Nic searched Maman’s face, seeking a hint of exaggeration, but there was none. In her heart, Nic knew it, too. That was the final, unspoken reason she hadn’t asked to be excused from the Betrothal Trials. When she’d made jokes about it, mentioned some classmates who’d opted out in favor of the few other, admittedly unhappy choices, Papa had cut her off immediately. He’d been so proud of her talents, her innate power—and he’d been perhaps more disappointed than anyone when Nic didn’t test as a wizard.
He’d changed toward her even then, no longer discussing Convocation politics and house business with her, instead praising her many virtues in terms of the credit she’d bring to House Elal. The wizard she’d someday marry and what a jewel she’d be for him. Maman spoke only the truth.
Papa loved and treasured her—and he’d hand her over to Lord Phel without a backward glance. “Lord Phel deserves a chance to rebuild his house, same as any other man,” Papa had said when he told her he’d approved Lord Phel’s application and appreciated that she hadn’t summarily dismissed him. “More than most of these soft, indulged scions who can barely charm a fire elemental to burning brighter. He’s got balls even trying for you, kitten. I’m not going to deny him that opportunity, no matter the naysayers. I’m glad you’re not either.”
No, Papa would never forgive her reneging on Lord Phel, or for breaking Convocation law. The glum thought had Nic nearly reconsidering. But Maman was also right that Papa wouldn’t give a thought to what Nic’s life would be as Lord Phel’s familiar. After all, he didn’t hesitate to use Maman until she was fainting. Hadn’t Nic seen that all too many times? Papa loved Maman, too, treasured her, even. Unstinting in his praise and petting of Maman, he still chided her if she failed him in any way.
She rarely failed, and now Nic fully understood why.
Maman was watching Nic, wisely staying silent, as if she knew the path of her daughter’s thoughts. Probably she did. “All right,” Nic finally said. “I’ll make sure Papa never guesses.” When her mother visibly relaxed, Nic reminded herself of the great risk Maman would be taking on her behalf. “When they discover I’m gone, you must also make sure to be shocked and surprised. He can’t suspect that you were part of this.”
“I know how to manage my wizard,” Maman replied tartly. “That’s no business of yours to think about.” She relented then, squeezing Nic’s hand. “I will be careful.” She smiled sadly. “I’m going to hate losing you, but I’ll make sure your tracks are well covered so they can’t follow you. After that, it will be up to you to ensure you’re never found.”
What? Never?“Am I… never coming back?” Here she’d been wistful about not getting to drink Elal Summer Red as often. Clearly she had yet to think through just how much she would be giving up to make this escape, how much she’d be giving up.Everything.“How far am I to go?”
Her mother’s hands tightened, giving hers a brisk shake. “Far enough that the Convocation laws can’t reach you. Otherwise, you can be brought back, and it won’t be pretty.”
“Are the rumors about the Tadkiel hunters true?” Nic asked in a hush.
“Some of those stories are true, but the hunters will be only part of your worries. Lord Phel will be beyond angry. Remember that he’s desperate—and you’ll be stealing his child and his hope for the future of House Phel.”
His child.“This is my child,” Nic replied stubbornly.
“Not according to the Convocation.”
That was true.
“If you decide on escape,” Maman continued, taking in Nic’s subdued frown, “and you don’t have to—you can still change your mind. But if you do, you’re committed. For life. You must make certain that neither Lord Phel nor the Convocation ever finds you.”
She would never see her family and friends again. She would be alone, raising a child. Pregnant and giving birth, all on her own. “How will I do this all alone?” she asked plaintively, feeling suddenly much younger than her years.
“I’ll make sure you’re well funded,” Maman promised. “Compared to the rest of it, that part is easy.”
Money wasn’t what Nic had been thinking of—which, perhaps, was a sign that her priorities were misplaced. With House Elal’s wealth, Nic had never wanted for anything. She had but to ask for something and it was hers. Often it was hers before she formed the desire. Lord Phel had made note of that, his observation sardonic, even self-deprecating.I won’t be able to house you like this. Not now. Maybe not ever.She imagined a silvery caress and the scent of water, wondering if she even had two and a half days.
“I think we’d better plan to have me gone before two days have passed,” she said in a burst, the urgency gripping her.
Maman took note with narrowed eyes. “You have that much connection to him?”
Nic stilled, feeling the blood drain from her face. “Is that possible?”
“It’s not usual, but yes—possible. Especially given the Fascination.”
“Maybe so, then. I just have… a very strong feeling.”
“Then we take note of that. We need to have you gone two nights hence. But try not to think about him too much, as that feeds the connection. Don’t give him anything to track you with.”
Don’t think about him.Right. Don’t think about the silver sea monster taking up all the space in the room, either.
“Nic?” Maman had a warning in her voice.
“I understand.”
“When you’re on the run, too, you pay attention to that feeling. Promise me. It will warn you if he’s managed to track you, if he’s closing in.”
How was she to both not think about him but also pay attention to that sense of his nearness? This began to seem impossible. “But you’ll make sure he can’t track me, yes?” she asked, panic fluttering in her breast. The image of those wizard-black eyes gone hard and ruthless drifted through her mind. Lord Phel would be even less forgiving than her father.All the more reason not to let him catch you.
“I’ll use every trick I know, call in every favor I can,” Maman promised, then let go of her hands. “But remember: he’s a wizard. You know the reasons their kind rules ours. You’ll have to be smart, courageous, determined, and cool-headed. No letting emotions—of any kind!—cloud your thinking.”