Traitor's Moon

28 BURGLARS AT THE BANQUET

Whether it was Klia's tacit approval for them to spy on her behalf, or simply the end of the enforced abstinence, Seregil surprised Alec with a burst of passion as soon as they were alone that evening.

"What's this?" Alec laughed as he was propelled none too gently onto the bed. Thanks to Seregil's frequent dark moods and the lingering effects of his mysterious "fall," they'd scarcely touched in days, weeks even.

"If you have to ask, then it has been too long," Seregil growled, yanking Alec's coat open and fumbling with his belt. He was wild, urgent, hungry to please. Alec responded in kind, neither of them noticing until much later that the door of their balcony was open to the world.

"We've probably got everyone from here to the kitchens blushing or cursing our names," Seregil laughed when he'd finally collapsed on the floor beside the bed.

Alec hung an arm over the side and toyed with a strand of his dark hair. "If they can still hear us, tell them to fetch a healer to re-string my joints."

Seregil grasped his hand and pulled him over the edge, grunting as Alec landed on top of him. "Bilairy's Guts, tali, you're all knees and elbows." Nuzzling Alec's neck, he inhaled appreciatively. "You smell so good! How is it I always forget how—"

Alec pulled back to look at him. "There's something I forgot to tell you the other night when I got back from Ulan's. The business about Phoria drove it right out of my head."

"Hmmm? You forgot—" Seregil murmured, hands roaming.

Alec caught one of them and pinned it against his chest. "Listen, will you? While I was spying on Ulan, a strong smell like perfume warned me that a watchman was coming to the room where I was hiding."

This got Seregil's attention. "Warned you how?"

"It distracted me so that I saw the watchman coming. I'd have been caught for sure if it hadn't. And it wasn't the first time I smelled it, either."

"Oh?"

Alec rolled free and sat up. "It was just after we arrived in Sarikali. Kheeta took me to the House of the Pillars and we ran into Emiel i Moranthi. . " He faltered, seeing Seregil's eyes narrow dangerously. "It was just some insults, that's all."

"I see. Then what?"

"As we were leaving I smelled that same sweet scent at about the same moment I thought I heard someone following us. Maybe that was a warning, too."

Seregil nodded thoughtfully. "Some people experience the Bash'wai that way."

A superstitious chill spider-walked up Alec's spine. "You think that's what it was?"

"I expect so. Interesting."

"That's one word for it," Alec replied. "Where I'm from, it's an unlucky thing when the dead take an interest in you."

"And where I'm from, we say take what the Lightbringer sends and be thankful." Seregil chuckled, rising to pull him into bed again. "Keep your nose to the breeze and let me know if you smell it again."

Corporal Nikides gave Seregil and Alec a knowing smirk the next morning as they went through the kitchen passage. "Good to have the mourning over with, eh, my lords?"

"Damn right," Seregil agreed jauntily.

"Oh, hell!" Alec growled beneath his breath, coloring hotly.

Seregil wrapped an arm around his friend's waist. "Oh, come

now, you didn't think it was any secret, did you? Or are you ashamed of me, my stiff-necked Dalnan prude?"

For a moment he feared Alec would pull away. Instead, he found himself pinned roughly against the wall of the now deserted hallway.

Pressing his hands to the stone on either side of Seregil's head, Alec leaned in for a bruising kiss. "Of course I'm not ashamed, but I was a stiff-necked Dalnan prude before you came along, so next time let's make certain the door's closed, all right?"

Seregil clucked his tongue in mock concern. "Dear me, I see there's a good deal more we have to work on with you." Laughing, he slipped under Alec's arm and continued on toward the hall. "At the solstice festival here, they—"

"I know what they do," said Alec. "I only pray we're back in Skala before then."

Klia and the wizard were there, waiting for the rest to join them before leaving for the council.

"You two are looking remarkably well rested this morning," Klia observed dryly.

"As are you, my lady," Seregil returned with gallant good humor, trying not to laugh as Alec cringed beside him. "We'll all be needing our wits about us today."

