Shadows Return - Part 21
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Part 21

Alec struggled harder, but it was no use. Those colorless lips closed around his finger and sucked, like an infant at the breast. It had felt just like this when Luthas had sucked on his finger for a pacifier.

The thing's eyes opened wide, and Alec was stunned to see that they were the same dark blue as his own but empty as a doll's. "What is it?" he gasped.

"A rhekaro, Alec. A being created through alchemy."

The rhekaro thing released Alec's finger and he wrenched his hand away in disgust, clutching it to his chest. The rhekaro slowly uncurled and wobbled to its feet.

It was no larger than a five-year-old child, perfectly formed in every way, except for the white skin and matted ma.s.s of white hair, and the lack of genitals between its thighs. Once on its feet, it just stood there beside its creator, without the slightest hint of animation in its expression.

"Why would you create such a thing?" Alec asked, aghast. There was something horribly familiar about that blank mask of a face.

"That is not your concern. You can take him to the bedchamber now, Khenir. See that he's properly bathed and fed. I won't be needing either of you tonight."

Khenir got Alec on his feet and tried to help him limp away toward the stairs. After a few steps, however, Alec's legs gave out under him. One of the guards carried him up the stairs.

Alec suffered the indignity, staring back over his shoulder at the strange white thing that had been fashioned from his own essences.

You shall father a child of no woman...

"No," Alec whispered brokenly. O please, Illior, Dalna, don't let this be the meaning! O please, Illior, Dalna, don't let this be the meaning! He knew why that thing's face had looked familiar. The same visage had looked up at him from the washbasin when he was small. The thing looked like him! He knew why that thing's face had looked familiar. The same visage had looked up at him from the washbasin when he was small. The thing looked like him!

They reached a landing and stopped at a door there. More stairs led up to an open door. Through it he could see the dried carca.s.ses and bags hanging from the workshop ceiling.

Khenir took out a key and opened the door. Beyond lay a room very much like the one Alec had been kept in all these weeks, one that must be directly under some part of the workshop upstairs. This cell had a proper bed against the far wall and a small bathing tub full of steaming water.

Khenir had the guard carry Alec straight to the tub and lower him into it. "You don't smell very good, my friend." He handed Alec a rough cloth. "Wash yourself. I'll go fetch your supper."

He and the guard went out and Alec heard the key grate in the lock.

The tub wasn't large enough to stretch out in. Huddled there with his knees under his chin, he dipped the washcloth and scrubbed weakly at his face and chest, then squeezed it over his greasy, tangled hair, longing for a sliver of soap. A little lantern on a hook by the door cast a warm glow over the room. Alec was glad of that; he couldn't have stood being locked away in the dark.

It was no use. He didn't have the strength to do any more. Leaning back against the side of the tub, he tucked his chin to get a look at the wound on his chest.

It was tiny, and seemed to be healing well. The skin around it wasn't even bruised. He wondered if the golden tap had gone all the way to his heart, and if Yhakobin's strange purifications had aided the healing.

He turned and scrutinized the door. This one had a keyhole! Alec's lips stretched in a thin, slightly crooked grin as he looked around again at the host of new possibilities the spa.r.s.e little room offered to a trained eye.

His gaolers were getting careless.

Khenir returned with a tray, towels, and a large book under one arm. He set them on the bed and locked the door from the inside, then knelt by the tub.

"Is that more meat?" Alec asked hopefully.

"Yes. Do you need some help?" Khenir asked, noting the abandoned washcloth.

Alec colored and glanced away. "Yes. What did he do to me? I can hardly move!"

"He bled you. We gave you what nourishment we could but he kept you asleep, to make it easier on you."

Alec grimaced. "How thoughtful. So, do you know what that creature is, or what it's for? I thought he said he was going to make some kind of medicine, not a monster!"

"I'm a slave, just like you. Ilban does not confide in me." He scrubbed gently at Alec's back. "But he did agree to let me care for you here."

"You asked him?"

"Yes. And look!" Khenir rose and went to the tray, lifting a bowl for Alec to see. "Boiled chicken and turnips! And he's sent you a new book to pa.s.s the time."

"He must be very pleased with me." Alec's mouth was already watering again, in spite of the broth still warming his belly.

Khenir finished with Alec's bath and helped him into a clean robe. When Alec was settled in bed with his back to the headboard, Khenir lifted the tray onto his lap.

Alec let out a small moan. Besides the chicken dish, there was warm bread, a wedge of blue-mottled cheese, and a mug of cider, too. But he didn't dare eat any of it. "What if it's drugged again?"

"I'm sure it's not," Khenir a.s.sured him. "I watched the cook myself as he prepared it. As Ilban said, he doesn't need you at the moment."

"But when he does?" Alec c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at the other man. "Will you tell me when the drugs go in again?"

"I swear to you, I didn't know!"

Alec shrugged, then grabbed up the horn spoon and dug in. Food had never tasted so good.

