Shadows Return - Lynn Flewelling [94]
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you today,” Yhakobin said, cutting another pastry in half and letting Alec choose which part he wanted.
As Alec wolfed down his second piece, the alchemist rose and went to the strange little painted tent at the far end of the room. He pulled open the front of it, and inside Alec saw an iron cage. The rhekaro was huddled inside, skinny arms wrapped around its thin, sexless body.
Its hair was paler silver than the last one’s, and had already grown down to its waist. When it looked up and saw Alec, it let out a weird, high-pitched whimper.
“It’s hungry, too. You must come and feed it.”
Alec froze, and the pastry went dry in his mouth.
Yhakobin raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s the second time you’ve shown me disrespect today, Alec.”
Alec swallowed the mouthful he’d been chewing. “Forgive me, Ilban. I’m just—I don’t know what to make of any of this.”
“That’s better. It subsists upon your blood. That alone sustains it.” He pulled out his bodkin. “Come here, Alec. It’s only a few drops. Surely you don’t wish the poor thing to suffer?”
The words struck home. Resigned, he rose and let Yhakobin prick him, then squatted down and held his hand in through the bars, wondering what to expect.
The rhekaro sniffed sharply, then sprang forward on its knees and clutched Alec’s hand, sucking greedily at his finger. It was startling in its ferocity, and the strength in those pale little hands. He could feel the sharp edges of new teeth breaking through its pale gums. Shock quickly gave way to fascination. Though nearly as big as Illia, and better formed than its predecessor, it seemed more like an infant in its actions.
“Does it speak, Ilban?”
“Speak? Of course not! Why would it speak?”
Rebuffed, Alec kept his questions to himself and concentrated on the rhekaro. Its hand was cold against Alec’s, but he could feel muscle and bone in all the proper places. Apart from the lack of genitals or a navel, and its distinctive complexion, it seemed human enough. It looked up at him just then, and he could have sworn it smiled. The colorless lips, still sucking, flexed a little and its weird silvery eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. Only then did Alec realize that he had been smiling at it.
He was relieved to see that this one appeared to be unharmed so far, except for some reddened spots on its fingertips.
“You use its blood, too, Ilban?”
“What runs in the veins of this rhekaro is your blood, but in a more highly purified form.”
Hâzadriëlfaie blood, Alec thought.
“This creature’s body is at once the vessel and the athanor which refines it,” Yhakobin went on.
“What do you want it for, Ilban?” he asked before he could stop himself.
But the man’s patience was at an end. “That’s enough, Alec. It does not concern you.”
Alec went back to his cell in a daze, the taste of the pastries still filling his mouth. The rhekaro, whatever it was, needed him to live, which ensured a very narrow scope for Alec’s life if he didn’t find some way to get out.
And if I do escape, it will starve and die. It surprised him, how much the thought of that bothered him.
And then there was the matter of the missing picks. Was it possible that it hadn’t been Khenir who’d taken them? And if not, then who had them, and why?
CHAPTER 28
Seregil Follows His Own Advice
ILAR SEEMED PREPARED to take Seregil at his word regarding his pledge. The beatings ceased, and for several days Seregil was left to himself, except for Zoriel’s brief visits to see to his care. He had a few books now, and sat by the window much of each day, reading and watching for any sign of Alec. But the garden remained empty, save for when the household children came to feed the fish.
Just when he thought he’d go mad, Ilar came one evening to visit him. He was dressed