"But he is is alive?" said Mic.u.m. alive?" said Mic.u.m.

"I'm quite sure of it."

"Well, what can you make of this, then?" Mic.u.m took the hilt from him and pressed the tooth into Thero's hand. "You can bet this b.a.s.t.a.r.d bled. If we can find him, maybe he can tell us where they were taken. Where is he?"

Chagrined at not having thought of it himself, Thero smiled up at Riagil. "I told you he's a clever man."

He clasped the tooth between his palms and whispered the spell again. This time the images came at once, fast and clear. The man who'd lost the tooth was alive and laughing with some others. By their speech, dark complexions, and beards, he knew them for Plenimarans. Some n.o.ble's own men-at-arms, by the look of them, or brigands. With Plenimarans, it was often difficult to tell the difference.

"They're calling him by name...yes, it's Notis." Thero strained to see more of the man's surroundings. The spell was a hard one, and made his head pound as he pushed himself to his limit. Sweat was beaded on his brow and upper lip by the time he opened his eyes. "Viresse! By the Light, the man is in Viresse, in some sort of barracks or on a ship. I can't tell which, but he's most certainly there. I recognize the harbor."

"What's a Plenimaran slaver doing there, of all places?" wondered Mic.u.m.

"He may not be a slaver by trade," Riagil told him. "Not even Ulan i Sathil would stoop so low as to trade in bodies. But this Notis may be in service to one who does, and that man may be a trader in other commodities."

"The point is, he's in Aurenen!" Thero exclaimed. "We have to find him and make him tell us what happened. That's the only link we have to where they might have been taken."

"Khirnari, can any of your people do that traveling spell that brought us here?" asked Mic.u.m.

"No. That, like the blood spell, is no part of Aurenfaie magic. But if we ride hard, we can be back in Gedre soon enough, and there I can put you on my fastest ship. Whatever you need, you have only to ask."

Thero stood and bowed to him. "We accept your kind offer, Khirnari, with our deepest thanks. It's still a great wide world to search in, but this gives me hope."

"Thank the Four," Mic.u.m murmured, leaning heavily on his stick. "If they are alive, then I won't stop until I find them and bring them home!"

CHAPTER 33 33.

Child of No Woman

THE FOLLOWING DAY, Alec and Khenir were allowed in the garden again, veiled and under guard, as usual. Apart from the ever-present escort, this was the best place for a potential escape, and close to the cell he was in now. He was glad that they hadn't thought to put him back in the first cell under the main house, at least not yet. All he had to do was get the cell and workshop doors open some night when the workshop was empty, slip out here, and over the wall. Of course, he'd have to find a way to carry the rhekaro when he went...

That last thought brought him to a sudden halt by the fountain. He kept his gaze on the fish swimming lazily after Khenir's crumbs, but his mind was racing. There was no telling what the alchemist would do to the pale little creature, now that it, too, was proving unsuitable to his needs.

h.e.l.l, with me gone and no one else's blood good enough to feed it, it will die anyway. I can't just leave it-can I?

His heart already had the answer. It was a child, born of no woman.

His child.

So that's settled. Maybe that will finally make Seregil shut up about me finding a girl, too.

Khenir looked up and chuckled. "It's good to see you smile."

"I like the fish. Can I have some of that bread to give them?"

Khenir pa.s.sed him the crust he'd brought and they sat together on the rim of the fountain, watching as the fish thrust their blunt heads and gaping, whiskered mouths up out of the water to beg like puppies.

Khenir still had charge of his chain, but Alec had room enough to move away a little, and as he bent to look more closely at a yellow snail crawling along the bottom of the pool, he caught sight of something lying in the shadow under the wide basin.

It was a child's bronze hairpin.

Without any change of expression, he knelt and rested one arm on the edge of the basin, trailing his fingers in the water for the fish to nibble at, while letting the other fall. It only took an instant to palm the pin.

He had no sleeve or belt to hide it in, so he pinched it in the folds of one curled palm and prayed to Illior he didn't have cause to use his left hand until his got back to his room.

Khenir rested a hand casually on Alec's shoulder. "I'm glad you like the fish so much. You look like a child, kneeling there."

