Imprint. A master of subterfuge, a rogue thief with a noble air, Seregil of Rhiminee has taught his young protege, Alec of Kerry, his greatest secrets of the trade. Together they've made their way with thieving jobs large and small, winning friends and enemies, their lives in constant danger and yet charmed by an aura of magic.
Stalking Darkness: The Nightrunner Series, Book 2
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Editorial Reviews
From the Inside Flap
With the Leran threat laid to rest, Alec and Seregil are now able to turn their attention to the ancient evil which threatens their land. The Plenimarans, at war with Skalans, have decided to defeat their ancient enemy by raising up the Dead God, Seriamaius. The early attempts at this reincarnation--masterminded by the sinister Duke Mardus and his sorcerous minion Vargul Ashnazai--once left Seregil in a sorcerous coma. Now, an ancient prophecy points to his continuing role in the quest to stop Mardus in his dread purpose.
Seregil's friend and Mentor, the wizard Nysander, has long been the guardian of a deadly secret. In a secret, silver-lined room hidden well beneath the Oreska, he has served for most of his 300 years as the keeper of a nondescript clay cup. But this cup, combined with a crystal crown and some wooden disks, forms the Helm of Seriamaius, and any mortal donning the reconstructed Helm will become the incarnation of the god on earth.
Nysander holds the cup and Mardus the wooden disks--one of which was responsible for Seregil's coma--but the crown must still be located. Threatened under pain of death by Nysander to keep his quest a secret even from his loyal companion, Alec, Seregil is dispatched to find the last missing piece of the Helm so that he and Nysander can destroy it. But this is only the beginning of one of his deadliest journeys ever, for the prophecy also holds that four will come together in a time of darkness, and gradually all that Seregil values is placed at risk as he, Alec, Nysander and Micum are drawn into a deadly web of terror and intrigue. --This text refers to the Mass Market Paperback edition.
Seregil's friend and Mentor, the wizard Nysander, has long been the guardian of a deadly secret. In a secret, silver-lined room hidden well beneath the Oreska, he has served for most of his 300 years as the keeper of a nondescript clay cup. But this cup, combined with a crystal crown and some wooden disks, forms the Helm of Seriamaius, and any mortal donning the reconstructed Helm will become the incarnation of the god on earth.
Nysander holds the cup and Mardus the wooden disks--one of which was responsible for Seregil's coma--but the crown must still be located. Threatened under pain of death by Nysander to keep his quest a secret even from his loyal companion, Alec, Seregil is dispatched to find the last missing piece of the Helm so that he and Nysander can destroy it. But this is only the beginning of one of his deadliest journeys ever, for the prophecy also holds that four will come together in a time of darkness, and gradually all that Seregil values is placed at risk as he, Alec, Nysander and Micum are drawn into a deadly web of terror and intrigue. --This text refers to the Mass Market Paperback edition.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Back at Cockerel Inn, they nicked a late snack from Thryis' pantry and crept up the hidden staircase on the second floor. Warding glyphs glowed briefly as Seregil whispered the passwords. At the top fo the stairs, they crossed the chilly attic storeroom to their own door.
The cluttered sitting room was still warm from the evening fire. Tossing his wet cloak over the mermaid statute by the door, Alec shucked off soaked clothing as he crossed to his bed in the corner by the health.
Seregil watched with a faint smile. The boy's considerable and, to his way of thinking, unnatural degree of modesty had lessened somewhat over the months of their acquaintance, but Alec still turned away as he stripped off his leather breeches and pulled on a long shift. At sixteen he was very like Seregil in build: slim, lean, and fair-skinned. Seregil quickly busied himself sorting a pile of correspondence on the table as the boy turned around again.
"We don't have anything in particular planned for tomorrow, do we?" Alec asked, taking a bite from one of the meat pies they'd purloined.
"Nothing pressing," said Seregil, yawning hugely as he went to his chamber door. "And I don't intend to be up before noon. Good night."
With the aid of a lightstone, he navigated past the stacks of books and boxes and other oddments to the broad, velvet-hung bed that dominated the back of the tiny room. Peeling off his wet garments, he slipped between the immaculate sheets with a groan of contentment. Ruetha appeared from some cluttered corner and leapt up with a throaty trill, demanding to be let under the covers.
