Lynn Flewelling - The White Road

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Dissolute nobles, master spies, and the unlikeliest of heroes, Alec and Seregil have survived exile, treachery, and black magic. But the road that lies ahead is the most hazardous they've ever traveled. For with enemies on all sides, they must walk a narrow path between good and evil where one misstep might be their last.
Having escaped death and slavery in Plenimar, Alec and Seregil want nothing more than to go back to their nightrunning life in Rhíminee. Instead they find themselves saddled with Sebrahn, a strange, alchemically created creature - the prophesied 'child of no woman.' Its moon-white skin and frightening powers make Sebrahn a danger to all whom Alec and Seregil come into contact with, leaving them no choice but to learn more about Sebrahn's true nature.
With the help of trusted friends and Seregil's clan, the duo set out to discover the truth about this living homunculus - a journey that can lead only to danger or death. For Seregil's old nemesis Ulan í Sathil of Virèsse and Alec's own long-lost kin are after them, intent on possessing both Alec and Sebrahn. On the run and hunted, Alec and his comrades must fight against time to accomplish their most personal mission ever.

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Seregil turned and headed for the door with them. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Where are you going?” asked Alec.

“To talk to my sister.”

Before Alec could get more of an answer than that, Seregil was gone again.

It was still raining, so Seregil brought Adzriel up to one of the rooftop colos . Its domed roof kept them dry, but the tall window openings hadn’t been shuttered and the wind off the sea was raw. Sitting down on one of the stone benches, Adzriel pulled her cloak about her and looked up expectantly.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” he told her.

“Are you speaking to me as your sister or a khirnari?”

Seregil smiled slightly. “Both?”

She patted the seat beside her and took his hand. The familiarity of it make him feel like a child again, just for a moment. “Go on, then.”

“I believe that Sebrahn is the child the Dragon Oracle at Sarikali told Alec about.”

“That would make sense.”

“Did Magyana tell you what she sees when she looks at Sebrahn?”

“No,” said Adzriel, “but I assume you mean the strange aura about him. I thought you must know, but since you didn’t speak of it …”

“Ah. So you see the dragon, too?”

“A dragon? No, it shifts and glimmers. Can Alec see it?”

“No, and neither can I. Magyana and Thero just told us.” He paused, looking down at their joined hands. “I’d like to take Sebrahn to Sarikali, since it was the oracle there who foretold it. Perhaps the rhui’auros will know what he is.” The temple mystics—the only permanent residents of sacred Sarikali—were renowned for their knowledge and visions, and the Dragon Oracle was theirs—or they were its. No one knew for sure.

“You know I don’t have the authority to give permission for you to take something as strange as Sebrahn onto sacred ground, little brother, even if I went with you. That would require a vote by the entire Iia’sidra Council, and that could take a year or more.”

“We can’t wait that long.” He thought a moment, trying to come up with some other option. “Is Tyrus still around?”

“As far as I know, he’s still up in the hills.”

“Then, speaking to my khirnari, may I bring Sebrahn to Bôkthersa?”

Adzriel considered this for a long moment. “I don’t suppose Riagil will let you stay here much longer. It’s clear that Sebrahn scares him.”

“He’s a smart man.”

“Then Sebrahn does have some darker power?”

Seregil looked up into grey eyes identical to his own. “Sebrahn can kill. With a song. He heals with his blood, and he can kill with his voice.”

She didn’t appear surprised. “Who has he killed?”

“The men who caught us in Plenimar—Yhakobin’s slave takers.”

“He killed them because they attacked you and Alec?”

“Yes. And that’s the only time. Then again, we’ve only had him for a few weeks. I have no idea what else he’s capable of.”

She raised a disapproving eyebrow at him. “I can still tell when you’re lying to me, Haba.”

“Yes, I suppose you can. All right then, here’s all of it.” Seregil lowered his voice, though it would have been difficult for anyone to hear them over the wind. “He can raise the dead.”

“Raise the dead?” This time she was clearly surprised.

