Traitor's Moon

42 MISDIRECTION

Beka rode steadily through the night, avoiding the few Akhendi villagers she encountered along the way. She made no effort to cover her trail, counting on misdirection to protect her friends.

The rain continued, a cold, inexorable mist that seemed to seep right down to her bones. As the mountains loomed closer ahead, she finally gave up the ruse and turned aside onto a side road that twisted away to the east through the forest. By late the next day she was exhausted and utterly lost.

Ambling along, she spotted a game trail leading up a slope and followed it, hoping to find some shelter for the night. Just before dark, she found a dry patch of earth beneath a fallen fir tree and made camp there. Lightning had struck the tree sometime recently, shattering the trunk but not severing it, so that the thick top hung to the ground at an angle, creating a sheltered den among the lower boughs. After dragging in her pack, she dug a pit with her knife and built a little fire to stave off the chill.

Just for a few hours, she told herself, huddling close to the flames. The heat quickly baked the damp from her tunic and breeches. Wrapping herself in her blanket, she leaned against the rough bark behind her. A thin waxing moon showed itself between torn shreds of

clouds, a reminder that in just two days the Iia'sidra would decide the success or failure of all their work here.

"By the Four," she whispered. "Just let us get Klia home alive and I'll be satisfied."

As she drifted off to sleep, however, it was Nyal who filled her thoughts, tingeing her dreams with an uneasy mix of longing and doubt.

The grip of a strong hand on her shoulder startled Beka awake at dawn. There was just light enough to make out Nyal kneeling beside her, face inches from her own.

"What are you doing here?" she gasped, wondering if she was still dreaming.

"I'm sorry, talia," he murmured, and Beka's heart sank as she saw the armed men behind him.

She pulled back, berating herself bitterly for being so easily caught.

"Beka, please—" Nyal tried again, but she shoved him away and scrambled to her feet. How had they gotten so close without her hearing them?

"Their horses are here, but there's no sign of them," a Ra'basi told Nyal.

"You son of a bitch!" Beka snarled, rocked to the core as realization sank in. "You led them here!"

"Where are they, Beka?" he asked.

She searched his eyes for some sign of hope but found none. Leaning closer, as if to confide in him, she spat in his face. "Garshil ke'menios!"

Nyal's mouth set in an angry line as he wiped his cheek with his sleeve. "There are others out looking for them, Captain, Haman among them."

Beka turned her back on him, saying nothing.

"We'll get nothing out of her," Nyal told the others. "Korious, you and your men get her back to the city. Akara, you wait until it's light enough, then scour the surrounding area for signs of them. I'll backtrack, then catch up with you."

"Very efficient, Ra'basi," Beka muttered as they stripped her of weapons and tied her hands.

"I assure you, Captain, you'll be treated with respect by these men," Nyal assured her. "As for your friends, it would be better for everyone concerned if I'm the one to find them. They're both in danger: Seregil and your almost-brother."

Beka sneered at him, not allowing him to play on her fears. "Go to hell, traitor."

The mountain road grew worse as Seregil and Alec went on. Bare stone peaks loomed ever closer, stark against the cloudy sky.

They reached the second village just before noon and found it as deserted as the first. No people meant no fresh horses, and Seregil's mare was limping badly.

Dismounting in the overgrown square, he ran a hand over the back leg she was favoring and found an angry swelling at the hock.

"Shit!" he hissed, gentling her as she shied. "She's bog spavined."

"The gelding is still sound," Alec told him, inspecting Seregil's other horse. One of Alec's horses, a bay mare, was cow hocked and probably wouldn't cover much rough country without coming up lame sooner or later, too.

Seregil shifted his saddle onto the gelding, then pointed up toward a distant notch between two crags. "We should hit the trail I want a few miles further on, inside the magicked area. You can't see it yet from here, but our pass is right up there. There's a Dravnian tower near the top. If these nags hold out, we might just make it. I don't want to be sleeping in the open tonight. There are wolves up there, and bandits."

