alec and Khenir, he dropped the stone and darted out of reach, laughing again as he disappeared the way he’d come.
Rhania paused a moment, looking at them, and Alec saw the unmistakable tracery of Khatme clan tattoos on her face above the veil. More surprising still was the naked animosity in her dark eyes as she looked past him to Khenir.
He spoke sharply to her and she flinched as if he’d struck her, then hurried away, hissing something back at him under her breath.
“What was that about?” asked Alec, wishing he’d had a chance to speak with her.
“She hates me,” Khenir explained. “I took her place in the master’s esteem, and now she’s just the nursemaid.”
“She’s a Khatme.”
“Yes, and no one holds a grudge more deeply. You’d do well to watch out for her. She’s a spiteful, ill-tempered one, that woman.”
“What did the boy say, before