Squatting down, he buried his hands in the jewels, watching the waving glow that surrounded them, a veritable carpet of life threads. Under the elixir’s influence, he could see them even better, see how they extended to fill the room, waving like sea grass under the swells. Lifting a handful of the jewels, he pressed them to his face to cool it. Precious jewels, indeed. So precious.

Just one more … Just one more …

Shaking now, he went to the rack and pulled out a labeled elixir, one of the “special vintages” as he thought of them, made from the soul of a disgraced, very drunk soldier he’d met in the Ring. It wasn’t labeled; he hadn’t bothered to ask when he traded him a lucky “dragon’s tooth” for the tiny military charm soaking inside this phial. Such life and experience! Oh, this one would be fine. He cracked the seal and sucked down the bitter contents, then let out a cry as the concentrated, properly aged elixir struck his belly and mind. Colors wheeled around him, and snatches of beautiful music. He saw faces, felt the touch of hands upon his skin, the shuddering exultation of orgasms compounded by time, and life. So much life!

He came to lying on the floor next to the open jewel casket with no sense of how much time had passed. For all he knew, it could have been hours, or days. That was one of the dangers of overdoing things, but even now he felt the same old whisper of need.

Just one more …

No matter how many he drank, he was never quite sated, and he knew better than anyone living that drinking the powerful ones only made it worse. But he lacked Brader’s ability to deny himself the pleasure of excess.

Staggering to his feet, he pulled the parchment label from Laneus’s chain and fixed it to the empty phial with a few drops of wax. It pleased him to keep the empty bottles labeled until he needed them again, trophies to gloat over. He slid it in beside the empty one bearing Lady Kylith’s name and took off the bone necklace. Brader would be able to tell what he’d done, and he’d have to wear a little more cosmetic to keep the others from noticing, but ah, it had been worth it! He hadn’t indulged himself like this in months.

Reeling a little, he put the room back in order, avoiding looking at the racks and their still-enticing contents.

Chapter 29 - Accusations

THE following morning Seregil woke to an insistent knock on the bedchamber door. Sliding out from under Alec’s arm, he pulled on his dressing gown and went to answer it.

“Forgive me for waking you, my lord,” said Runcer. “Lord Thero is downstairs and is most insistent that you and Lord Alec come down.”

“I see. Tell him we’re on our way.”