Part 1 (2/2)

”It sounded fine to my ears.” Rieuk reached the balcony and eased himself down to sit beside Oranir. ”I've heard you playing that song before, haven't I?”

”I didn't mean to disturb you.”

”So it was you.” Rieuk was touched. ”You were watching over me while I was ill.”

Oranir laid the aludh down. ”I-I've been watching over you for a long time.” He turned suddenly to Rieuk. ”Make me your apprentice. Please, Magister.” His voice was low and urgent. ”I'll do anything you want. Anything. I'll-”

”Stop. You don't want to get involved with me.” Rieuk pushed Oranir away, holding him at arm's length. ”I'm an a.s.sa.s.sin. I've blood on my hands.”

”Do you think I'm not aware of that?” Oranir's eyes burned into his. ”I'm not a child. Why don't you let me make up my own mind? Or do you think I'm not worthy?”

”I'm bad luck, Oranir.” Rieuk forced a laugh. ”I seem to bring misfortune on all those I care about. Why do you think I've worked alone for all these years?”

”It's him, isn't it? You're still in thrall to your dead master, Imri Boldiszar. He must have been a remarkable man for you still to be in love with him after so many years.”

”Imri?” Rieuk's hands dropped to his sides. He tried to speak and found that the words were choked in his throat.

”I heard you calling his name when you were feverish.”

”I was dreaming about him, that was all... Wait!” But Oranir got to his feet and pushed past him, hurrying away before Rieuk could stop him.

I've been watching over you for a long time. Had there been an unspoken confession in Oranir's words? There was no denying the fact that Rieuk felt attracted to the young magus. If he had not checked Oranir then, there was no telling where things might have led. Had there been an unspoken confession in Oranir's words? There was no denying the fact that Rieuk felt attracted to the young magus. If he had not checked Oranir then, there was no telling where things might have led.

Rieuk drew in a shuddering breath. So many years. So many years. Of course it seemed an eternity to Oranir; Imri had died before he was born. Rieuk gazed up at the blue brilliance of the stars overhead. Of course it seemed an eternity to Oranir; Imri had died before he was born. Rieuk gazed up at the blue brilliance of the stars overhead.

”I have to move on. And I can't move on unless I know that you're at peace, Imri,” he said softly to the night. I've been alone too long. I've been alone too long.

”I've altered the lenses in your spectacles to improve the acuity of your remaining eye.” Aqil leaned forward to adjust the fit and Rieuk tried his best not to shy away. He still could not bear anyone's touching his face. His instincts had become so sensitive since he was injured that even the slightest movement close by made him flinch.

”Is there nothing else you can do?” He had lain awake night after night, unable to sleep for the constant pain, obsessed with one thought: Surely the Magi of Ondhessar will be able to heal me. Surely the Magi of Ondhessar will be able to heal me. Yet not until now had he dared to ask the question. Perhaps he didn't want to know the answer. Perhaps he didn't want the dream that had first brought him to Ondhessar at seventeen to be shattered. Yet not until now had he dared to ask the question. Perhaps he didn't want to know the answer. Perhaps he didn't want the dream that had first brought him to Ondhessar at seventeen to be shattered.

”We did what we could. But by the time you reached us, it was too late,” Aqil said bluntly. ”The infection was so advanced that it was all I could do to save your life.”

Rieuk gazed at his reflection. It was a face to frighten children. The spectacles did nothing to hide the scar. If anything they made it look more grotesque.

”What's the point?” he said aloud, tearing them off and hurling them to the floor. ”Wearing a blank lens on the right side, when everyone can see that I'm disfigured?” He sat down on the bed and covered his face in his hands. He was shaking with rage. Why had he been so confident that Aqil could restore his sight?

He heard someone enter the room and raised his head to see Oranir picking up his discarded spectacles. He turned his face away, not wanting Oranir to know how volatile his feelings were. Oranir came closer, holding out the spectacles.

Rieuk pushed his hand away. ”It won't make any difference. I'm disfigured. Damaged goods.”

”Do you think you're the only one who's damaged?” Oranir's voice burned, low and furious. ”What gives you the right to tell me me how it feels?” He tore open his loose s.h.i.+rt, baring his lean upper body. Beneath the dark, delicate-feathered tattoo of his Emissary, Zophas, Rieuk saw the seams of old scars marring the smooth sheen of his olive skin. how it feels?” He tore open his loose s.h.i.+rt, baring his lean upper body. Beneath the dark, delicate-feathered tattoo of his Emissary, Zophas, Rieuk saw the seams of old scars marring the smooth sheen of his olive skin.