It had been a busy year overall, he thought, stroking the cat absently. Especially the past few months. Just realizing how long it had been since he'd visited the Street of Lights underscored the general disruption of his life.
Oh well. Winter's here. There'll always be work enough to keep us occupied, but plenty of leisure too for the pleasures of the town. All in all, I'd say we've earned a bit of a respite.
Imagining quiet, snowy months stretching out before them, Seregil drifted contentedly off to sleep--only to lurch up sometime soon after from a nightmare of plummeting into darkness, Alec's terrified cry ringing in his ears as they fell down, down, past the walls of Kassarie's keep into the gorge below.
Opening his eyes with a gasp, Seregil was at once relieved and annoyed to find himself slumped naked in one of Nysander's sitting-room armchairs.
There was no need to ask how he'd gotten there; the green nausea of a translocation spell cramped his belly. Pushing his long, dark hair back from his face, he scowled wretchedly up at the wizard.
"Forgive me for bringing you here so abruptly, dear boy," said Nysander, handing him a robe and a steaming mug of tea.
"I assume there's a good reason for this," Seregil muttered, knowing very well that there must be for Nysander to subject him to magic so soon after the shape-changing incident.
"But of course. I tried to bring you earlier, but you two were busy burgling someone." Pouring himself a mug of tea, Nysander settled into his usual chair on the other side of the health. "I just looked in for a moment. Were you successful?"
"More or less." Nysander appeared in no hurry to elucidate, but it was obvious he'd been working on something. His short grey beard was smudged with ink near his mouth, and he wore one of the threadbare old robes he favored for his frequent all-night work sessions. Surrounded by the room's magnificent collection of books and oddities, he looked like some down-at-the-heels scholar who'd wandered in by mistake.
"Alec is looking better, I noticed," Nysander remarked.
"He's healing. It's his hair I'm concerned about. I've got to get him presentable in time for the Festival of Sakor."
"Be thankful he came away no worse off then he did. From what Klia and Micum told me, he's lucky to be alive at all. Ah, and before I forget, I have something for the two of you from Klia and the Queen." He handed Seregil two velvet pouches. "A public acknowledgment is impossible, of course, but they wished to express their gratitude nonetheless. That green one there is yours."
Seregil had received such rewards before. Expecting another trinket or bit of jewelry, he opened the little bag. What he found inside reduced him to stunned silence.
It was a ring, a very familiar ring. The great, smooth ruby glowed like wine in its heavy setting of Aurenfaie silver when he held it closer to the fire.
"Illior's Light, Nysander, this is one of the rings I took from Corruth i Glamien's corpse," he gasped, finding his voice at last.
Nysander leaned forward and clasped his hand. "He was your kinsman and Idrilain's, Seregil. She thought it a fitting reward for solving the mystery of his disappearance. She hopes you shall wear it with honor among your own people one day."
"Give her my thanks." Seregil tucked it reverently away in its bag. "But you didn't magick me out of bed just for this?"
Nysander sat back with a chuckle. "No. I have a task which may be of interest to you. However, there are conditions to be set forth before I explain. Agree to abide by them or I shall send you back now with all memory of this meeting expunged."
Seregil blinked in surprise. "It must be some job. Why didn't you bring Alec?"
"I shall come to that presently. I can say nothing until you agree to the conditions."
"Fine. I agree. What are they?"
"First, you may ask no question unbidden."
"Why not?"
"Starting now."
"Oh, all right. What else?"
"Second, you must work in absolute secrecy. No one is to know of this, particularly not Alec or Micum. Will you give me your oath on it?"
Seregil regarded him in silence for a moment; keeping secrets from Alec was no easy business these days. Still, how could something so shrouded in mystery fail to be interesting?
"All right. You have my word."
"Your oath," Nysander insisted somberly.
Shaking his head, Seregil held out his left hand, palm up, before him. "Asurit betuth dos Aura Elustri kamar sosui Seregil i Korit Solun Meringil Bokthersa. And by my honor as a Watcher, I swear also. Is that sufficient?"
"You know I would never impose such conditions on you without good reason," the wizard chided.