An air of expectation hung over the Iia'sidra chamber as the members gathered for the morning session. Seated with Alec in his usual place behind Klia, Seregil studied the faces around the council circle and read in many a subtle, collective tension that hadn't been there a week before. The Khatme were looking unusually sanguine, the Akhendi grim—both bad weather signs for Skala. Ulan's private cabal had certainly had an effect.

Elos i Orian was the first to speak. He paused a moment to tuck back the ends of his brown-and-white sen'gai, letting the others wait, then addressed the chamber with the ease of one who has had his speech laid out for him in advance.

"Klia a Idrilain, you have shown great patience," he began, acknowledging her with a nod. "Your presence here has done honor to your race, and brought new insight to our people." He turned to the assembly. "Are we of the Iia'sidra unaware of the pain such delay must have caused her and her people? Many things have been discussed in this chamber; all have had their say. What more is there to be done?" He paused for a murmur of approval. "The will of Aura

and the people must be served. To that end, I propose that the vote be cast at the Vhadasoori in seven days' time."

One by one, the khirnari signaled unanimous consent.

"That's the first thing they've agreed on since we've been here," muttered Alec.

The decision brought the council to an abrupt halt. Abandoning the orderly rote, people wandered freely, major and minor clans alike. Some, including the Akhendi, left quickly. Others lingered to cajole and harangue one another.

The Skalans and Bokthersans withdrew and rode back to their tupa together.

"It was most tactful of Ulan to have his daughter's husband push for the vote," Adzriel observed sourly.

"You think he means to capitalize on the doubts he's sown?" asked Klia.

"Of course he does," said Seregil. "How long do you suppose he's been planning this maneuver? You notice he's one of the last to host a feast in your honor?"

"Ostensibly in my honor," Klia said. "He's invited everyone in Sarikali."

"I've been to Viresse banquets. They may throw us out of Aurenen empty-handed, but at least they'll show us a good time first. Wouldn't you agree, Lord Torsin?"

Caught coughing softly into his handkerchief, Torsin wiped his lips and smiled. "He cannot present his usual collection of foreign entertainments here, but I'm certain he will provide us with a most memorable evening."

"If he's so certain of the decision, why did he have Elos i Orian set a date a week off?" Alec asked. "Why not tomorrow?"

"It's the least time allowed before a vote," Saaban i Irais explained. "As you've all observed, the Aurenfaie prefer not to rush into anything. It's an auspicious number, seven; a quarter of the moon's cycle, and the time it takes for it to pass into each of the four phases."

"Auspicious for whom, I wonder?" asked Klia.

" 'The same moon shines on all, " Mydri quoted.

"True," Seregil agreed. "And this isn't over yet; at least we have a little time to sway the undecided. This hunt of yours with the Haman tomorrow feels like a turn of luck to me. Nazien i Hari has already taken a liking to you. He could be a valuable advocate. If he comes around to our side, his vote could make the difference."

"Yet that would mean antagonizing both Lhapnos and many

members of his own clan," Torsin reminded him. "I hesitate to put too much stock in his support."

"To be honest, my lady, I'm not so sure I like the idea of you going off with them into the hills," said Beka.

Adzriel shook her head. "Whatever tensions may lie between my clan and his, I know Nazien to be a man of honor. He will watch over your princess as closely as if she were in his own fai'thast, no matter where they are."

"And I'll have you and Alec and a whole decuria of soldiers to protect me, Captain," Klia added cheerfully. "After all these weeks of formalities, I'm looking forward to a hard day's ride."

The waning moon hung low over the horizon as the Skalans and Bokthersans strolled to Viresse tupa that evening. At Seregil's suggestion, the entire delegation had dressed in their richest clothes.

"We don't want to come in looking like poor relations," he warned, guessing what lay in store for them.

Consequently, Klia was decked out like a queen. Her satin gown rustled richly as she walked arm in arm with Torsin. Aurenfaie jewels sparkled at her wrists, throat, and fingers. The gold circlet on her brow bore a crescent set with diamonds that caught even the gentle light of the moon and stars and turned them to fire. She even wore the humble Akhendi charms.