As he mopped the last precious drops of gravy from the bowl with the bread, he said without looking up, "You have the key to this room."

"Yes."

Alec let the pause that followed ripen.

Khenir's eyes filled with fear. "By the Light, Alec, don't ask that of me!"

"But I can can get away, if I get the chance. I could help you, too." get away, if I get the chance. I could help you, too."

Just then they heard the sound of footsteps crossing the workshop overhead, then the low murmur of a deep voice.

"Keep your voice down! He'll hear you," Khenir whispered, trembling now. "I've survived this long with both my feet, Alec. I mean to keep them. There are slave takers out there, just waiting for fools like you. Not to mention the common, everyday folk who'd grab you in a heartbeat, for the bounty. I told you before; you won't get half a mile with that face of yours, and that yellow hair. And even if you did, all you'd have to do is open your mouth and they'd know what you are. No, don't think of it. You're too weak to get out of bed, much less out of the house."

"So you've just given up?" Alec hissed back. "I can't! There's someone..." He caught himself and held his tongue. "You have the key in your pocket, right? I can make it look like I attacked you, overpowered you."

"You don't know what you're asking," Khenir replied miserably, unable to meet his eye. "I'm sorry. So sorry. Go to sleep." He hurried from the room, locking the door securely behind him.

"At least you left me the lamp," Alec muttered. With light, he could make a thorough search, take the bed apart if he had to, to find something to work the lock. He tried to get up, but a wave of dizziness overtook him, and he fell back against the pillow. Yhakobin's foul blood magic had left him too weak to move.

His eye fell on the tray Khenir had left behind. The horn spoon still lay in the empty soup bowl! He grabbed it and tested its strength between his hands. It was thick and st.u.r.dy.

Had it been an oversight, or was this Khenir's way of helping him? It didn't really matter to him. Alec found a loose seam in the side of the mattress and slipped the spoon inside. A little sleep and I'll be fine, A little sleep and I'll be fine, he thought, eyelids already slipping down. he thought, eyelids already slipping down.

He slept deeply and dreamed that the door swung open and Seregil was outside, grinning that crooked grin of his and gesturing for Alec to hurry. He started awake, expecting the door to be open, and felt crushed when it wasn't. He had no idea what hour it was, but the tray was gone. His throat and mouth burned with thirst, and he was glad to find a fresh pitcher of water beside the bed. He took small sips until his belly was steady enough, then drank half of what was left in long, thirsty gulps.

Feeling a bit better, he climbed stiffly out of bed and began a search, looking for anything that might help him get out of this wretched room. The bed was solidly pegged and the bed ropes were too thick to get free without a knife. He gave the frame a frustrated yank, then stopped, heart missing a beat.

The spoon. Did I dream that, too? He hurriedly felt along the side of the mattress, looking for the loose seam, and found it. With a shaky sigh of relief, he felt the spoon's hard outline through the coa.r.s.e ticking. He hurriedly felt along the side of the mattress, looking for the loose seam, and found it. With a shaky sigh of relief, he felt the spoon's hard outline through the coa.r.s.e ticking.

"Thank the Light!" he whispered, leaving it there for now.

Other than that, he had a covered toilet bucket and the water pitcher.

Further searching only left him frustrated. He used the bucket, and then settled on the bed with the spoon, trying to break it lengthways into usable splinters.

He was still at it when the sound of a key in the lock startled him badly. He hadn't heard anyone coming. He managed to stuff it back into the mattress and pull a quilt down over the rent just as the door opened. He threw himself back against the pillow and tried hard to look as if he'd just woken up.

Khenir came in, carrying a covered tray. "Ah, you're awake at last."

"It's morning?" Alec asked.

"You missed morning by a long shot and the sun's down again. You slept the day away, my friend. I tried to wake you earlier, but you were too deeply asleep. I have supper for you, if you're ready."

Alec's belly let out a very loud grumble as he caught the scent. A thick slice of brown bread was covered in melted cheese, sharp and tangy. And there were two apples, and a mug of tea slaked with cream.

He fell on the food like a starving dog again, too hungry to be embarra.s.sed. Khenir sat on the end of the bed and smiled, watching him. "I can bring you more. Ilban said you're to have all you want. But you must drink all the water in the pitcher first, then more. You gave him quite a lot of your blood."

"Gave? What will he do with me, now that he's got his-what is it called?"

"A rhekaro. And I'm sure I don't know. But he's been locked in his shop with it since the unearthing and hasn't eaten or slept. Whatever it is, he seems enchanted by it, even if it doesn't have wings."

"Wings? Oh yes, he said that, didn't he?" Alec rubbed at his eyes. "It all seems like something I dreamed."

"It's real, Alec. Here, give me the tray and I'll fetch you some more food."

"No, I'm full for now." Alec lay back and threw an arm over his eyes. He wondered if he should thank Khenir for leaving the spoon. But what if it had only been an oversight? He wasn't sure he wanted to know. "If he's got what he wanted from me, do you think he'll sell me to someone else?" The thought had haunted him since he'd woken up.