"Still, it seems to be happening quite a lot these days," Seregil retorted sourly. "Now can I ask questions?"
"I will answer what I can."
"Why is it so crucial for Alec and Micum not to know?"
"Because if you let slip the slightest detail of what I am about to tell you, I shall have to kill all of you."
Though spoken calmly, Nysander's words jolted him like a kick in the throat; he'd known the wizard too long to mistake his absolute sincerity. For an instant, Seregil felt as if he were looking into the face of a stranger. Then suddenly, everything fell into place as neatly as a three-tumbler lock. He sat forward, slopping hot tea over his knees in his excitement.
"It's to do with this, isn't it?" he exclaimed, tapping his chest. There, beneath Nysander's obscuring magic, lay the branded imprint of the wooden disk he'd stolen from Duke Mardus at Wolde--the same strange, deceptively crude disk that had nearly taken his life. "You went white the night I told you about showing a drawing of it to the Illioran Oracle. I thought you were going to fall over."
"Perhaps now you understand my distress," Nysander replied grimly.
They'd never spoken of that conversation, but the dread Seregil had felt then returned now in full force. "Bilairy's Balls! You'd have done it, too."
Nysander sighed heavily. `'I would never have forgiven myself, I assure you, but I would also have been furious with you for forcing me into such an act. Do you recall what I said to you then?"
"To pray I never found out what that disk really is?"
"Precisely. And to undertake this task, you must continue to accept that as my answer on the subject."
Seregil slouched glumly in his chair. "Same old answer, eh? And what if I say no to all this? That if you don't tell me the whole story I want no part of it?"
Nysander shrugged. "Then as I said before, I shall remove all memory of this conversation from your mind and send you home. There are certainly others who could aid me."
"Like Thero, I suppose?" Seregil snapped before he could stop himself.
"Oh, for--"
"Does he know the Great Secret?" The old jealousy gripped Seregil's heart. The last thing he wanted to hear was that the young assistant wizard knew more of this than he did.
"He knows less than you," Nysander replied, exasperated. "Now do you want the task or not?"
Seregil let out a frustrated growl. "All right, then. What's this all about?"
Nysander pulled a sheet of vellum from his sleeve and handed it to him. "To begin with, tell me what you make of this."
"Looks like a page from a book." The vellum was darkened with age or weather. Seregil rubbed a corner of it between his fingers and sniffed it, then examined the writing itself. "It's old, four or five centuries at least. Poorly kept at first though later carefully preserved. And the vellum is human or Aurenfaie skin, rather than kid." He paused again, examining the stitching holes on the left edge. "These are still intact, showing that it was carefully removed from a book, rather than torn. It was already damaged b... --This text refers to the Mass Market Paperback edition.
The cluttered sitting room was still warm from the evening fire. Tossing his wet cloak over the mermaid statute by the door, Alec shucked off soaked clothing as he crossed to his bed in the corner by the health.
Seregil watched with a faint smile. The boy's considerable and, to his way of thinking, unnatural degree of modesty had lessened somewhat over the months of their acquaintance, but Alec still turned away as he stripped off his leather breeches and pulled on a long shift. At sixteen he was very like Seregil in build: slim, lean, and fair-skinned. Seregil quickly busied himself sorting a pile of correspondence on the table as the boy turned around again.
"We don't have anything in particular planned for tomorrow, do we?" Alec asked, taking a bite from one of the meat pies they'd purloined.
"Nothing pressing," said Seregil, yawning hugely as he went to his chamber door. "And I don't intend to be up before noon. Good night."
With the aid of a lightstone, he navigated past the stacks of books and boxes and other oddments to the broad, velvet-hung bed that dominated the back of the tiny room. Peeling off his wet garments, he slipped between the immaculate sheets with a groan of contentment. Ruetha appeared from some cluttered corner and leapt up with a throaty trill, demanding to be let under the covers.
It had been a busy year overall, he thought, stroking the cat absently. Especially the past few months. Just realizing how long it had been since he'd visited the Street of Lights underscored the general disruption of his life.
Oh well. Winter's here. There'll always be work enough to keep us occupied, but plenty of leisure too for the pleasures of the town. All in all, I'd say we've earned a bit of a respite.