The rest were equally resplendent. Alec could have passed for royalty on the streets of Rhiminee. Beka, who would act as Klia's personal aide, was elegant in her close-fitting tabard and burnished gorget and brimmed helmet.

By the time they reached the Vhadasoori they could make out lights twinkling brightly outside the Viresse khirnari's house.

With Klia and Adzriel in the lead, they skirted the shore of the broad pool and emerged from between the stone guardians on the far side to find their host's house festooned with mage lights, artfully arranged by some talented hand in clusters among the columns of the long portico.

"It looks a bit different from the last time I was here," Alec murmured.

"At least this time you get to use the door," Seregil whispered back.

"Where's the fun in that?"

They were met by Ulan's wife, Hathia a Thana, and a gaggle of flower-bedecked children, who presented each guest with a small parchment lantern hung on a red-and-blue silk cord.

"What a pretty magic!" exclaimed Klia, holding hers up to admire the soft, shifting glow that came from within.

"It is but a reosu," Hathia demurred, welcoming them in.

"No magic to it. It's a firefly lantern," Seregil explained. "I remember making these on summer evenings as a child. But I don't recall ever seeing fireflies here in Sarikali this early in the year."

"They're quite thick in the marshes of Viresse just now," their hostess replied, leaving it to her guests to guess the expense and trouble of importing enough of the tiny insects overland for the simple pleasure of a few lanterns.

They passed through the receiving hall and continued out onto a terrace overlooking the enormous garden court at the center of the house. The spectacle that greeted them drew gasps of appreciation from everyone.

Hundreds of reosu hung in the flowering trees that ringed the garden. Others swung gently from the lines of brightly colored prayer kites rustling overhead. The walls of the courtyard were covered by swaths of crimson silk and gauze that rippled voluptuously in the evening breeze beneath garlands of gilded seashells. The soft music of flutes and cymbals came from some shadowed corner. A large crowd had already gathered in the garden, with more still arriving by various doors.

Spices and incense from half a dozen foreign lands perfumed the air, mingling with the aromas of the feast laid out on long tables hung with colorful Skalan tapestries. Ulan i Sathil had opened his doors to all in Sarikali, and it looked like he had the provender to make good on the offer.

Great antlered stags roasted whole lay between platters of birds cooked and dressed in their own plumage. Fish and seafood from the eastern coast were laid out in enormous seashells. Jellies of all descriptions quivered and gleamed next to mounds of rosy wingfish roe, huge smoked eels, and other costly delicacies. Fragrant parsley bread trenchers were stacked man-high in great wooden trays on the ground.

Pastries the size of bed pillows dominated the display. A Viresse specialty, these were shaped into fanciful beasts and decorated with edible paints and gilt. Wines glimmered with limpid fire in huge, ornate bowls carved from blocks of mountain ice.

Ulan stepped forward as they stood admiring the display. "Welcome to you, dear ladies, and to your kin and people," he said, presenting Klia with a strand of black Gathwayd pearls the size of gooseberries.

"I am most honored, khirnari," Klia replied. Removing her diamond circlet, she placed it in Hathia's hands. The making of such a lavish gift to her host's wife caused no insult, but stated without words that Klia was Ulan's equal. Her manner was flawlessly gracious, betraying nothing of her knowledge of his clandestine maneuvering.

"For someone who opposes Klia's mission, Ulan certainly hasn't stinted on the welcome," Alec remarked in an awed whisper as they followed Klia down the steps.

"This display is more for his own benefit than Klia's," Seregil noted, recognizing a show of influence when he saw one. "She'll go home eventually. He'll still be here, a force to be reckoned with each time the Iia'sidra meets."

"I have heard much of you through our friend Torsin over the years," Hathia was telling Klia. "It's said the best of your ancestors lives again in you."