Alec grinned up at him. "They're very pretty. The whole garden is. It's good to get out of that room. And..." He glanced away shyly. "And to see you, too. There's no one else I can talk to here. I've really come to understand what you said about being lonely. It's awful, isn't it?"

"It is." Khenir's hand moved from Alec's shoulder to his hair, and he combed his fingers through the loose strands around Alec's face. The tips of his finger were cool and soft as they brushed his cheek, and Alec was once again torn between sympathy and distrust. He turned his face away from that touch.

"Still pining for that lost love of yours?" Khenir asked sadly.

"Yes. But it's good to have you here."

Khenir leaned closer and whispered, "Would you really take me with you, if you got out?"

"Yes, I would."

"And do you think you could really get away? How would you do that?"

Alec looked back at the fish. Did he trust Khenir or not? His head told him one thing, but gut instinct made him hold back. It was a bad feeling, especially if he was wrong and Khenir really was his friend.

Caution won out, all the same. He shrugged. "I don't know. Get on a ship headed west, I suppose."

Khenir laughed outright at that. "That's your whole plan, is it? Find a ship? Hmm, I think maybe I'll take my chances and stay here, then. You'll be chained in the market without a foot before the next full moon."

Alec shrugged. "You're probably right."

He kept the pin hidden in his palm until he was alone in his cell again. He waited until the lock ground into place, then sat down and examined his find.

It was a child's hair stick, just less than three inches long, with a carved ivory finial. Illior must have heard me, after all, Illior must have heard me, after all, he thought, for the pin was made of bronze, rather than soft gold or silver. However, his horn splinters had been longer. he thought, for the pin was made of bronze, rather than soft gold or silver. However, his horn splinters had been longer.

He knew that Khenir's evaluation of his so-called plan was apt. Even if he did get out of this room, and the villa, he wouldn't get very far without some way to disguise himself, and the rhekaro, too. He glanced up at the ceiling, wondered if there was any sort of dye in the workshop.

And, of course, he'd have to find Seregil, too.

He had little appet.i.te that night but ate his turnip stew and bread anyway to avoid any undue attention. Ahmol took the tray away when he was done and Alec lay down to wait.

Without a window, it was impossible to gauge the pa.s.sage of time. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the candle flame in the niche by the door and began counting softly to himself to mark the pa.s.sing seconds. He recalled Seregil once telling him how long it took a candle to burn an inch but couldn't remember what the actual time had been. It was boring work, and he lost count several times, dozing off, but when the candle finally burned almost to the socket, he judged that it must be late.

He went to the door and put his ear against the wood. All was silent beyond. Encouraged, he inserted the pin into the lock and gently caressed the tumblers, seeing what he could reach. The first pin gave easily, but the second was a hairbreadth out of reach.

"Bilairy's b.a.l.l.s!" He sat back on his heels and turned the hairpin over between his fingers. It was metal, so there was the chance that he could pound it out a little to make it longer, but with what? He carried it over to the corner with the slop pail. The pail was carved in one piece from a length of log and quite thick at the bottom.

It had also been used several times today.

Alec kicked it over to make it look like an accident, but was careful to send the contents away from the bed. Stale urine spread across the floor and soaked into the mortar. Satisfied, Alec carried the bucket away from the mess and sat down to work on the pin.

He soon discovered that wood was no fit tool for shaping cold bronze. At first all he managed to do was dent the bottom of the pail and leave traces of metal on the floor. Just as he was about to give up, however, he accidentally struck the ivory bead on the end of the pin and shattered it, revealing a precious length of knurled metal that had been hidden before. He picked up every broken fragment and hid them in the mattress, then went back to the door.

The extra little bit of length was enough. The lock gave and he inched the door open on darkness. There was no sign of light from the cellar below, or from the workshop. He crept up the stairs and put his ear to the door. More silence there.

He took a deep breath, then tested the latch. It lifted with a faint snick of metal and he opened the door a tiny crack. The workroom was in darkness except for the red glow from the athanor's furnace.

A fire needed tending. He pushed the door open a little further and looked around for the alchemist and his servant. But the room appeared deserted.

Or so he thought until something moved just outside the dim glow of the furnace.