Imagining quiet, snowy months stretching out before them, Seregil drifted contentedly off to sleep--only to lurch up sometime soon after from a nightmare of plummeting into darkness, Alec's terrified cry ringing in his ears as they fell down, down, past the walls of Kassarie's keep into the gorge below.
Opening his eyes with a gasp, Seregil was at once relieved and annoyed to find himself slumped naked in one of Nysander's sitting-room armchairs.
There was no need to ask how he'd gotten there; the green nausea of a translocation spell cramped his belly. Pushing his long, dark hair back from his face, he scowled wretchedly up at the wizard.
"Forgive me for bringing you here so abruptly, dear boy," said Nysander, handing him a robe and a steaming mug of tea.
"I assume there's a good reason for this," Seregil muttered, knowing very well that there must be for Nysander to subject him to magic so soon after the shape-changing incident.
"But of course. I tried to bring you earlier, but you two were busy burgling someone." Pouring himself a mug of tea, Nysander settled into his usual chair on the other side of the health. "I just looked in for a moment. Were you successful?"
"More or less." Nysander appeared in no hurry to elucidate, but it was obvious he'd been working on something. His short grey beard was smudged with ink near his mouth, and he wore one of the threadbare old robes he favored for his frequent all-night work sessions. Surrounded by the room's magnificent collection of books and oddities, he looked like some down-at-the-heels scholar who'd wandered in by mistake.
"Alec is looking better, I noticed," Nysander remarked.
"He's healing. It's his hair I'm concerned about. I've got to get him presentable in time for the Festival of Sakor."
"Be thankful he came away no worse off then he did. From what Klia and Micum told me, he's lucky to be alive at all. Ah, and before I forget, I have something for the two of you from Klia and the Queen." He handed Seregil two velvet pouches. "A public acknowledgment is impossible, of course, but they wished to express their gratitude nonetheless. That green one there is yours."
Seregil had received such rewards before. Expecting another trinket or bit of jewelry, he opened the little bag. What he found inside reduced him to stunned silence.
It was a ring, a very familiar ring. The great, smooth ruby glowed like wine in its heavy setting of Aurenfaie silver when he held it closer to the fire.
"Illior's Light, Nysander, this is one of the rings I took from Corruth i Glamien's corpse," he gasped, finding his voice at last.
Nysander leaned forward and clasped his hand. "He was your kinsman and Idrilain's, Seregil. She thought it a fitting reward for solving the mystery of his disappearance. She hopes you shall wear it with honor among your own people one day."
"Give her my thanks." Seregil tucked it reverently away in its bag. "But you didn't magick me out of bed just for this?"
Nysander sat back with a chuckle. "No. I have a task which may be of interest to you. However, there are conditions to be set forth before I explain. Agree to abide by them or I shall send you back now with all memory of this meeting expunged."
Seregil blinked in surprise. "It must be some job. Why didn't you bring Alec?"
"I shall come to that presently. I can say nothing until you agree to the conditions."
"Fine. I agree. What are they?"
"First, you may ask no question unbidden."
"Why not?"
"Starting now."
"Oh, all right. What else?"
"Second, you must work in absolute secrecy. No one is to know of this, particularly not Alec or Micum. Will you give me your oath on it?"
Seregil regarded him in silence for a moment; keeping secrets from Alec was no easy business these days. Still, how could something so shrouded in mystery fail to be interesting?
"All right. You have my word."
"Your oath," Nysander insisted somberly.
Shaking his head, Seregil held out his left hand, palm up, before him. "Asurit betuth dos Aura Elustri kamar sosui Seregil i Korit Solun Meringil Bokthersa. And by my honor as a Watcher, I swear also. Is that sufficient?"
"You know I would never impose such conditions on you without good reason," the wizard chided.
"Still, it seems to be happening quite a lot these days," Seregil retorted sourly. "Now can I ask questions?"
"I will answer what I can."
"Why is it so crucial for Alec and Micum not to know?"
"Because if you let slip the slightest detail of what I am about to tell you, I shall have to kill all of you."