"The same is said of my sister, the queen," Klia replied, just loudly enough for her voice to carry to the curious onlookers nearby. "May Aura grant that we are both worthy of such praise. You have a unique perspective on my family, having lived through so many generations of them. Ulan i Sathil, I believe you visited Skala in the days before the Edict?"

The deep creases in Ulan's cheeks deepened as he smiled. "Many times. I remember dancing with your ancestor Gerilani before she was crowned. That would be—how many generations back?"

He paused in thought, though Seregil suspected the whole exchange had been carefully rehearsed.

"Eight Tir generations back, I think?" said Hathia.

"Yes, talia, at least that long. Gerilani and I were hardly more than children at the time. Fortunate for you," he added with a twinkle in his wife's direction. "She was most enchanting."

Klia's arrival signaled the start of the feast. There were too many guests for tables; each person loaded a trencher and sat where they could, on the grass and the rims of fountains, or spreading into the rooms off the courtyard itself. The mix of opulence and informality was the hallmark of Viresse hospitality.

A succession of entertainments commenced with the banquet: musicians, jugglers, tellers of tales, dancers, and acrobats.

Seregil and Alec remained by Klia at first, watching and listening as the crowd flowed around them. Nazien i Hari was among the first to come to her, and Seregil noted with relief that Emiel and his cronies were not in evidence. Perhaps their khirnari was tired of

having his policies challenged in public. Or maybe rumors of Seregil's beating had reached the old Haman's ears at last and he was chancing no further transgressions against Sarikali law. Whatever the case, Seregil breathed a little easier without them there, and Nazien was all smiles.

"The weather promises fair. I hope we can show you good sport," Nazien said, slipping his arm through Klia's.

"A hard ride and the chance to explore a bit more of your country will be sport enough for me, Khirnari," Klia replied warmly.

Seregil signaled Alec with a discreet nudge and faded back into the surrounding crowd, leaving Klia to charm these potential allies. They had other work to do.

"This is the most people we've been around since we left Rhiminee," Alec remarked.

And I've missed this, Seregil thought, already straining his ears for interesting conversational tidbits. He suspected Alec felt the same. He'd already fallen into that unassuming manner that made him all but invisible in such gatherings, but his blue eyes were alert as those of a hound that sensed the chase at hand.

It was not difficult to linger unnoticed for a moment while Lhaar a Iriel expressed her continuing opposition to any lessening of the Edict to a sympathetic Haman, or to watch one of their host's kinsmen gently interrogating a Bry'khan woman as to her feelings about Aurenfaie mercenaries joining the war in the north.

Alec drifted away for a while, returning with Klia and word that some of the guests were not above grumbling at the extravagance surrounding them.

"I was standing near Moriel a Moriel a moment ago," he reported, pointing discreetly at the Ra'basi. Nyal was with her, gesturing animatedly in Beka Cavish's direction. "She told a Lhapnosan that what we're feasting on are the spoils that Viresse keeps for itself under the protection of the Edict."

"I've heard others say the same," murmured Klia. "Still, she's one I still can't read. Ra'basi benefits from the trade coming up the eastern coast by ship, even if it is only Viresse's crumbs. Yet she's made it clear more than once that the Ra'basi do not like being treated like some dependent clan." Her expression brightened as she glanced toward the main entrance. "Ah, but here are the Akhendi at last! I'd feared they wouldn't come."

"Rhaish i Arlisandin doesn't look very pleased to be back here so soon," said Alec.

"He has reason enough not to be," Seregil agreed. The khirnari

was pale and dour, though his greeting to their host and his wife seemed civil enough. His grey hair was windblown beneath his sen'gai, and he wore the same plain robe he'd had on at the morning's council.

"I'll sound him out," Klia said, going off to meet him. Seregil and Alec trailed behind her, picking up Thero along the way.

The crowd was thick. By the time they reached him, Rhaish had already been waylaid by Lord Torsin and the Gedre khirnari. Clasping hands with the envoy, Rhaish fumbled his reosu lantern, dropping it at Torsin's feet.