"And smugglers?"

"If so, I hope they're smuggling horses. I suspect the war's put an end to that, though. Not much point in hauling goods to the coast if there aren't any Skalan night ships waiting for them."

"Too bad. I was hoping to meet that uncle of yours I keep hearing about. What are you going to do about that lame horse?"

In answer, Seregil smacked her hard on the rump and watched as she trotted awkwardly out of sight between the deserted houses. "Come on. Let's see how far we get before we lose that bay of yours."

A mile or so past the village Seregil spotted a carved post half hidden by twining creeper and brush. "This is where you get blindfolded, my friend."

Alec took out a strip of cloth and tied it over his eyes. "There, I'm in your hands, Guide."

"Not in quite the fashion I like," Seregil smirked, taking Alec's reins and setting off again.

Alec leaned forward and braced himself against the stirrups as the ground grew steadily steeper. He knew by the smells around him that they were still in the woods, but the echoes of the horse's hooves spoke of a narrow gap. From time to time he heard the rattle of loose stone, and for one heart-stopping moment his horse stumbled, scrabbling wildly for purchase. He clawed at the blindfold, terrified of being thrown off or crushed under a fallen horse.

"It's all right." Seregil's hand locked around his Wrist, drawing his hand away.

"Damn it, Seregil, how much longer?" Alec gasped.

"Another mile or so. It levels out soon, I think."

The riding did get easier, but presently Alec noticed that he was hearing echoes only on their left. A cold wind sighed steadily against his right cheek. "Are we by a cliff?" he asked, tensing again.

"Not too near," Seregil assured him.

"Then why aren't you talking?"

"I'm looking for the cutoff to the pass. Keep quiet and let me concentrate."

After another small eternity he heard Seregil let out a pent-up breath. "I found our trail. It won't be long now, I promise."

The air grew cooler around them, and Alec smelled the spicy resin of pines and cedar. "Can I take this blindfold off?" he asked, as his earlier fears gave way to outright boredom. "I'd like to see what it looks like, with the magic."

"It will make you sick," Seregil warned. "Just hang on a bit longer. We're nearly—oh, Illior! Alec, get your head down!"

Before Alec could obey, his horse wheeled sharply and he heard a sharp buzz close to his ear. Then something struck him hard in the chest and thigh, knocking the breath from his body in a startled grunt. Seregil yelled something and Alec's horse reared. Then he was falling, falling—

The moment Seregil spotted the ambushers, he knew it was already too late.

Rounding a bend between two large outcroppings, he and Alec had come out into a narrow stretch of trail cut into a steep, sparsely wooded slope that slanted down to a riverbed several hundred feet below. Just ahead, the narrow cut up the mountainside that lead to the pass was gone, obliterated by a massive rock slide. The archers had taken positions up among the rocks, where they had a clear view of the killing floor below. Unable to go right or left, Seregil

could only retreat the way he'd come and hope to get around the bend before they both got an arrow in the back. But as he wheeled his mount, dragging Alec's around by the head rein, he saw more men standing on the stones he'd just passed. The trap was sprung.

"Get your head down!" he shouted again, but it was too late for that, too.

Alec's bay reared, screaming, with an arrow protruding from its chest. Still blindfolded, Alec was thrown off, falling toward the downhill slope. Seregil just had time to register the shafts embedded in his friend's shoulder and leg before Alec disappeared from view.

"Alec!" Seregil threw himself off his horse to follow but four more ambushers leaped from the scant brush just above him and wrestled him to the ground. He fought wildly, desperate to escape, to find Alec and get him away—

If he were still alive

– but he was overmatched. His captors pinned him on his belly, grinding his face into the dirt, then flipped him onto his back. Someone grasped him roughly by the hair and yanked his head back. A grey-haired man leaned over him, dagger in hand, and Seregil closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable slash across his throat.

