She frowned up at him. “Why what?”
“If familiars can’t do magic on their own, why does the Convocation have so many laws to control them? What could possibly happen if familiars were allowed to simply run around on their own, without wizard masters?”
“Because, we—” She broke off, considering. “I guess I don’t really know. I never thought about it that way.”
“Something to think about, then.”
She gazed at him, green eyes wide and thoughtful, lips parted as if she might say something more. “I will.”
He released her arm before he succumbed to the temptation to kiss those inviting lips.
“None of that changes what is, however,” she added. “And that is that the Convocation will want to retrieve me. At any cost.”
“All the more reason to get you safely to Meresin.”
“They’ll never find me in all those swamps,” Nic declared, shooting a triumphant fist in the air.
“You really are in a mood,” he muttered.
Nic changed her raised fist to an obscene gesture, smiling broadly in counterpoint. He just shook his head. The Iblis locksmith’s carriage house and stables, unlike the residence, had its doors open to the busy street. An Elal wagon stood halfway out, being loaded with supplies. Narlis included.
The old woman sat shivering in the back, wedged between a couple of casks—with not even a blanket. As Nic had predicted, she wasn’t wearing the collar anymore. Small mercies. The Iblis wizard had his back to them, officiously railing at a boy staggering under the weight of a trunk. Probably loaded with collars for Convocation Center. Gabriel fingered the hilt of his sword. It would be child’s play to simply drive his blade through the wizard’s liver and leave him there in the street to rot. Most satisfying.
Nic put a hand on his arm, her face completely serious, all hint of mood and mischief fled. “Don’t do it,” she said quietly. “You joke, but starting wars with other houses, even one that’s second tier like Iblis, will only jeopardize what you’ve been working toward.”
“I don’t care about—”
“Don’t you?” she cut in, giving him a hard look. “We’ve both sacrificed for this future you’ve planned. If you destroy House Phel’s prospects now, you’ll take me down with it. Is that what you want—for the momentary satisfaction of murdering a wizard not worth even your passing attention?” She leaned in, her scent hothouse sweet and somehow redolent of summer heat even in the chill air. “There will be other battles to fight. Bigger, harder, more important. If you’re serious about change, if you plan to take on the Convocation, then don’t tip your hand now.”
He considered her words and nodded. “Iblis!” he shouted.
The wizard turned, bobbled, mouth gaping in surprise. Then he pasted on his obsequious shopkeeper’s grin, no doubt hoping Gabriel hadn’t guessed his planned betrayal. “Wizard Phel, what a pleasure. Decided on a collar for your pet after all? I’m afraid I’m off on an errand, so a custom job is out of the question, but I do have a nice supply of premades here. Boy! Put down that chest.”
Tempted to pick up the chest of collars and chuck it into the sea, Gabriel caught Nic’s warning look and reined in the impulse. “No, I’m here to take Narlis off your hands.”
The Iblis wizard paused, face blank with incomprehension. “Narlis?”
The woman jerked at hearing her name from the wizard’s mouth. “Yes, master?”
He waved her silent, his greedy gaze going to Nic, licking his lips as actual drool threatened to escape. “A trade?” he asked tentatively, as if hardly daring to hope.
Gabriel’s fingers twitched at the thought of the man putting his hands on Nic. “Never,” he vowed.
“She’s not really yours,” the Iblis wizard replied in a wheedling tone. “They’ll be after you for stealing her. A trade is in your best interests.” His hard gaze traveled over Nic. “I know exactly how to deal with her.”
“He’ll never agree,” Nic said in a quiet sing-song. “You’re wasting your breath.”
As usual, she was right. “Narlis!” Gabriel called. “Would you like to come with us? I’m offering you a comfortable home, the retirement you deserve.” The woman cringed back between the flanking casks, shaking her head wildly.
The Iblis wizard pointed at his familiar, expression gloating. “See? She doesn’t want to go with you.”
“Let me talk to her,” Nic urged, and Gabriel nodded.
“You can’t steal another wizard’s familiar,” the Iblis wizard continued ranting, pushing into Gabriel’s face. This wouldn’t end well. “Is this what you do?” he demanded. “You travel around and steal unbonded familiars from honest wizards? I’m reporting you to the Convocation and—”
“Don’t,” he growled. Drawing his magic to him, he leaned in to loom over the shorter man. “Or I will cauterize your tongue and insert it up your ass where you keep the rest of your head.”
The Iblis wizard gaped at him, blanching and stuttering. Behind the man, Nic was helping Narlis down from the wagon, talking quietly to the old woman the whole time. Catching his eye, Nic nodded and turned the woman toward the steps leading up to the horses.