"Ah, the cost of age!" he groaned, shaking his head as he went stiffly down on one knee to retrieve it.

Klia and Thero both stepped forward, but the princess was quicker. Taking Rhaish's hand, she tried to help him up. The old man yanked his hand away with a gasp and staggered to his feet. Realizing it was Klia who'd tried to assist him, he bowed deeply. "Forgive me, my dear, I did not see you there," he said, embarrassment lending a little color to his cheeks.

"Where is your lady tonight?" Klia asked, looking around hopefully. "I've missed her."

"She's been weary these past few days and her women felt it would be best if she remained at home tonight," Rhaish replied quickly, still flustered. "She asked me to express her regards, and the hope of seeing you tomorrow if her condition permits. I won't be staying long myself."

"Of course not. It was good of you to make an appearance. I've been thinking Amali looked worn out these past few days. You know, there's a tea Skalan women drink back home to build them up during their pregnancy. My captain might know what's needed; her mother knows a good bit of midwifery." Chatting brightly, Klia slipped her arm through the khirnari's and drew him away in the direction of the iced wine.

" We have work to do," hinted Alec.

"I suppose so," Thero agreed.

Seregil raised an eyebrow at the wizard. "Anxious to throw your dignity to the wind, are you?"

Thero turned to study the banquet table. "I've been thinking about Nysander's old tricks. That flock of roast wrens has definite possibilities."

"Our host is a fastidious man, so try not to make too much of a mess."

In the early days of their acquaintance, Thero had been mortified

by his mentor's penchant for amusing magical tricks at parties. Now the young wizard attempted the same silliness with a sense of showmanship Seregil would never have credited him with.

Leaving the food alone for the moment, Thero began instead with the reosus. Approaching a group of Viresse children, he summoned several dozen of the little lanterns down from the boughs of a nearby tree and set them spinning in a circle above the children's delighted faces. When he had their attention, and that of some of their elders, he brought the lights down into a man-shaped formation and set it capering like a demented acrobat.

When a sufficient number of bystanders had turned to watch these antics, Alec and Seregil slipped out a nearby door and set off in search of the khirnari's private quarters.

Beka saw them go and watched to see if anyone followed. Satisfied that they were safe for the moment, she turned her attention back to Thero, who was now surrounded by a small crowd.

"I think your friend has lost his mind," Kheeta chuckled as he joined her.

"You should have seen his old master when he had a drop in," Beka replied, thinking wistfully of the pretty spells Nysander had concocted.

Some of the older 'faie seemed to share Kheeta's opinion. The khirnari of Akhendi stood next to Klia, looking doubtfully from the wizard to the princess, who was laughing gaily, as if Thero played the mountebank on a regular basis.

Sending the lanterns back to their branches, he proceeded to pull flowers and colored smoke from the ears of the rapt children gathered around him. It was rare to see Thero smile; rarer still to see him playful.

A familiar muffled cough distracted Beka. Turning, she saw Lord Torsin pressing a pristine handkerchief to his lips as his shoulders heaved. Hurrying to his side, she took his arm and offered him her wine cup. He drank gratefully and patted her hand. His own were cold.

"Are you unwell, my lord?" she asked, noting the fresh stains on the white cloth as he tucked it away in his sleeve.

"No, Captain, just old," he replied with a rueful smile. "And like so many old men, I weary sooner than I'd like. I believe I'll have a little stroll, then make my way home to bed."

"I'll send an escort with you." Beka gestured to Corporal Nikides, who stood nearby.

"There's no need for that," Torsin said. "I much prefer to see myself home."

"But your cough—"

"Has been with me a good long time." Torsin shook his head firmly. "You know how I enjoy my quiet walks under the stars here. With today's decision. ." He looked around sadly. "I shall miss Sarikali. Whatever the outcome, I doubt if any of us shall see it again."

"I'll be sorry if that is so, my lord," Beka said.

With a last bemused look at Thero, who was now coaxing a dragon-shaped pastry to life, the old envoy went to take leave of Klia and their host. Turning, Beka bumped into Nyal.