Instead, the man sliced open the front of Seregil's tunic, the tip of the knife scraping across the steel rings of the mail shirt beneath. Reaching in, he yanked the chain free and held up the Corruth's ring. A younger man leaned into view, but before Seregil could get a proper look at him, the side of his head exploded in pain and the world went black.

Fear blotted out all else as Alec hit the ground and continued falling, tumbling head over heels. He'd always had a horror of falling, and doing it blind drove him into a panic. He fetched up at last against something that crushed the air from his lungs. Only then, as he lay sprawled on his side, bruised all over and gasping for air, was he able to give proper attention to the fiery pain lancing through his left thigh and right shoulder, and to a stabbing sensation just under his ribs. This last proved to be the hilt of his sword, caught underneath him at an awkward angle.

Thank the Four for that, at least, he thought, shifting the weapon a little so he could breathe.

Somewhere above he heard the sounds of men calling back and forth to one another, apparently looking for him.

Magic or no magic, he couldn't stand waiting like some blind, wounded animal. Tearing off the hated blindfold, he blinked at the sudden brightness and saw—ferns.

He could see perfectly well, after all, though the slight prickle of magic across his skin told him he was not clear of the guarded zone yet.

Shouts from up the slope warned that there was no time to ponder the matter further. Raising his head a little, he found himself lying in a dense patch of tall, feathery fern at the base of an ancient birch tree. From here, he could make out the trail several hundred yards above him and a few men moving about there. Outlaws, he guessed, seeing that they wore no sen'gai. As he'd feared, a few others were making their way down in his general direction.

His right shoulder throbbed again as he ducked down. Freshly scarred chain showed through a rent in the arm of his tunic where an arrow had scored a glancing blow.

The wound in his leg was more serious. A shaft had pierced his thigh and lodged there. Sometime during his fall the feathered end had snapped off, but the steel head still protruded a scant few inches below his lower trouser lacing. Not giving himself time to think, he grasped the shaft just below the head and yanked it out.

Then he fainted.

When he came to, someone was dragging him over rough ground by his bad shoulder. The pain in his leg had risen to exquisite intensity and he greyed out again. When his mind cleared, he was lying mercifully still, cradled in strong arms against a hard chest.

"Seregil, I thought—" But the eyes close above his were hazel green, not grey.

"Stay quiet," Nyal ordered, peering up over the edge of the gully where they lay. He was bareheaded and wore dull-colored clothing that blended in with the evening shadows lengthening across the forest floor.

Footsteps crunched over dead leaves nearby, then faded away in the opposite direction.

After a moment Nyal crouched down beside him and checked the wound on Alec's leg. "It's clean, but it needs binding. Stay here and keep your eyes shut if you can."

"I can see," Alec told him.

The Ra'basi blinked in surprise, but there was no time for

explanations. Bent low, he hurried off down the gully, vanishing quickly in the shadowy underbrush.

The ambushers seemed to have given up on finding him for the moment. Looking up the slope, Alec saw no sign of movement. A few moments later Nyal was back with his bow and a large wayfarer's pouch.

"It's not bleeding too badly," he muttered, pulling out a flask and a plain sen'gai. "Here, have a pull on this," he ordered, handing Alec the flask.

The strong spirit burned Alec's throat, and he took a second gulp, then craned his neck, nervously keeping watch while Nyal bound hasty compresses over the arrow holes.

"There, that should hold you for now." Nyal clapped him on the shoulder. "Now, let's see if you can walk on it. Seregil needs us." Standing, he extended his hand.

Alec grasped it and pulled himself up. His leg still hurt like hell, but the drink, together with the pressure of the bandage, made it just bearable. "Who tracked us, besides you?"

"No one but me," the Ra'basi replied, supporting Alec with a hand under his arm. "No other tracks cross yours. They were waiting for you. I'm only sorry I didn't catch up with you sooner. They were probably trying to kill your horse when your leg got in the way."

