This was the night they would finally try leaving Sebrahn alone. His misgivings grew as they reached their room.
“Seregil, I don’t know if this is a good idea,” he began, setting Sebrahn down and pulling off his mittens.
“Oh come on, talí,” Seregil gave him a comically imploring look. “If we were in Rhíminee tonight, we’d be drunk off our assess by now. And you can’t very well dance with me lugging Sebrahn on your back. He’ll be fine here, and it’s not so far to the hall that we can’t look in on him as often as you like. As soon as we’ve danced ourselves out a little, we’ll fetch him to the party, I promise.”
Alec cast a worried look at Sebrahn, who was staring back just as intently from his place on the bed, as if he knew exactly what was going on. Alec had trimmed and braided the rhekaro’s hair, and dressed him in the little tunic embroidered with flowers that Kheeta’s mother had made for him. There had to be some moment when Alec allowed himself to be parted from Sebrahn; it was inevitable. But did it have to be now? All the other children in the house would be there. Sebrahn hadn’t exactly made friends with anyone. However, he did seem interested in how they played, and would mimic them now and then.
Yet Alec didn’t need the pull of their bond to see that behind Seregil’s inveigling smile was a genuine plea. Seregil pulled him close, sighed heavily for good effect, then danced him around the room. “Please, talí? Just this one time? He couldn’t be anywhere safer.” Letting Alec go, Seregil made a show of barring the shutters, then held up the iron key that they hadn’t used since their arrival.
Alec wavered; he hadn’t danced in months, and now he could hear a reel beginning. “Well, I guess he’d be all right for a little while. Maybe …”
“Then it’s settled! I’ll tell you what; as soon as we meet with Micum, I’ll have him look in on him for us, too.”
“Well …”
Seregil sensed his weakening resolve and grinned. “Good.”
Alec sat down with Sebrahn and tried to explain. “Seregil and I are going out.” He pointed to the door, then the bed. “And you stay here, understand? Right here.”
It was difficult to tell what Sebrahn thought of that. Alec found one of the little dolls Mydri had given him in Gedre, as if that would keep him company.
“Come on, Alec. Listen—they’ve started without us. The musicians are already playing,” Seregil urged gently, slipping a hand under his arm.
Alec glanced back over his shoulder as they went out. Sebrahn sat in the middle of the bed, holding the doll upside down in one hand.
As soon as they were in the corridor Alec locked the door. More music floated down from the hall, enticing him.
Maybe this is a good thing. Just get it over with.
He’d just turned the key when a piercing shriek split the air.
“Bilairy’s Balls!” Seregil yelped, clapping his hands over his ears.
Then came a loud thud from inside the room as Sebrahn threw himself against the door, shrieking again at a pitch that made the hair on Alec’s arms stand up and his heart pound.
“For hell’s sake, open the door!”
“I’m trying!” The sound was like a knife grating against bone. Alec’s hands were shaking so badly that he had to use both to get the key back into the lock. When he finally got the door open Sebrahn flew at him, wrapping his arms and legs around him with shocking strength and still shrieking. Seregil dragged them both back into the bedchamber, then wrested the key from Alec’s clenched fingers and locked the door from the inside.
“Stop!” Alec shouted, shaking Sebrahn. The painful shriek tapered off, but Sebrahn didn’t loosen his grip.
“It’s all right,” Alec whispered, hugging Sebrahn tight. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Scare him?” Seregil gasped, running a shaky hand back through his hair. “Bilairy’s Balls, Alec!”
“He didn’t know what he was doing!”
“Even worse—” Seregil broke off suddenly, staring at Sebrahn. “Don’t move, Alec,” he whispered. “You’re bleeding.”
“What?”
“Your nose is bleeding, and Sebrahn’s eyes are completely black. Tell him not to hurt me.”
“He wouldn’t—” Alec could taste blood on his lips now, and remembered how Sebrahn had hissed at Seregil in Gedre. He got a hand under the rhekaro’s chin and raised his face. Sure enough, Sebrahn’s pupils were dilated like a cat’s in the dark, with only a thin rim of silver showing around them. “It’s all right now,” he soothed, not really believing that as he stroked Sebrahn’s hair. “If you hurt anyone, I’ll be sad. Do you understand? You will make me very sad. Tell me if you understand, Sebrahn.”
Bit by bit, Sebrahn loosened his painful grip and slid down to the floor. His eyes weren’t quite so black now, but more than Alec liked.
He knelt and took Sebrahn by the shoulders, heart hammering against his ribs now as the shock of it all rolled over him. What if—? “Don’t ever do that again!”
Sebrahn reached out and touched Alec’s upper lip. His finger came away bloody. He licked at it with his little grey tongue and reached out for more.
Seregil’s hand closed over Alec’s shoulder and pulled him back. “No, Sebrahn! That’s bad. Making Alec bleed is very, very bad.”
The rhekaro’s gaze flickered between the two of them, as if he was trying to make sense of all this. “Baaaad.”
Alec nodded. “Bad. You hurt me. You could have hurt Seregil, too, and our friends. Never do that again!”
“Bad,” Sebrahn whispered again. He clenched both fists against his chest and sank into a squat at Alec’s feet. His braid had come loose somehow, and his hair cascaded around his face and shoulders.
“Sebrahn?” Alec knelt down by him.
From behind that curtain of hair a tear fell to the floor, spattering on the polished wood, and then another. One mingled with a stray drop of Alec’s blood and formed a tiny white blossom.
“He’s crying,” Alec whispered, amazed. He reached out to Sebrahn, but Seregil pulled him back again.
“These are what Sebrahn saved you with. There’s no telling what these will do to a living person.”
Alec shrugged his hand off and took Sebrahn in his arms, pressing his bloodied nose to Sebrahn’s cheek. Blood and tears mingled and fragrant white blossoms tumbled into Alec’s lap.
Nothing else happened.
Seregil picked up a flower and held it in his cupped hand. “That’s different.”
Alec tasted more blood on his lip as he looked up at Seregil. “Maybe these white ones only work on the dead?”
“I hope we don’t need to test that anytime soon.”
“What in Bilairy’s name are you up to?” Micum demanded, rattling the door handle. “Everybody’s at the dance.”
Seregil let him in and closed the door again. Micum took in the situation at a glance. “Everyone’s asking for you.”
“Did you see anyone else on your way here?” asked Seregil.
“No, I think the whole household is at the dance.”
“Come on, Micum. We’ll check all the unlocked rooms within earshot,” said Seregil.
“You think he’s killed someone?”
“I hope he hasn’t.”
But they returned with good news. “I couldn’t find a soul, alive or otherwise. And if anyone at the dance had heard, they’d have come running,” Seregil told him.
“The music must have drowned it out,” Alec said, relieved.
Seregil sat down on the bed. “That doesn’t change what happened, though. We were just lucky. You know what this means?”
Just then they heard someone coming.
Seregil pulled out a handkerchief and quickly wiped the blood from Alec’s face, finishing up with a spit-slicked thumb. “That will have to do. Try not to bleed for a minute.”