“Yes. Alec wasn’t just hurt in Plenimar. He was killed.” The words came out in a rush now. “We were totally outnumbered by Yhakobin’s men. Alec was struck by two arrows and that’s when Sebrahn sang; it killed every man left standing. I killed Yhakobin myself.” He rubbed at his eyes. “But Alec was dying when I got back to him. That’s why he’s in such bad shape now, and I’m not.” Tears stung his eyes; the memory was too raw. “Sebrahn brought him back from Bilairy’s gate.”

“But—are you certain he was actually dead?”

“Yes!” Seregil’s voice was suddenly a little unsteady. “I held him in my arms and watched the blood stop flowing from his wounds. I saw his eyes fix. I know what death looks like, Adzriel. He was dead.”

“I see.” She was quiet for some time. At last, she laid a hand on his arm. “Then, yes, you must come to Bôkthersa and speak with Tyrus. If Sebrahn is somehow a dragon, then Tyrus will know. Even if he doesn’t, then at least you’ll be safe for a time with us. You can rest and decide what to do next.”

“Sebrahn may be a danger to the clan, you know.”

“That is my responsibility. And what about Alec? Don’t you want him safe?”

“Of course.” He squeezed her hand. “Thank you, eldest sister.”

“Then that’s settled. But you haven’t said who kidnapped you. Micum and Thero spoke of finding the slavers who took you, but they seemed to think there was more to it.”

“Indeed. The slavers told them that Ulan í Sathil ransoms slaves from Virésse and Goliníl.”

Her grey eyes widened in dismay. “You don’t think that Ulan í Sathil had something to do with this?” If true, it was an unforgivable breach of atui— Aurënfaie clan honor—and could spark a bloody feud with Akhendi, in whose fai’thast they’d been ambushed, as well as with Bôkthersa and Gedre, whose people had been killed along with the Skalan escort. “Do you have any proof of this?”

“No. But the slavers who took us were not the ordinary lot. They struck too far inland, and they had a necromancer with them.” He paused, weighing his words. “I wouldn’t have thought of Ulan, except that Yhakobin mentioned to Alec that he traded with him.”

“It’s no secret that Virésse trades with Plenimar. Who can blame the khirnari for saving his own people any way he can? I’d do the same, in his place.”

“Yes, but it’s also no secret here that Alec is half Hâzadriëlfaie. Ulan could have told his friend Yhakobin about Alec to buy favor.”

“That is conjecture, Seregil, not proof.”

“It just seems like too many coincidences.”

“I’d like to see Sebrahn again,” Adzriel said, rising and going to the door of the colos.

Seregil smiled as he followed; she’d spoken more like a khirnari just now than a sister.

Together they went down to Alec’s room. Sebrahn was on the bed at Alec’s side. Magyana and Thero were with them, too, and there were bakshi stones and coins strewn across the quilt.

Sebrahn retreated closer to Alec as Adzriel sat on the bed next to him.

“Give me your hand, Sebrahn,” she said softly. Sebrahn let her clasp it. She continued to look at him intently, and Seregil knew she was seeing whatever it was that the wizards did.

“I feel no evil in him. Riagil mistakes power for that,” she murmured. “Alec, can you control his singing?”

“You told her?” Alec asked, surprised and none too pleased, either.

“I had no choice,” Seregil explained. “We need to go to Bôkthersa, and she deserves to know the whole truth. There’s a man named Tyrus there who might be able to help us; he knows more about dragons and their lore than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s called Dragon Friend.”

“Why?”

“Because he lives with the young ones, and talks to the old ones.”

“There are dragons in Bôkthersa?” Alec’s eyes were as wide as Micum’s little daughter’s when Seregil brought her a present.

“Don’t you remember what I told you when we first met, when I was trying to talk you into staying with me?”

“That you’d seen dragons flying under a full moon?”

“You’ll see them, too, talí.”

“How? When?”

Seregil grinned and exchanged a look with his sister. “I’d rather have it be a surprise.”

“Have it your way,” he said, bemused. He turned to Adzriel. “You think Sebrahn is actually a dragon?”

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