Merry Christmas Eve snippet SHARDS OF TIME

Did you think I'd forget, my dears.

SHARDS opens a year after the end of CASKET OF SOULS:




They returned to Wheel Street and public life a few days later, attended the prince’s birthday gala, and the social whirl began again. The foul weather continued—with sullen rain giving way to dank fog. They went to the theater, to gambling houses, and a few salons, including that of Marquise Alania, a fashionable dowager who’d taken quite an interest in them since Seregil’s risqué display at the Three Dragons nearly a year ago. To her credit, her circle was an interesting collection of well-educated nobles, philosophers, artists, and amusing ne’er do wells like Seregil. The food and wine were always exquisite. Even Seregil had to grudgingly admit that life was a bit less tedious than it had been.
#
The weather improved at last, rain giving way to bright sunshine and brisk winds. They were at Alania’s house one night during the Festival of Flowers when Alec noticed Seregil blinking and rubbing absently at his left temple as he lost a bakshi game to the court painter, Vireus. Finishing his game of Blue Goose with Alania and two flirtatious young noblewomen, Alec laid his cards aside and went to sit by Seregil.
“What wrong?” he murmured as Seregil conceded the game.
“Headache,” Seregil replied. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to make an early night of it.”
“I’m so sorry to hear it,” said the marquise, coming to join them. “I can have Evers prepare you a willow bark tea.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I think a good night’s sleep is in order.” Seregil bent over her hand and kissed it gallantly. “I promise you a fine dinner at Wheel Street to make up for this.”

The wind had blown out many of the street lanterns and those few left cast uncertain shadows at the edges of the street. It was a good night for footpads, even in this fashionable district of guards and walls, but Seregil seemed unusually distracted, often raising a gloved hand to his brow as he rode.
“You’re in real pain.”
“Must be the change in the weather,” Seregil muttered.
As soon as they got home Seregil went to bed with a cup of willow bark infusion. When Alec came to bed later, he was asleep but restless. Alec touched Seregil’s brow and was relieved to find it cool. He didn’t wake when Alec blew out the night lamp and climbed into bed to pull him close. That seemed to calm him and Alec soon drifted off.
#
A high wind yanked persistently on his cloak and whipped his hair across his eyes as Seregil bent to inspect the lock on the huge oak door. The moon was high, casting enough light to see the rusted plate and enormous keyhole. Nothing in his tool roll was large enough to pick the lock. Surrounded by lichen-blotched stone, the door stood between him and Alec, and he had to get to Alec. The thought made his head and his heart pound painfully: Must find Alec!
Thrusting his hand into the keyhole he felt for the tumblers. They were razor sharp, cutting the sensitive pads of his fingertips, but he could not stop. The pain was unbearable, but at last he felt the lock give. Withdrawing his bloodied hand, he swung the door open and found himself in a long corridor. The stone floor was covered with rushes and clay lamps of antique design burned in niches high in the plain stone walls. Behind him the door had disappeared, leaving a blank wall and no way out.
“Alec!” His voice came out strangled, barely audible. He tried again but could only force out a hoarse whisper.
As he started down the corridor, however, he heard his name called from a great distance that had nothing to do with stone walls. The corridor was long and at the far end stood Alec, facing away from him.
“Alec!” Seregil croaked, knowing there was no way that Alec would hear.
As he’d feared, Alec disappeared around a corner to the right. Seregil ran to the turning, only to find another, equally long corridor, and once again, Alec with his back to him. He called again, and Alec disappeared again, to the left this time. It happened again, and again, and again, as if they were playing some strange and frustrating game not of Seregil’s choosing.
Rounding a final corner he nearly ran into a tall, spare figure who stood with arms outstretched, blocking his way. Seregil could not make out the figure’s face, but beyond it he could see Alec crouched against the wall that dead ended the far end of the hallway. He had his face in his hands but Seregil knew him by his blond braid and his clothing.
He tried to push past the man blocking his way, calling Alec’s name. When his lover looked up, his once beautiful face was nothing but an empty-eyed skull. Suddenly a door opened behind him and Alec sprang through it. The door disappeared as suddenly as it had come.
“No!” Seregil screamed, finding his voice at last. Come back—”
#
“Come back!”
The desperation in Seregil’s voice jolted Alec awake in time to catch something hard and blunt in the face. With a grunt of pain and surprise, he automatically reached out to fend off an attacker, but instead felt Seregil sitting bolt upright in bed, trembling and covered in cold sweat. His voice was ragged and eerie as he whispered over and over, “Come back! Please come back!”
“It’s all right, talí.” Alec gently pulled him back down into his arms and settled Seregil’s head on his shoulder. It was too dark to see him, but Alec could feel his lover’s heart hammering against his ribs, and the clamminess of his skin. Seregil was no stranger to nightmares, but it had been ages since he’d had one this bad. “What was it?”
Seregil moaned softly. “A bad one.”
“What about?”
“I—I can’t remember.”
“You talked in your sleep. You were begging someone to come back.”
“Really?” Seregil drew a shuddering breath. “I don’t know. I can’t remember anything except being terrified.”
“Maybe you will in the morning. How is your headache?”
“Still bad.”
“I’ll get you something.” But when he tried to leave the bed Seregil’s arms tightened around him.
“It’s all right. Stay.”
“All right.” Alec rubbed pulled the sheet up to Seregil’s chin and rubbed his back through it.
It was a long time until he was certain Seregil was asleep.