Weaving his fingers with hers, he raised her hand and pressed it to his lips. "I shall be very sorry to see you go. I've been thinking of nothing else since the vote was announced this morning. Our parting will be all the worse, knowing that you return to your war, talia."

It was the first time he had used the endearment, and the sound of it brought a rush of warmth to her heart and the sting of tears to her eyes.

"You could come with me." The words escaped before she could second-guess them.

"If they vote to lift the Edict, you could remain," he countered, still holding her hand.

The possibility hung between them for a moment, then Beka shook her head. "I can't abandon my command, or Klia. Not when every soldier is needed."

"This is what comes of loving a warrior." Nyal rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, studying the faded scars there.

"My offer stands." Searching those sad hazel eyes for an answer, she added in Aurenfaie, "Take what the Lightbearer sends and be thankful, tali."

Nyal chuckled softly. "That's a Bokthersan proverb, but I will reflect upon it."

Seregil and Alec moved through the labyrinthine house with their usual caution, but were soon satisfied that most of the household was busy in the main courtyard. The few people they encountered along the way, servants and trysting lovers mostly, were easily evaded.

"Does any of this look familiar?" Seregil asked.

"No, I was in the other wing."

Seregil had once known this sprawling house well. Wandering through familiar corridors and courts, he found his way at last to the khirnari's living quarters. The rooms faced a small courtyard encircled by banks of peony and wild rose. A pool at its center was stocked with large, silver fish.

"If we don't find the papers here, and quickly, we give up and go back," Seregil said, trying a door and finding it unlocked. "We've got to return before we're missed." He squinted at Alec in the dim moonlight. "You haven't smelled anything, have you?"

"Just the flowers."

Their search was made easier by the spare furnishings Ulan and his lady favored. Each room had what it needed to make it habitable, no more. Thick carpets softened the sound of their feet, but there were no tapestries, just airy silk hangings around the bed.

"Odd," Alec whispered, keeping a lookout at the door. "This is all of the best quality, but after what we've seen so far tonight, I'd have expected Ulan's tastes to be more elaborate."

"What does that suggest?" Seregil asked, poking through a clothes chest.

"That he doesn't care about material goods? That it's the power he craves, and displays of wealth like this gathering tonight are simply manifestations of his power?"

"Very good. There's more to him than that, though. He lives for his clan. Not that he hasn't made himself a great man in the process, but the power, the goods, trade, reputation? It's all for Viresse. That's the mark of a great khirnari."

He broke off, bent over a drawer in a small chest. "Look at this."

He flipped something bright at Alec, a new Skalan sester coin that had been cut in two.

"I bet I know what this is," he whispered, tossing it back. "Ulan sends sen'gai tassels. Torsin sends these."

"If you're right, then they've met at least five times." Seregil showed him more of the tokens. "What do you suppose Ulan is doing, keeping these close to hand? Now, what was I saying?"

"That Ulan is a great khirnari."

"Ah, yes. One of the greatest. That's why he opposes Klia, not because he dislikes her, or the Tir. If it had somehow benefited his clan to give Klia what she wants, we'd be home in Skala by now with his blessings. Ah, here's something else! Looks like a dispatch box." Seregil held it up. It was the right size, but utterly smooth, with no sign of a lock hole.

"I'm guessing what we're after is in here, if it still exists at all.

Either way, we're not getting our hands on it. This is held shut with magic."

"We should have brought Thero—" Alec broke off, hearing the sound of approaching footsteps. Hissing a quick warning, he ducked out of sight behind the door. Seregil rolled silently under the bed and Alec made a mental note; if he ever suspected intruders in Aurenen, that was the first place to look. Their unseen visitor paused a moment in the courtyard, then walked back the way he'd come.

"So much for your Bash'wai protector," Seregil complained, brushing dust from his coat as he emerged. "Not a whiff of 'em, eh?"

"I'm afraid not. What do you suppose that means?"

"Who knows, with the Bash'wai."

