He screamed when one leapt out of the shadows, raking him from shoulder to groin with its claws.
~ 6 ~
Gabriel Phel paced the sloping, lushly grassy bank of the lake that graced the front of House Phel, and glared at the water. He valued the arcanium of course—and was infinitely glad that he and Nic had managed to reclaim both it and its magic by evicting her father, the conniving Lord Elal, from the private sanctity of the underwater dome—but he could wish his ancestors had put the arcanium atop a tower as seemed to be traditional for most of the Convocation.
It just figured that his family had to be contrary.
What he needed was something high, so he could see a long distance. Not something submerged in the watery depths of a lake. Frustrated, he kicked a rock into the placid water, the ripples sparkling prettily in the morning light as if nothing in the world was wrong.
“Has the lake offended you?” Nic asked, raising a brow as she approached him, her deep green skirts gathered in her hands as she picked her way through the waving grasses. As he’d hoped when he commissioned the gown, the color of the fabric brought out the rich emerald of her eyes, complimenting her dusky complexion, and the exquisite cut set off her voluptuous figure. “Or are you practicing skipping stones with your feet, perhaps?” she added with a teasing quirk of her full mouth.
He held out a hand to her, smiling ruefully. “I already know how to skip stones and hands work best for that—though that children’s trick will do nothing to help me locate Selly and Jadren.”
She slipped her warm hand into his, fire and sun-warmed roses filtering into him as her magic flowed with generosity as lush as her passionate nature. “They’ll make it back here.”
“They haven’t yet,” he reminded her, unnecessarily.
“They missed catching the barge upriver is all. That means they have to ride overland and that takes longer.”
He knew that. It didn’t ease his worries. Usually he appreciated her practicality, but at the moment he had no patience for it. Dropping her hand, he waved at the pastoral scene. “I can’t simply sit here and do nothing.”
“You’re not simply sitting here,” she pointed out. “You’re pacing around the lake and frightening the minions.”
“I thought it was my job to play arrogant Lord Phel and frighten the minions,” he retorted, too worked up to be amused by her attempt at a joke.
“Yes and it is—except that they’re already unsettled and afraid, having been nearly mass-murdered by House Sammael. Our people need you to be strong for them.”
That she said “our people” instead of “your people” mollified him enough to attempt to rein in his annoyance, and worry. “Mom came at me this morning,” he said on a sigh.
Nic winced in sympathy. “I can just imagine the state Daisy is in, worrying about Selly.”
Gabriel nodded, releasing a sigh of part frustration and part resignation. “My parents both still see Selly as a child.”
“Most parents never stop seeing their progeny as children, even when they’ve been adults for decades.”
“True. Though we won’t do that.” He gave her a fond smile, because he did appreciate her making the effort to talk him out of his tree, and laid a hand over her still-flat belly where their child grew.
She gazed up at him, love warm in her gaze. “We probably will do that. It’s a parent’s job to drive their children crazy.”
Children. He only hoped that would come to be, that this child would live to grow up in peace and prosperity, followed by siblings. It worried him, though, that the children he and Nic would make would undoubtedly have magic, which meant the Convocation would dig its claws into them and distort their lives into twisted versions of indentured servitude. He hadn’t even been able to keep Selly safe—the sinking fear that something had happened to her ate away at him.
He sobered as he recalled his mother’s half-hysterical tirade. “It’s worse with Selly. Maybe it’s the guilt. They feel responsible for not knowing the magic was eating Selly alive, that they could have helped her and didn’t.”
“Gabriel,” Nic said softly, sorrow in her face. “They couldn’t have known. You couldn’t have known. Not everything is within your control.”
They both knew they were no longer talking about Selly as she was then, but Selly now. “I shouldn’t have let her come with us. She’s only just emerged from the madness and she’s still so frail, so…” tenuous in her sanity.
Though he didn’t speak the words aloud, Nic followed his thoughts with ease. “I wouldn’t let Selly hear you say that. She’s an adult woman. Yes, she’s been mentally ill, but none of us wants to be treated as if we’re less than. She was perfectly sane when she volunteered to come with you and when she offered to stay behind to assist Jadren.” She paused reflectively. “I think Jadren will actually be good for her.”
“Are we talking about the same Jadren?” he asked incredulously. “The arrogant asshole planted in our house as a spy, likely as a tool in the conspiracy between El-Adrel and Elal to control or destroy House Phel.”
Nic waited him out with a gimlet gaze. “Yes, as a matter of fact. Also the same Jadren who nearly died taking over draining Selly’s magic after you collapsed from the effort. You were unconscious, so you didn’t see, but he had no reason to endanger himself that way. He’s also the same Jadren who accompanied you to rescue me. Those weren’t the actions of an malicious tool. He may be an ass, but a good heart lurks under that hard shell.”
“He was unkind to you,” Gabriel reminded her, knowing that it had happened, even if Nic had refused to give details. “And he’s harsh with Selly.”
“Yes, which is why I think he might be good for her. Selly needs to find her foundation in herself again, to trust herself and her magic, to not be treated like she might fall apart at any moment.”
He glared at her, furious and offended. That was not how he’d treated Selly. Besides, he knew his own sister, didn’t he? “And you gleaned that about her from the all of, what, three minutes you spent with her between transforming back to human form and getting on Salve to ride away?”