"Oh, I don't think so. You're far too rare. That's good, though, really. You're lucky your first master is a kind one. Be satisfied with that."

Never, thought Alec, but he didn't feel like arguing with Khenir right now. thought Alec, but he didn't feel like arguing with Khenir right now.

They talked a little, then Khenir wished him good night, giving him a quick kiss on the brow. Before Alec could react, he was out the door.

Shaking his head, Alec levered himself out of bed again. He was still unsteady, but too rested to sleep anymore. After a few turns around the room, he settled down to read the book while the lantern burned, and shut his eyes when it finally failed.

He did sleep then, and dreamed of Seregil again, coming to save him.

"You always find me," he said, throwing himself into his lover's arms.

"Not always, tali. And when I don't, you take care of yourself," Seregil whispered in his ear.

Suddenly a scream ripped the air around them. Seregil was gone, and in his place stood Alec's father, maimed and b.l.o.o.d.y as he'd been the day Asengai's torturer finished him off.

"Father!" Alec cried out, fifteen again.

Another cry woke him and brought him bolt upright in the bed. It was coming from the workshop overhead. Terrified and disoriented, Alec shuddered uncontrollably as the cry came again, a high-pitched, ragged screech, like the sound of a wounded rabbit. But it was no coney Yhakobin was tormenting up there; it was the pale creature.

He lay back against the pillow, heart hammering under his aching wound. It's not a person. It's a monster. An abomination. It doesn't matter. It's not a person. It's a monster. An abomination. It doesn't matter.

As the cries grew louder and more frantic, he pressed the pillow over his ears and curled into a ball, trying to stop the rising rush of horror and pity the sounds wrung from his heart.

Unnatural the thing might be, but hearing anything suffer like that was unbearable! And what monster made sounds like that?

The cries subsided gradually to childish sobbing, overlaid by Yhakobin's low, dispa.s.sionate voice.

Is it over? Please Dalna, let it be over!

Another scream dragged Alec from the bed. He stumbled to the door and beat on it with his fists. "Stop hurting it, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d! Leave it alone."

Mercifully, the cries did stop. Alec slid slowly down the locked door and came to rest with his head on his knees, unable to stop shaking. He sat there on the cold stone floor, feeling more miserable and impotent than ever.

Since I listened to my father dying...

"No," he whispered miserably. "It's not human. It's not even real-"

But the whisper of the oracle stole into his mind again. A child of no woman A child of no woman...

He pressed his fists to his temples, shaking his head. "No! No, no, no!"

All went silent upstairs, but he stayed where he was, straining his ears for any sound. Presently he heard footsteps approaching and a key thrust into the lock. He crawled away as the door swung open. It was Ahmol.

"Ilban say come."

Alec went cold all over, but he was too weak to fight as the man lifted him effortlessly and climbed the stairs to the workroom.

The pale creature lay on the slate table, its slight body bound down with wide leather straps. The alchemist was washing his hands in a basin at the end of the table, still clad in his leather ap.r.o.n. The duke was there, too, looking rather ill. Two warders stood guard at the door.

"Ah, Alec. I need you. I've had some unexpected complications with this one."

Alec approached slowly, apprehension growing with every step. He'd reached the edge of the table before he could make himself look down at the creature. When he did, all his worst fears were realized.

At some point, Yhakobin had washed the filth from it. Its pale skin was a dull, dust grey. The matted white hair had been cleaned and raggedly shorn. What was left wasn't white, after all, but the palest silver, like moonlight on sea mist.

But Alec only noticed those details in pa.s.sing, focusing instead on the atrocities that had been practiced on that little body. Where the left eye had been there was only a slanted, empty socket, weeping yellow fluid. Three fingers were gone from the left hand, and strips of skin had been flayed from its arms, legs, and chest. There was no blood, just torn white flesh, like that of a fish, and a little white fluid. Alec's stomach turned over as he noted the neat row of covered jars arrayed on a small table beside the alchemist.

"Why are you doing this?" he whispered, unable to look away from the ravaged little body. And it was gazing back at him with its single remaining eye. Alec thought he saw a sort of hopeless beseeching there, though otherwise the rest of the face was a masklike as before. But that eye! It was so much like that of a real child's that it broke his heart.

"How can you do this?" Alec demanded, glaring up at Yhakobin now. "Why did you make it, just to kill it?"

Yhakobin shook his head as he wiped his hands on a cloth. "I must admit, I did not expect it to have a voice. The writings indicated quite the opposite. I can only a.s.sume that your purification was not as successful as I'd thought."

"This-" Alec swallowed hard. "This is my my fault? I'm not the one cutting it to pieces!" fault? I'm not the one cutting it to pieces!"

"The rhekaro is not a pet, or a plaything, Alec," Yhakobin remonstrated gently, as if speaking to a stupid child. "They are created to be used."