The White Road - Lynn Flewelling [3]
--PATRICK O'LEARY
"While fans of Dungeons and Dragons-style lore will find enough wizardry, necromancy, swords, daggers, and devilishly clever traps here to satisfy the most avid, this book also provides entry to a complete and richly realized world that will please more mainstream readers."
--Bangor Daily News
ALSO BY LYNN FLEWELLING
Luck in the Shadows
Stalking Darkness
Traitor's Moon
Shadows Return
and
The Bone Doll's Twin
Hidden Warrior
The Oracle's
Queen
For my terrific kid sister, Susan.
Thanks for your love,
support, and enthusiasm
all these years.
acknowledgments
I would like to thank my wonderful editor, Anne Groell, for her insight and care with this book, and my wonderful husband, Doug, for his unwavering support.
Thanks also to heavy metal cello band (that's right--cellos) Apocalyptica, for making such great music to write to.
CHAPTER 1
Safe Harbor
DYING--even for just a little while--took a lot out of a person. Alec and his companions had arrived in Gedre last night and Alec had managed to stay on his horse as they rode up from the harbor to the clan house, but he'd spoiled it by fainting in the courtyard. Mydri had taken one sharp look at him and packed him off to bed in a room overlooking the harbor. And when their host saw Sebrahn, Riagil i Molan had ordered that the rhekaro stay hidden, too. Given Sebrahn's strange appearance, Alec could hardly blame him.
Winter rain lashed against the window across the room and the wind moaned in the chimney. Gedre harbor was barely visible, the ships anchored there just dark smudges in the mist. After their stormy crossing from Plenimar, it was rather nice to be in a soft bed that didn't roll under him. He had no idea what time it was. When he'd awakened, Seregil was already gone, no doubt to speak with his sisters or their host, the khirnari.
Sebrahn was curled up on the cushions of the window seat, gazing out--though at what it was impossible to say. The rhekaro might have Alec's childhood features, but it was impossible to pass him off as an ordinary child. His pale, silver-white hair hung nearly to the floor behind him. His white skin looked ghostly in the grey light, and his silver eyes were the color of steel. Riagil's wife, Yhali, had replaced the rags Sebrahn had arrived in with soft Aurenfaie tunics, knitted stockings, and shoes that fit him, though Sebrahn seemed confused by the latter and kept taking them off. Just as any little child might do--
But he's not a child, is he?
Pushing that thought away, Alec reached for the mug Mydri had left on the bedside table and sipped the medicinal broth. His hand shook a bit, spilling a few drops down the front of his nightshirt.
He and Seregil had been in desperate condition when Micum and Thero had found them in Plenimar, but Sebrahn had been even worse. He was made of magic and had used a staggering amount to kill their pursuers in the Plenimaran wilderness, bring Alec back from Bilairy's gate, and heal both Seregil and Alec. For the first few days of the voyage they feared that the wizened, depleted little rhekaro might have used himself up. Too weak to get out of his bunk, Alec had fed Sebrahn several times a day, squeezing blood from his fingertip onto the rhekaro's little grey tongue. After a few days of this Sebrahn grew more alert and continued to improve. And today he seemed nearly himself again.
Alec wondered how long Riagil and Mydri were going to keep him shut away up here. His long linen nightshirt was fresh, but he hadn't