"And this?" Alec said doubtfully, showing him the tear in his tunic.

"Not everyone is as good a shot as you, my friend."

Alec was sweating with pain by the time they reached the ground just below the level of the trail. Lying on their bellies, they peered up over the edge and found it deserted.

"Stay here," Nyal whispered. Keeping low, he darted up over the edge of the bank, heading for Alec's dead horse. A man sprang from a low clump of brush and rushed at the Ra'basi.

"Look out!" Alec called.

Nyal whirled and threw himself sideways, rolling clear. The other man dove at him again, only to catch a sharp blow to the face that felled him like an ox. He went down without a sound.

Nyal tied and gagged the man, then coolly returned to his task, pulling Alec's bow and quiver free of the saddle. The bowstring had snapped in the fall and swung uselessly from one tip as Nyal scrambled back down to where he waited.

"I hope you have an extra," he said, thrusting the Radly into Alec's hands. "Mine won't fit this."

Alec took a fresh string from his belt pouch and stood to bend the bow. Bracing one limb tip against his foot, he pushed down on the upper one and let out a grunt as pain flared in his shoulder again. Nyal took the bow and fitted the string into place.

"Can you draw?"

Alec flexed his arm again. "I think so."

"And you can see?" Nyal said, shaking his head in amazement.

"It's something to do with the Bash'wai, I think," Alec offered, thinking of the strange farewell they'd given him.

"They certainly must have taken a liking to you. Come on. Let's find Seregil."

Dusk was coming on quickly now, and they spotted the yellow gleam of firelight high above the slide area choking the pass. Skirting the ruined trail, Nyal led him up a winding track that brought them out on a shelf of rock overlooking the top of a cliff. Eight men stood on a level stretch of ground near the edge. Several held torches, giving Alec enough light to shoot by. Behind them Seregil slumped on his knees and elbows, hands bound in front of him. His head was down, hair in his face. A man stood over him with his own sword while the others argued among themselves.

"It's not right!" one man said angrily.

"It's not your place to question," a younger man retorted, speaking with the authority of a leader. "There's no dishonor in it."

So even Aurenfaie bandits, fretted over atui? Alec eased an arrow from his quiver and set it to the string. Beside him, Nyal did the same. Just then, several of the men threw up their arms and walked a few paces off. Seregil fought weakly as two others grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him toward the cliff, clearly meaning to throw him over.

Alec brought his bow up and let fly, praying the shaft didn't find Seregil instead. He needn't have worried. His aim was off and it struck the ground harmlessly just in front of Seregil's would-be killers. Startled, they jumped back and Seregil twisted free, scrambling back from the edge. Most of the ambushers scattered, ducking for cover. Nyal hit two of them before they'd gotten ten feet. The leader grabbed for Seregil and Alec shot again, this time hitting his mark square in the chest. Seregil saw his chance and dashed away into the shadows.

Alec managed to take down one more man before the rest disappeared.

"This way." Nyal led him down another rock-strewn track, supporting him when Alec's bad leg gave out. The sound of horses came to them on the quiet night air as they reached the cliff, echoing up from the direction of the main trail.

"Damn, they got away!"

"How many?" wondered Nyal.

"Enough to be trouble if we don't get out of here fast," said a familiar voice overhead., «

Alec looked up to find Seregil half hidden behind a boulder. He emerged and slid down the loose slope to join them, hands still tied but clutched now around the hilt of his sword.

"I take it that you can see?" he asked, giving Alec a thoughtful look.

Alec shrugged.

"How many were there?" Nyal asked.

"I didn't have a chance to take a count before they knocked me out," Seregil replied, leading them back to where the dead lay. There were five bodies.

"Just our luck, running into bandits," Alec muttered.