He moved to the sitting room off the bedchamber. After a few moments he emerged with a wrinkled sheet of parchment held triumphantly aloft. "This just might be of use," he whispered, examining it with the lightstone. "It's the beginning of a letter, but a large splotch of ink has spoiled the page after a few lines. He's not so fastidious as I thought, to leave this lying about."

Alec craned his neck for a look. "That's not Aurenfaie lettering."

"Plenimaran." Seregil's brows shot up as he scanned the first lines. "Well now, how small the world is sometimes. The salutation is to one 'honored Raghar Ashnazai. »

"Ashnazai? Kin to Vargul Ashnazai?"

"Oh, yes. Plenimaran families are very close-knit, especially the powerful ones. Necromancers, spies, diplomats, influence peddlers; what a charming lot the Ashnazai must be around the supper table."

He replaced the parchment where he'd found it. "Well, it's better than nothing. At least we know whom he's dealing with. We'd better get back now. I imagine Thero's running low on tricks. They do require a sense of humor, after all."

Returning to the central courtyard, they parted ways and entered by different doors.

Apparently Seregil had been right about Thero, Alec thought, finding the wizard in conversation with a small group that included their host, Klia, and the khirnari of Khatme. Adzriel and Saaban were with them, too, and everyone looked decidedly tense. Lhaar a Iriel was actually shaking a finger at Thero.

"There you are," Klia muttered as he stepped in beside her. "Poor Thero could do with a bit of support."

"But I've seen Aurenfaie themselves use magic for innocent entertainment," the embattled wizard was saying. "I assure you, I meant no offense."

"Fools and children, perhaps," Lhaar a Iriel retorted sternly. "The power granted by Aura is a sacred thing, not to be toyed with."

"Is laughter not a gift of Aura, too, Lhaar a Iriel?" Ulan i Sathil asked, coming to his guest's defense.

"Indeed, I've spent a good many rainy afternoons doing such tricks for the children of my own household," Saaban added.

Alec stifled a grin. "Dear me, Thero, whatever have you been up to? " The wizard pointedly ignored him.

"Come now, this is my house and I declare no harm done," Ulan said. "We must be tolerant of one another's differences, must we not?"

The Khatme gave him a dark look and glided away.

Ulan winked at Thero. "Pay her no mind, Thero i Procepios. The Khatme are of a different mind on so many things. I am honored that you should exercise your talents for the benefit of my guests. I pray you do not let her harshness reflect insult on my house."

Thero bowed deeply. "If I have in any way repaid your magnanimous hospitality, Khirnari, then I am satisfied."

Alec remained with Thero as the rest of the group dispersed.

"I was actually enjoying myself, until the Khatme took me to task," Thero admitted. "You remember that trick Nysander had of making the wine jugs sing? I believe I carried it off rather well." Pausing, he slipped Alec the hand sign for "any luck?"

Alec nodded, then froze as the hint of a familiar scent tickled his nostrils.

"What is it?" Thero asked.

"I–I'm not certain." The smell of the Bash'wai, if that is what it had been, was already gone. Alec turned, sniffing the air.

"What are you doing?" Seregil asked with a bemused smirk, coming over to join them.

"I thought I smelled it again, just for a second," Alec murmured.

"Smelled what?" asked Thero.

"Some people see the Bash'wai. Alec claims to smell them," Seregil explained.

"It's like a heavy perfume," Alec said, still sniffing.

"Really?" Thero glanced around. "I'd be hard put to pick out a ghost here, what with all the other aromas."

"It could have been a Ykarnan." Seregil pointed out several people wearing black tunics and sea-green sen'gai. "They favor a very distinctive scent."

"You're probably right," Alec said. "Say, have any of you seen Lord Torsin? I expected him to be with Klia, but I don't see any sign of him."

"He left," Thero told him. "Left? How long ago?" Seregil asked. "It was just after you two went, I think." "Seregil, Alec!" Klia called, waving to them over the heads of the crowd. "Our host has asked you to play." Alec grinned. "Singing for our supper again? Just like old times."