Traitor's Moon

doesn’t want her back, does she? She’s succeeded where Phoria wanted her to fail, and turned you to her side in the bargain.”
    â€œIt would be better if no one else ever heard you say these things,” Korathan replied quietly, his pale eyes icy.
    â€œThey won’t,” Seregil assured him. “But Phoria must have known what she was doing when she sent you. It takes time to outfit that many warships, and time to get them here. This was no spur-of-the-moment venture. She didn’t mean for Klia to come home.”
    â€œYou’re not a stupid man, Seregil. I’ve always known that, no matter how you played the wastrel with the other young bloods. So I know that you understand the risk you’re taking, saying this to me, the queen’s brother.”
    â€œKlia’s loyal, Korathan. She has no designs on her sister’s throne. I think you believe that, too, or you wouldn’t have come here to help her,” Seregil nodded.
    Korathan tapped the side of his cup, considering. “It was Klia’s idea to stay, as it happens, though I was happy enough to grant her request.”
    â€œThank you, my lord.” Seregil rose to go, then held his cup upagain. “To the continued good health of all Idrilain’s daughters, and their daughters after them.”
    The prince touched his cup to Seregil’s, not smiling. “I’m the queen’s man, Lord Seregil. Don’t ever forget that.”
    â€œNot for a moment, my lord.”
    The Skalans spent their last evening in the city as they had their first, feasting with the Bôkthersans under a rising moon.
    Sitting there in his sister’s garden, Seregil searched his heart for some regret, but for once sadness eluded him. He could come back, at least as far as Gedre, and for now that was enough. His thoughts were already turning to Rhíminee.
    As they rose to take their leave at last, Mydri drew him and Alec aside. “Wait, my dears. Let the others go. We must make our own farewells.”
    When she and Adzriel returned from seeing the others off, the older woman was carrying a long, familiar bundle.
    â€œI hope you manage to hang on to it this time,” Adzriel said, giving him back his sword. “Riagil left it with me when he brought you back.”
    Mydri placed a smaller package in Alec’s hands, and he unwrapped it to find a long hunting knife. The grip was made of some dark, reddish wood and inlaid with bands of horn and silver. “Only members of our clan own such knives,” she told him, kissing him on both cheeks. “You are our new brother, no matter what your name may be. Take care of Seregil until he comes back to us.”
    â€œYou have my word,” Alec told her.
    Seregil and Alec were crossing the short distance to the guest house when a slender, robed figure stepped from the shadows across the street. The woman wore the hat and robes of a rhui’auros, but Seregil couldn’t make out her face.
    â€œLhial sends you a gift, Seregil of Rhíminee,” she said, and tossed something that glittered softly in the moonlight.
    He caught it and recognized the slightly rough feeling of glass against his fingers.
    â€œSuch clever hands,” the woman said, laughing as she vanished.
    â€œWhat is it?” Alec asked, fishing a lightstone from his belt pouch.
    Seregil opened his hand. It was another of the strange orbs, butthis one was as clear as river ice, allowing him to see the tiny carving it held—a dragon with the feathered wings of an owl.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Alec asked again.
    Yours to keep. Yours to discard, little brother
.
    â€œA reminder, I think,” Seregil said, pocketing it with care.

58
R UINS
    S eregil stood alone at the ship’s prow, watching as the distant outline of Rhíminee’s citadel slowly resolved against the dawn-tinted sky. Fog lingered over the harbor, set aglow here and there by a few early lamps in the Lower City.
    The sound of feet on the deck above had woken him. Leaving Alec still asleep, he’d gone up alone, thankful for a few moments to himself for this homecoming.
    The harbor was as flat as a mirror inside the moles and crowded with warships and merchant carracks riding at anchor. It was so still at this hour that Seregil could hear the rumble of wagons on their way up the walled road to the Sea Market, and the crowing of cocks on the citadel. Closer at hand, a cook on a nearby