Stalking Darkness Read Online Free PDF

all but the closest buildings. Behind him, he could hear Seregil still rummaging about.
    Fighting down his rising impatience, he pulled on a pair of breeches and set about lighting the fire.
    The coals had died in the night. He heaped tinder and kindling on the ashes and shook out a firechip from the jar by the hearth. Flames leapt up and he stared into them, trying to marshal his racing thoughts.
    “You know, from the back your head looks like a disheveled hedgehog,” Seregil remarked, emerging at last. Ruffling Alec’s ragged hair, he dropped into his favorite chair by the fire.
    Alec was not amused. “You’re going off alone, aren’t you?”
    “Just for a few days.”
    There was a guardedness in Seregil’s tone that Alec didn’t like. “On a job, you mean?”
    “I can’t say, actually.”
    Alec studied his friend’s face. On closer inspection, he noticed that Seregil looked rather pale. “Is this because of last night? You said—“
    “No, of course not. This is something I can’t speak of to anyone.” “Why not?” the boy demanded, stubborn curiosity mingling with disappointment.
    Seregil spread his hands apologetically. “It’s nothing to do with you, believe me. And don’t bother pressing.”
    “This is something for Nysander, isn’t it?”
    Seregil regarded him impassively. “I need your word you won’t track me when I go.”
    Alec considered further objections, then nodded glumly. “When will you be back?”
    “In a few days, I hope. You’ll have to do that papers job for Baron Orante, and anything else coming in that looks like a one man job. There’s Mourning Night to think about, too, if I’m not back in time.”
    “Not back in time?” Alec sputtered. “That’s only a week away, and you’re holding a party at Wheel Street that night!”
    “We are holding a party,” Seregil corrected. “Don’t worry. Runcer sees to all the arrangements, and
    Micum and his family will be here by then, too. You’ll just have to play host. Remember Lady Kylith, the woman you danced with our first night there?”
    “We’re sitting with her at the Mourning Night ceremony.”
    “Right. She’ll see to your etiquette.”
    “People are bound to ask about you, though.”
    “As far as anyone knows, Lord Seregil is still away recovering from the shock of his arrest. Tell anyone who asks that I was delayed. Cheer up, Alec. Chances are I’ll be back in plenty of time.”
    “This secret job of yours—is it dangerous?”
    Seregil shrugged. “What do we do that isn’t? The truth is, I won’t know much myself until I’m in the middle of it.”
    “When are you leaving?” “As soon as I’ve had something to eat. Get dressed now and we’ll have our breakfast downstairs.” Alec smelled freshly baked bread as they crossed the lading room to the kitchen.
    The breakfast uproar was over. A scullery boy was scrubbing down the scarred worktables while Cilia bathed Luthas in a pan. Old Thryis sat peeling turnips by the hearth, a shawl draped over her shoulders against the damp.
    “Well, there you are at last,” the old woman greeted them, though she seldom saw Seregil before noon. “There’s tea on the hob and new current buns under that cloth there. Cilia made them fresh this morning.”
    “And how’s this lad today?” Seregil smiled, holding a forefinger out to the baby. Luthas immediately grabbed it and pulled it into his mouth.
    “Oh, he’s feisty,” replied Cilia, looking rather dark under the eyes. “He’s got a tooth coming and it wakes us all night.”
    Alec shook his head. One minute Seregil was speaking of mysterious journeys, the next here he was playing uncle to the baby like he hadn’t a care in the world.
    Not that his affection for Luthas wasn’t genuine.
    He’d told Alec how Cilia had offered him the honor of fathering her child when she’d made up her mind to avoid conscription. Seregil had politely declined. While his interest in women seemed marginal at best, Alec