It was the rhekaro. It was clad in a short slave's tunic that left its limbs bare. Alec saw more bandages than had been there this morning. As he watched, it squatted by the athanor, stared a moment at the fire within through one of the ports, then took a handful of woodchips from a basket and fed them one by one into the chamber.

It's not a mindless thing, thought Alec, pleased but wary. If it served the alchemist, it might just be loyal. Well, there was only one way to find out. thought Alec, pleased but wary. If it served the alchemist, it might just be loyal. Well, there was only one way to find out.

He stepped slowly into the room, watching the rhekaro for a reaction.

It paid him no attention until he came up behind it and touched its shoulder.

It turned and looked up at him, then its lips made a little sucking motion.

"Are you hungry?" Alec whispered.

The creature made no reply but fixed its gaze on Alec's hand.

"All right, then." He went to one of the tables and found a bodkin lying next to a bowl of flowers. He stabbed his finger and offered it. The rhekaro took it eagerly and sucked, looking him in the eye as it always did.

"Do you know me?" he asked softly. "Can you speak?"

As always, there was no answer. Perhaps it lacked the ability to speak or understand, thought Alec. And despite the number of wounds it clearly had, he hadn't heard much screaming, either.

The rhekaro made no move to resist when Alec untied one of the bandages around its left arm to inspect the damage. He expected to find skin sliced away, but instead he found a painted symbol similar to those he'd seen on the amulets Yhakobin had made him wear.

Other bandages revealed similar marks. Some looked inflamed, but there was no serious wound. So the alchemist was taking better care of this one, at least. The little thing was clean and its long hair shone in the firelight.

"What are you for?" Alec murmured, retying the bandages.

As soon as he was finished, the rhekaro squatted down to feed the fire again, seeming to forget all about him.

Alec left it to its task and began searching the shop for anything that might help them escape. There was nothing like a weapon, except for the bodkin, and that wouldn't be much good against a sword. What knives Yhakobin used were stored away out of sight. Once again, he cursed his lack of Plenimaran. The drawers of the alchemist's cabinets and cupboards were all carefully labeled in clear but incomprehensible script.

"d.a.m.n! I can't even find the tea, much less a knife," he muttered aloud.

The rhekaro straightened again and went to the tallest of the cabinets, the one with scores of small drawers. Without any hesitation at all it pulled one out and reached in, then came to Alec and held out a pottery jar with a leather top. Surprised, Alec opened the lid and sniffed at the contents.

It was tea.

Meanwhile, the rhekaro went to one of the tables and grasped the handle of a drawer there. When it would not open, it just stood there, apparently baffled.

"Is that where the knives are?" Alec asked, not expecting an answer.

The rhekaro touched the handle again, then let its hand fall to its side.

Alec made short work of the simple lock and opened it. Inside was a neatly arranged array of knives that would have made a butcher happy.

He clapped the rhekaro on the shoulder. "Thank you. Now, you don't know if he has any dyes, do you?"

The rhekaro went to another large cupboard and opened it, showing Alec a pile of leather pouches, many of them stained from the contents inside.

"Brown dye?" Alec tried.

The rhekaro selected a pouch and carried it to him.

"Do you know how to mix it?"

Stymied again, the rhekaro just stood there.

"That's all right. You're a good helper." It was impossible not to speak to it as if it was an actual child. "Keys?"

Again there was no response.

"Food? Bread?"

Nothing.

"Flower?"

Despite the fact that the flower bowl was only a few feet away, the rhekaro paid it no mind.

"Let's see. What would be useful? Rope?"

It went to a closet and returned with several hanks of rope, some of it stained and stiff with what appeared to be blood.

"Seregil?" Alec tried. As expected, that got him another blank look. It seemed that the rhekaro's education was very limited. "Well, let's try this. Alec?"

The rhekaro immediately came to him, took his hand, and sucked on his finger.

Alec chuckled and pulled his hand free. "At least you didn't come at me when I said 'food.'" He took those cool little hands in his and pressed them to his chest. "Alec. My name is Alec. Alec is me. Do you understand? Name?"

The rhekaro gazed up at him and he could have sworn he caught a fleeting look of confusion. Perhaps, having no name of its own, such distinctions meant nothing to it. "Alec" was probably the same to it as "chair" or "rope" or "tea": just another useful item to be found in the workshop.