Shadows Return

CHAPTER 30 Watcher Business

MICUM WAVED OFF the Orëska doorkeeper who mistook him for a stranger. It had been a while, he supposed.

He took the stairs slowly, hampered by his bad leg and stick. As soon as he reached Thero’s landing, however, he straightened and concentrated on striding normally. The thick scar on the back of his thigh always stiffened during a long ride, but once he got moving he could get around well enough, so long as he didn’t have to sprint.

Thero answered his knock, already dressed for travel. The young wizard’s time in Aurënen had changed him, and for the better. The sallow complexion and thin-lipped, brittle demeanor were gone; Thero was sun-browned and looked fitter than he had in Nysander’s time. Seregil had always maintained that Thero needed to spend more time outside the Orëska House, and it appeared he’d been right.

“Magyana’s on her way,” Thero told him, hustling him to the workroom, where a small pack and several bags sat ready on a bench. “Have you eaten? I’m sure the khirnari will feed us when we arrive. He’s expecting us soon and I-”

Micum laughed. “It’s all right, Thero. I’m ready when you are, and just as anxious to be off.”

Thero paused and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I haven’t been able to think about anything but leaving. Thank you for getting here so quickly.”

“Well, you did interrupt a good breakfast yesterday with that message light of yours,” Micum reminded him.

Thero looked blank for a moment. “Oh! I disturbed your lady.”

“In more ways than one.”

“She’s not happy to see you back to Watcher business, is she?”

“No.” And if it had been for anyone but Alec and Seregil, she would have thrown more things at him than she had, and sharper ones, too. Being the cause of her tears, and Illia’s, had hurt far worse, though.

Magyana came in without knocking. “Here I am. Shall we begin?”

“Are you certain you can send two of us at once?” asked Micum. Magyana had aged terribly since her old friend’s death. She looked frail as a dry twig today.

Magyana chuckled. “It has been a while since I’ve done it, but I’m sure I haven’t forgotten how. Go on, hang on to your baggage there and be ready to step lively. I can only hold the portal open a few moments.”

Thero shouldered his pack and made to slip a hand under Micum’s arm. The older man raised a bushy red eyebrow at him with an unmistakable frown and Thero hastily stepped back.

“I’m not a complete cripple either, you know,” Micum grumbled, tucking his walking stick under one arm. “I’m fairly certain I can walk a few feet without falling on my ass.”

“Sorry.” Thero was smirking, the bastard!

“If you’re quite done?” Magyana interjected.

Micum nodded. “We are, Mistress. Whenever you’re ready.”

Magyana pressed her fingertips together in front of her face and began the muttered incantation. A spark of darkness coalesced in the cage of her fingers, and she spread her hands, stretching the darkness into a shining, spinning mirror of blackness large enough for the two men to step through.

Micum caught himself holding his breath, as if he were about to jump into deep water. He’d only done this a few times and didn’t care much for the feeling. Steeling himself, he grabbed Thero by the elbow and together they stepped into the spinning darkness and disappeared.

Magyana let the portal collapse, then dusted her hands and sniffed loudly. “‘Are you certain you can send two of us at once?’ What cheek!”

Magyana knew Gedre well, and her aim was true. Micum and Thero stumbled out in the middle of the sunlit courtyard at Riagil í Molan’s clan house. The whitewashed buildings were long and low, with round white domes here and there and brilliant flowering vines still in bloom.

A loud whistle came from somewhere overhead and Micum looked up to find a young girl about Illia’s age sitting in the branches of the huge tree that dominated the courtyard. She was dressed in a long tunic and trousers, and her bare feet were dirty. At her signal a number of people emerged from the house, led by a distinguished old man with a pretty young woman on his arm.

They came to Thero and kissed him on both cheeks. “Welcome back, Thero í Procepios. And welcome to you, Micum of Cavish. You are the friend of Gedre’s friends and welcome in our house.”

“Khirnari, and lady, I am honored to be here, even under such sad circumstances. I grieve for those whom you have lost.”

Lady Yhali bowed to him. “And we grieve for the fate of Seregil and young Alec. I know they are close to your heart. Come. Refresh yourself and eat at our table.”

Micum glanced up at the sun, gauging how much daylight was left.

“You’re anxious to be off,” Riagil noted with an understanding smile. “The place of the ambush is a day and a half’s ride from here. I’ll send for your escort at once, if you would prefer.”

“If you would not think us rude, Khirnari?” Thero replied.

“Of course not,” Yhali said, patting his arm. “Come and have some tea while your escort assembles.”

They sat at one of the tables under the tree and servants brought them cold tea flavored with crushed mint and borage leaves, and plates of soft little cakes filled with nuts and honey.

“I’ve called for forty riders to go with you, and all of them skilled at arms,” Riagil said as he rejoined them. “I only wish I’d had such foresight with the others. It is a heavy shame to bear, for guests to come to such a pass.”

“How could you have foreseen a slaver raid, this far east?” Thero replied kindly. “Seregil and Alec will hold no grudge against your house, rest assured.”

“I understand a few things were recovered from the site of the attack?” Micum asked.

Riagil motioned to a man standing nearby, who went to fetch a large wooden tray. On it were half a dozen Zengati arrow points, a broken silver neck chain, several scarves bearing Zengati clan designs, and a bone button.

“That’s all?” Thero asked, disappointed.

“There were more arrows, but they were all the same.”

“And the bodies?”

“Buried, of course. They’d already begun to bloat when we found them.”

“Of course,” Micum murmured, examining each item closely. Seregil was the best of them at reading a corpse. Thank the Flame his or Alec’s hadn’t been among the dead.

Distracted by such thoughts, he very nearly missed a detail. He picked up the button again and looked more closely at it. “This isn’t Zengati work. See how it’s drilled with four holes rather than two, and the way the edges are rubbed smooth? It’s from Plenimar, or Skala.”

“Any Zengati could have eastern clothing, either from trade or slave taking,” Thero pointed out.

“Perhaps, but it’s too soon to rule out anyone yet,” Micum replied. “If the Zengat could make such a raid, anyone could have been with them.”

Yhali gave him a perplexed look. “Why would a Skalan mean them any harm?”

Micum exchanged a quick glance with Thero. It wouldn’t be politic to admit that the person they most suspected was the Skalan queen.