Seregil rubbed at a new bruise developing over his right cheekbone. "They did have the good grace to debate about killing me. Some of them didn't like the idea. They thought they'd killed you, though, Alec, and so did I, for that matter. When I saw you go off your horse like that—" Extending a hand to Nyal, he said almost grudgingly, "I guess I should be glad to see you. It seems we owe you our lives."

Nyal clasped hands with him. "Perhaps you'll repay me by speaking to Beka on my behalf. I imagine she's still cursing my name."

"So you found her, too?" Alec groaned, feeling a fool to be so easily tracked after all their planning. "Where is she?"

"Not as far away as she thought. We caught up with her at dawn this morning, less than ten miles from here."

«We?» Seregil's eyes narrowed.

"The Iia'sidra sent me with a search party," Nyal replied. "I volunteered, actually. When it became clear that others suspected where you might go, I thought it would be better if I found you first. Tracking her, I saw where you parted ways and guessed that you might make for this smuggler's pass, not knowing it was blocked. I made certain that my compatriots were occupied with her, then came looking for you."

"Our little ruse didn't fool you?"

Nyal grinned, "Fortunately for you, my companions don't have quite the eye for tracking that I do. An unladen horse walks a bit differently than one carrying a man. You won't get through this way, you know."

"So I see," Seregil said, shaking his head. "I should have guessed about the pass. I just assumed the villages had died for lack of trade."

He bent over one of the bodies and pulled his poniard free from the dead man's chest. "I've managed to keep my promise, Adzriel," he muttered, wiping the blade clean on the dead man's tunic and slipping it back into his boot. Bending over another, he emptied the man's purse onto the ground.

"Ah, here it is!" he exclaimed, holding up Corruth's ring. "The chain's gone. Oh, well, what wisdom forbids, necessity dictates." He slipped it onto his finger and went on with his task.

Leaving the bodies for the crows, they made a circuit around the area and found three horses tethered in a stand of trees up the slope from the trail, still saddled.

"You take these," said Nyal. "Mine is hidden down near where I found you, Alec. There's another trail a mile or so back down the trail that will take you over to the coast. I'll set you on it, then head back to report that I found no sign of you. I don't suppose that will win me any favor with Beka, but it's a start."

Seregil laid a hand on his arm. "You haven't asked why we're out here."

The Ra'basi gave him an unreadable look. "If you wanted me to know, you'd have told me. I trust enough in your honor, and in Beka's, to know that you must have good reason for risking your life like this."

"Then you really don't know?" asked Alec.

"Even my ears aren't that long."

"Can you trust the men who have Beka?" Alec asked, anxious for Nyal to be off.

"Yes. They'll keep her safe. Hurry now! There are others hunting you."

"You're really letting us go?" Seregil asked again, unable to believe it.

The Ra'basi smiled. "I told you, I never intended to capture you. I came to protect Beka if I could, and for her sake I help you now."

"What about atui? Where's your loyalty to your clan, to the Iia'sidra?"

Nyal shrugged, his smile now tinged with sadness. "Those of us

who travel far from our fai'thasts see the world differently than those who don't, wouldn't you say?"

Seregil gave the man a last, searching look, then nodded. "Show us this trail of yours, Nyal."

The night was clear and cold, with enough of a moon to travel easily by as they rode back the way they'd come.,»

Seregil knew of no other trails in the area, but presently Nyal reined in and led them on foot through a seemingly untouched stretch of woods to a little pond. Just past a jumbled pile of rocks on its far bank, they struck a trail that disappeared up the hillside.

"Be careful," Nyal advised. "It's a good route, well marked once you've followed it for a few miles, but treacherous in places, and home to wolves and dragons. Aura watch over you both."

"And you," Seregil returned. "I hope we meet again, Ra'basi, and under happier circumstances."

"As do I." Nyal pulled a flask from his pouch and handed it to Alec. "You'll be needing this, I think. It's been an honor to know you, Alec i Amasa of the Hazadrielfaie. I'll do all I can to keep your almost-sister safe, whether she wants me to or not."

