“No, I don’t,” she replied stiffly. Some wizards collared their familiars, sure, parading them around on leashes in human or alternate form, but that was considered gauche and over the top in polite society. Everyone in the Convocation knew that a familiar’s true bonds were invisible—and more unbreakable than any chain.
“Regular ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” He pointed at the sprawling building ahead, generously lit with both standard lanterns and elemental ones. “There’s the inn. We did have a pair—star-crossed lovers or some such—come through a few weeks ago. They headed on pretty quick, but I’d lay odds on them making it. Smarter than most,” he added, sliding a look at her, “except the sacrificing-it-all-for-love part.”
“You don’t believe in sacrificing for love?”
He snorted. “No way. Why, do you?”
“Love is just a nice word for an invisible collar and chains,” she replied.
“Now that’s the smartest thing you’ve said.”
Gabriel studied thevague expression of the young redhead scuffing the toe of her boot in the dirty snow. Veronica wasn’t here. He’d know it if she were, but that silvery thread pulsed on her faintly far away. Still, shehadbeen here.
“Nope,” the redhead drawled, “I ain’t seen no fancy lady. We’re a working transfer station. Cargo only. No passengers. Sorry, milord.” She turned to go, giving him a wave.
“Not so fast,” he ordered, and she halted, turning back reluctantly. “Your boss says he saw you two days ago with an unidentified young woman who has since disappeared.” Two days it had taken him to triangulate on this shipyard, which crawled with Lord Elal’s people. At least he hadn’t seen the hunters again, but if Lord Elal had recovered his daughter—likely, given that the warehouse was jammed with Elal exports and personnel—would he have sent word to Gabriel?
No. No, he would not.
The redhead—Dary, she’d said—screwed up her face in thought. “A lot of workers come through here, so I don’t know that I remember… Ye know how it is, milord, they try it out and find it not to their liking. Mining pays better.” She took in Gabriel’s gear, Vale following behind him. “Or mebbe ye don’t,” she added with a sneer.
He didn’t care to do this, but he didn’t have time to waste. Dary had met Veronica. The magical tinge of roses and red wine hung faintly in the air around her. Gabriel invoked a spell of slow compulsion, water eroding stone.
Dary smiled thinly. “Did I mention I’m immune to compulsion? Bit o’ wizard blood in me from way back. Besides, I can’t tell ye what I don’t know. Good luck to ye, though.” She waved more cheerfully and ambled off, whistling idly.
Gabriel swore to himself, staring out to the estuary, where the current kept flowing through the icy borders by water elementals leading from the busy pier downstream to sea. Veronica had to have gone that way, unless this was a red herring. He didn’t think so, however. That meant he’d have to find a boat. But to where? Dary’s boss had said they had dozens to a hundred barges leaving every day, to any of seventy-three ports. Yes, Gabriel could still track Veronica, as he had been—but the technique required triangulating, something he could only do with his own ship. Taking a merchant vessel with a set destination would only waste his time, bouncing from place to place, eliminating ports one by one.
He didn’t have that time to waste. He also didn’t have coin to buy a decent ship.
Maybe he should let Veronica go. If she wanted rid of him this badly, to go so far as to travel over the sea, then maybe the honorable thing would be to let her go. And his child with her. He could apply for another familiar, and eventually rebuild House Phel’s fortune again.
The thought of bedding another familiar left him more than cold, but better that than marrying a woman who’d hate him with every breath she drew. Weary to his bones and beyond disappointed to have it all end here, he turned to mount Vale.
And spotted the hunters.
They slunk like dirty fog through the shipyard, coiling down the steps to the pier—and to Dary, who sent up a bloodcurdling shriek. Ordering Vale to stay put, Gabriel ran to help the young woman, writhing in the grip of a hunter while another spoke to her. Her human fellows stood around in gaping confusion, unable to see what plagued her.
Gabriel skidded to a halt when the lead hunter slithered in front of him. “Ssso, wissard,” it hissed. “We meet again. Strange coinssidensse.”
“Get out of my way,” Gabriel ordered. He wasn’t sure what would kill this thing, but he put one hand on his sword and readied his magic.
“You will sstay here,” the hunter said mildly. And Gabriel found he couldn’t take a step.
Channeling power to a spell like a tidal wave to wash his path clear, he growled at the thing. “Let me go.”
“No need for violensse,” it said, canting its head to study him with its one unsettlingly slitted yellow eye.
“That looks plenty violent to me.” Gabriel jerked his head at the now sobbing Dary.
“A girl of no conssequensse, and ssubsstantial guilt. We can disscover what you could not: the locashion of your errant familiar, yess, Lord Phel?”
Denying it was useless, as the hunter had clearly discovered his identity. Annoying, but not surprising. What other wizard would be tracking the same quarry? “Leave that girl in peace or I will kill you all.”
“Will you?” The hunter snickered, droplets of spittle leaking through its sharp teeth. “It might be entertaining to ssee you try, but it iss of no matter.” Dary went silent and collapsed in a heap on the pier, people clustering about her as the hunters oozed away, except for one that remained, claws around Dary’s throat, choking her as she writhed feebly. “We have the informashion we need.” He glanced at the dying Dary. “And you won’t.”
“Where is she?” he ground out, giving up on being circumspect in the face of needing to know.
The hunter gave him a canny smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Go back to your sswampss, Lord Phel, and leave thiss work to uss. We are very good at it.”