Though spoken calmly, Nysander's words jolted him like a kick in the throat; he'd known the wizard too long to mistake his absolute sincerity. For an instant, Seregil felt as if he were looking into the face of a stranger. Then suddenly, everything fell into place as neatly as a three-tumbler lock. He sat forward, slopping hot tea over his knees in his excitement.
"It's to do with this, isn't it?" he exclaimed, tapping his chest. There, beneath Nysander's obscuring magic, lay the branded imprint of the wooden disk he'd stolen from Duke Mardus at Wolde--the same strange, deceptively crude disk that had nearly taken his life. "You went white the night I told you about showing a drawing of it to the Illioran Oracle. I thought you were going to fall over."
"Perhaps now you understand my distress," Nysander replied grimly.
They'd never spoken of that conversation, but the dread Seregil had felt then returned now in full force. "Bilairy's Balls! You'd have done it, too."
Nysander sighed heavily. `'I would never have forgiven myself, I assure you, but I would also have been furious with you for forcing me into such an act. Do you recall what I said to you then?"
"To pray I never found out what that disk really is?"
"Precisely. And to undertake this task, you must continue to accept that as my answer on the subject."
Seregil slouched glumly in his chair. "Same old answer, eh? And what if I say no to all this? That if you don't tell me the whole story I want no part of it?"
Nysander shrugged. "Then as I said before, I shall remove all memory of this conversation from your mind and send you home. There are certainly others who could aid me."
"Like Thero, I suppose?" Seregil snapped before he could stop himself.
"Oh, for--"
"Does he know the Great Secret?" The old jealousy gripped Seregil's heart. The last thing he wanted to hear was that the young assistant wizard knew more of this than he did.
"He knows less than you," Nysander replied, exasperated. "Now do you want the task or not?"
Seregil let out a frustrated growl. "All right, then. What's this all about?"
Nysander pulled a sheet of vellum from his sleeve and handed it to him. "To begin with, tell me what you make of this."
"Looks like a page from a book." The vellum was darkened with age or weather. Seregil rubbed a corner of it between his fingers and sniffed it, then examined the writing itself. "It's old, four or five centuries at least. Poorly kept at first though later carefully preserved. And the vellum is human or Aurenfaie skin, rather than kid." He paused again, examining the stitching holes on the left edge. "These are still intact, showing that it was carefully removed from a book, rather than torn. It was already damaged b... --This text refers to the Mass Market Paperback edition.
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More About the Author
Lynn Flewelling is the author of two internationally acclaimed series: The Nightrunner Series and the Tamír Triad. Her books have been published in a dozen countries, including Japan and Russia. A Maine native, she currently resides in sunny southern California with her husband Douglas and two naughty dogs.
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
38 of 40 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Strongly recommended,
By
This review is from: Stalking Darkness (Nightrunner, Vol. 2) (Mass Market Paperback)
My Scale:1 star--wretched, don't bother; 2 stars-somebody will like it, flawed; 3 stars-pretty darn good with some flaws; 4 stars-great, I'll re-read it; 5 stars-flawless, a classic of the genre. This is the second novel in the Nightrunner series, continuing the story begun in *Luck in the Shadows*. The World: From what the author reveals of Skala, we can say that it is an egalitarian society ruled by a Queen. Of some importance to the novel's development, Skalan social mores are accepting of sexual variation and sexual behavior. There seems to be no societal bias towards any given form of sexual orientation. There are public houses of prostitution for men and women both heterosexual and homosexual. The Plot: The leading foreign enemy is the Plenimarian Lord Mardus and his sorcerer Vargul Ashnazai, who are seeking to re-establish Plenimar as the supreme state, with the Nameless God as its tutelary deity. Mardus uses espionage, trickery and necromancy. He and his sorcerer are trying to reunite a set of magical tools, which when together will enable the Nameless God to manifest and rule the earth. On a more mundane plane, economic tensions between Skala and Plenimar are growing, leading to the threat of conventional war. The leading internal enemies of the Queen is the conspiracy known as the Lorans, Skalan nobles who loathe the part-Aurenfaie ruling family and wish to return to a line of succession that is human-only. The novel continues the interwoven stories of Seregil and Alec in their dual roles as foppish nobles and spies; Nysander and the Watchers battling the growing threat from Mardus and his necromancers; and Beka Cavendish (daughter of Seregil's fellow Watcher Micum Cavendish), who is newly enlisted in the Queen's army and shows us the military aspect of Skala's fight for freedom. The Review: There is somewhat more overt sexuality of various orientations in this book than the previous, but Flewelling handles the scenes in a manner somewhat less salacious than your average episode of *Friends*. I wouldn't object to my middle-school daughter reading this series (By contrast, Laurell Hamilton's Anita Blake series is off-limits for another couple of years, and her new series is too sexual for even for me). Again, if you find bisexuality or homosexuality offensive, don't read this series. The challenges of back-story presentation and of building suspense to the climax are also handled in a particularly adroit fashion. Flewelling's use of the device of giving young Alec a history lesson as a way of establishing the Skalan back-story is much less intrusive in this volume than the previous one. The nnnovel has a satisfying internal rhythm as the stories braid together, with internal sub-conlflicts built up and resolved until the denouement and resolution at the end.