With that, he melted away into the shadows. Soon they heard the beat of his horse's hooves fading rapidly away down the road.

The trail was as bad as Nyal had warned. Steep and uneven, it wound through gullies and across streams. There was no place to go if they were ambushed here.

It made for hard riding, and though Alec made no complaint,

Seregil saw him take several quick swigs from the flask Nyal had

• given him. He was about to suggest stopping for the night when

Alec's horse suddenly lost her footing and stumbled down a rocky

slope, nearly going down on top of her rider.

Alec managed to stay on, but Seregil heard his strangled cry of pain. "We'll make camp there," Seregil said, pointing to an overhang just ahead.

Tethering their mounts on a loose rein in case of wolves, they crawled in under the overhang and spread their stolen blankets.

It was a cold vigil, watching the moon arc slowly to the west. They could hear the hunting cries of wolves in the distance, together with occasional sounds nearer by.

Tired as he was, Seregil couldn't sleep. Instead, he pondered the

ambush, wondering how a force of that size could have outflanked them in this country.

"Those weren't bandits, Alec," he muttered, fidgeting restlessly with his belt knife. "But how could anyone track us down fast enough to set up an ambush?"

"Nyal said they didn't track us," Alec replied drowsily.

"What?"

"That's what I thought, too, but he claims he didn't see any signs of anyone else chasing us. They were there already, waiting for us."

"Then someone sent word! Someone who knew exactly where we'd be, except that I'm the only one who knew which pass we were heading for. I didn't even tell you. Your lightstone, Alec. Do you have it?"

With the aid of the light, he stripped the saddlebags from their stolen mounts and emptied them into a pile. There were several packets of food, including fresh bread and cheese.

"Soft fare, for bandits, wouldn't you say?" he noted, carrying some up to Alec. Returning to the pile, he sorted through the oddments there: shirts, clean linen, ajar of fire chips, a few simples.

"What's that?" asked Alec, pointing to something among the tangle of clothes. Hobbling out of the shelter, he pulled a wad of cloth free and held it to the light. "Bilairy's Balls!" gasped Seregil. It was an Akhendi sen'gai.

"It could be stolen," Alec said. Stirring through the clothes, he found no others.

Seregil went back to the horses and found a second one concealed under the arch of a saddle, just where he might have hidden such a thing.

"But they were going to kill you!" Alec gasped in disbelief. "Why would the Akhendi do that? And how did they find us?"

"By the Four!" Seregil tore a pouch from his belt and emptied it out beside the rest. There among the coins and trinkets lay Klia's Akhendi charm, still flecked with dried mud.

"I forgot I had this," he growled, clutching it. "I was going to take it back to Amali, then Magyana's letter came—"

"Damn. Someone could have used it to scry where we are."

Seregil nodded grimly. "But only if they knew I had it."

Alec took it and turned it over on his palm, holding it closer to the light. "Oh, no."

"What?"

"Oh, no no no!" Alec groaned. "This bracelet is the one Amali made for Klia, but the charm is different."

"How do you know that?" Seregil demanded.

"Because it's mine, the one that girl gave me in the first Akhendi village we stopped at. See this little crack in the wing?" He showed Seregil the fissure marring one wing. "That happened when I had the run-in with Emiel that turned it black. It's the same sort of carving as Klia's, though, and it was covered in mud when I found it. It never occurred to me to look more closely at it."

"Of course it didn't!" Seregil took it back. "The question is, how did it come to be white again for a while, and on Klia's bracelet? We saw Amali make this for her, and you still had yours then."

"Nyal must have given it to her," Alec told him, once more thrown into doubt about the Ra'basi.

"What was he doing with it?"

Alec told him of the day he'd met Emiel in the House of the Pillars and what had followed. "I got rid of it so you wouldn't find out. You were already upset enough and I didn't think Emiel was anyone who mattered. I was going to throw it away, but Nyal said it could be restored, and that he'd have an Akhendi see to it. I'd forgotten all about it."