”Turn around,” Rieuk ordered.

Mutely, Oranir obeyed. More scars, like serrated stripes, were flayed into his back.

”Who did this to you?” The words caught at the back of Rieuk's throat.

Still Oranir said nothing. But his defiant stance, the stiffness of his shoulders, the shoulder blades, told Rieuk more than any explanation.

Before Rieuk was fully aware of what he was doing, he had reached out and drifted his fingertips down Oranir's back, parting the long locks of glossy black hair to trace the seamed skin. He half expected Oranir to flinch at his touch, to strike his hand away. But Oranir just stood there unmoving.

”The mage blood is a hard burden to be born with.” Rieuk was still angry, but no longer just at his own disfigurement. He could not bear to think that Oranir had suffered so much pain and rejection when he was a child. Yet as his fingertips grazed Oranir's skin, he felt a slow, dark heat begin to burn within him.

What was he doing? His hand had come to a halt over the small of Oranir's back. What was this feeling? It was as fierce and intense as anger, and it had come to him as swiftly. But it was not anger. It was desire. And, unlike anger, he was not so sure that he could control it. Or even that he wanted to.

”Rieuk.” Oranir turned to gaze at him, his face so much closer, a look at once vulnerable yet provocative smoldering in his eyes. So close that if Rieuk exerted the slightest pressure through the hand that rested on Oranir's back, their bodies would touch and their mouths would meet. Even as an ache of longing swept through him, Rieuk let his hand drop away and took a step back. This was all happening too quickly. His body had reacted before his mind had had time to a.s.sess the risks involved.

”Rieuk,” said Oranir again, his voice low, urgent. ”Rieuk... ”Rieuk... ” It was as if he were conjuring a spell of binding, saying his name hypnotically again and again, and Rieuk could feel his willpower weakening. ” It was as if he were conjuring a spell of binding, saying his name hypnotically again and again, and Rieuk could feel his willpower weakening.

”No,” he heard himself saying. Another step back. I can't do this to him. Or to myself. I can't afford to get involved with anyone again. Especially someone as vulnerable as Oranir... I can't do this to him. Or to myself. I can't afford to get involved with anyone again. Especially someone as vulnerable as Oranir... He could see the look of blank incomprehension in Oranir's eyes. ”I-I'm sorry, Oranir. Forgive me.” And he turned and fled. He could see the look of blank incomprehension in Oranir's eyes. ”I-I'm sorry, Oranir. Forgive me.” And he turned and fled.

CHAPTER 2.

”So you're up and about at last, Rieuk.” Lord Estael nodded to him absently. He seemed preoccupied, scarcely glancing up from the ancient doc.u.ment he was studying. ”You're stronger than you look; we feared at first that you might be past saving.”

”But my right eye is gone. I'm half-blind.” Rieuk leaned on Estael's desk. ”Tell me the truth, my lord. Does this mean that I've lost half my powers as well?”

”The eyes are merely the outward manifestation of a magus's gifts.” Estael gazed calmly back at him. ”I have no way of telling if your innate powers have been affected as well. It seems, though, that you're well enough to resume your duties as the Arkhan's Emissary.”

Rieuk drew back. That was not what he wanted to hear at all. ”What use am I to the Arkhan in this condition?” The thought of having to carry out any more of Sardion's missions sickened him.

”He still has Imri's soul gla.s.s,” said Estael bluntly. ”How much do you care about saving Imri's immortal soul?”

Rieuk brought his fist cras.h.i.+ng down on Estael's desk. ”How can you let that madman take control of such a precious thing? Your own apprentice's soul? Don't you care about anything anymore, Lord Estael?”

Estael shrugged. ”He is the Arkhan.”

”Perhaps he's been Arkhan too long,” said Rieuk darkly.

”Treasonable words, Rieuk.” Estael's head was bent over the ma.n.u.script again. ”It's lucky for you that only I heard them.”

”I'd hoped for more from you, my lord.” Rieuk could see that Estael was not prepared to give him even the slightest support. As he left Estael's study, he knew that he would have to act alone. ”I'm coming to pay you a visit, Lord Arkhan,” he said under his breath. ”But not quite in the way that you're expecting.”

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