19 of 20 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Love in a time of darkness,
By Phome "phome" (NY, USA) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Stalking Darkness (Nightrunner, Vol. 2) (Mass Market Paperback)
I had to review this book because I can't get it out of my head (and I'd quite like to get on with some work). I read the entire Nightrunner series, twice. In a week. There was so much joy in reading it, that I felt the need to repeat the experience. It was just as good the second time round, if not better, because I took more time to gush over particular passages and characters. I'm hooked for good, I reckon.It may seem strange that I chose to review the second book in the series. I do so because this installment resonated with me more deeply than the other two (I just barely restrained myself from reading it a third time). The first book is really mostly an introduction to Seregil and Alec, the world of Skala, streets of Rhiminee, characters of wizardry, thievery, royal lines, gods, etc. Though strong in its own right, it delves a little too deeply in historical and religious set-ups. The third book, on the other hand, develops the world of Aurenfaie and makes for a complex read of clans and interrelations, each with lengthy names and extensive personal networks that requires quite a bit of concentration. In contrast, this second book focuses mainly on the relationship between Seregil and Alec, and how their friendship grows into a much deeper love in the face of tremendous odds. This book focuses on growth. Alec becomes a confident spy. Seregil a marvelous teacher. While Alec comes of age, learning the ins and outs of intrigues among high society, he gains a mature understanding of love (in the 21st century, thank you Ms. Flewelling!), Seregil also grows, by learning that everything in life has its price. Needless to say, it's the awkward growth of the keen, pristine love between Alec and Seregil that is most preciously exquisite. Stalking Darkness is a book of balance and contrast. Love against evil. Fantasy that lives in a very real reality. Nobility versus thievery and sewage workers. The sweet friendship that grows between all characters in the beginning of the book is genuine and realistic. It is a beautiful counterpoint to the dark ending. Rarely have I come across a book so alive. This book has it all: love, evil, torture, sacrifice, trickery, humor, friendship, misunderstanding and realization. Within an apparent simplicity of writing, Ms. Flewelling demonstrates a huge talent for drawing us into a real world of characters we genuinely care about.
19 of 22 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Forget your prejudices! This book is excellent!,
By gillianm@powerup.com.au (Queensland Australia) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Stalking Darkness (Nightrunner, Vol. 2) (Mass Market Paperback)
Buy this book! Ignore the bigots who are 'uncomfortable' about the guys relationship. Sheesh, what is this 1899?? In my opinion the refreshing openness of the growing love between Alec and Seregil is one of the best things about this series. The fact that they are both males doesn't change the fact that they are *soulmates*. (In fact, it enhances it for me ^.^) This story is a lot deeper and darker than 'Luck in the Shadows'. The plot races along, the characters capture you, and the end is just stunning. LF has created the finest universe in fantasy fiction, and her characters have carved a place in my heart. I recommend the third book in this universe, 'Traitor's Moon' as well, it is even better than this one, hard as it is to believe. The sad bigots out there might want to avoid it though, as the heroes relationship is woven beautifully throughout the story. Nothing explicit, but their love shines through, and is a vital part of the plot. Thanks LF!
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