Seregil scrubbed a hand over his face. "I can just guess which Akhendi! You've seen how these are made, and how the Akhendi can change one charm for another."

"The morning of the hunt, Amali and Rhaish came to see us off," Alec said, recalling that morning with jarring clarity. "I thought it was odd, since she'd been too ill to go out just the night before."

"Did he touch Klia?" Seregil asked. "Think, Alec. Did he get close enough to her to switch the charms somehow?"

"No," Alec replied slowly. "But she did."

"Amali?"

"Yes, she clasped hands with Klia. She was smiling."

Seregil shook his head. "But she wasn't at Viresse tupa that night."

"No, but Rhaish was."

Seregil clapped a hand to his forehead. "The rhui'auros said I already knew who the murderer is. That's because we saw it happen. You remember when Rhaish stumbled as he greeted Torsin? Torsin was dead a few hours later, and there was no charm on him. Someone had removed it. Rhaish must have seen the charm and known it could give him away. Knots and weaving, Alec. He must have taken the bracelet as soon as he'd poisoned him."

"And Klia helped Rhaish up when he stumbled," added Alec. "He left soon after, so it must have been then that he poisoned her." He

paused. "But wait Klia had on the same sort of charm. Why take Torsin's, and not hers?"

"I don't know. You're certain it was unchanged that morning?"

"Yes. I noticed it on her wrist at breakfast. So why change it for mine?"

"I don't know, but someone obviously changed it at some point, and they wouldn't have done so without reason." He stopped as realization struck.

"It could have been the husband and the wife together! 'Smiles conceal knives, isn't that what we were told? Bilairy's Codpiece, I've been blinder than a mole in a midnight shit heap. Rhaish didn't expect the Iia'sidra to vote his way. He never did. And if he'd learned of Torsin's secret negotiations, and what that meant for Akhendi— he needs to discredit the Viresse, and what better way than to show Ulan i Sathil to be a guest murderer? I, of all people, should have seen through that one!" He clasped his head in both hands. "If I'm ever, ever this stupid again, will you please boot me in the ass?"

"I haven't been any better," Alec said. "So Ulan is innocent, and Emiel, too?"

"Of murder, at least."

"Damn it, Seregil, we've got to warn Klia and Thero! After your own family, the Akhendi are the ones they're most likely to trust!"

"If we don't stop Korathan, it won't make much difference. We have to find him first."

Alec stared at him in disbelief. "Beka's heading right back into it, and we still don't know whose side Nyal is really on. Anyone who knows she was with us may assume that she knows whatever we know."

Seregil stared at the Akhendi charm. "I suspect she's in less danger now than we are. They found us with this once. They can again. Yet it's the one real piece of evidence we have against the Akhendi, so we can't afford to destroy it or throw it away. We'll just have to go on as fast and as cautiously as we can. Once we've dealt with Korathan, we'll figure out what to do."

"You mean we just leave her?" Alec kicked angrily at a loose stone. "This is really what it means to be a Watcher, isn't it?"

"Sometimes." For the first time in a very long time, Seregil felt the gulf of age and experience that lay between them, deep as the Cirna Canal. He gripped Alec gently by the back of the neck, knowing there was nothing he could say that would ease his friend's pain or his own. It was only the long years he'd spent with Nysander and Micum that allowed him to fend off visions of Beka dead, captured, lost.

"Come on," he said at last, helping Alec back to their makeshift shelter. "Thero chose her with good reason. You know that. Now get some sleep if you can. I'll keep watch."

He draped their blankets around Alec, settling him as comfortably as he could against the rough stone. Alec said nothing, but Seregil again sensed an unspoken welter of emotion.

Leaving him to his grief, he went out to keep watch. Duty was a fine and noble thing, most days. It was only at times like this one, when you noticed how it wore away at the soul, like water over stone.