“Too bad Lord Phel is otherwise occupied,” Sergio retorted, “and unable to stop me.” He watched her reaction with such obvious and cruel glee that Nic instantly realized what she should have the moment Laryn’s role in House Sammael’s appearance at this critical juncture truly meant. Laryn had also conveyed what few even in House Phel knew: that Gabriel was incapacitated, perhaps permanently.

Sergio smiled then, with true delight and no posturing. “I thought so. Come with me, Veronica Elal. Collar the familiar,” he casually ordered one of the hunters.

“No!” Alise shouted, her spirits manifesting to protect Nic.

“Sabrina, sweetheart,” Sergio drawled. “Why don’t you show your little playmate that it’s not nice to thwart us?”

Sabrina flipped her hair and smiled, her magic lancing through the air, hitting Alise like an invisible fireball. Everyone gasped, flinching back as Alise contorted in a rictus of agony, fingers curling into claws, a strangled scream wrenching out of her strained throat. She lost her grip on her own magic, the spirits vanishing again.

“Stop it.” Nic ordered with cool authority, striving to appear unmoved. “I will obey the terms of the warrant and cooperate in being conducted to Convocation Center.” Perhaps she could find a way to appeal her case there.

“But she stole my familiars,” Sabrina whined, sending another jolt through Alise.

Nic fought for control, reminding herself that Sammael punishment rarely did physical damage—the Convocation valued its wizards and familiars intact, if only as magical commodities—and mostly worked via tricking the mind and nervous system. “Does House Sammael truly want to anger House Elal by harming Lord Elal’s heir?” Nic asked Sergio, gambling that they couldn’t know of Alise’s reduced status. In truth, no one knew, as their father had yet to say anything about Alise’s departure from Convocation Academy.

Sergio eyed her, then flicked a hand at Sabrina. “Playtime is over.”

Sabrina stomped her foot in annoyance, but stopped. Alise collapsed to the ground, Jadren quickly moving to help her up. Sergio raised his voice, surveying the small gathering. “It would be unwise for anyone here to interfere with this lawful arrest.” He gestured to the hunters. “I don’t think you want to fight my deputies.” Sergio laughed at his own joke, Sabrina joining in, while everyone else stood around stone-faced. “I said to collar the familiar,” he ordered the hunter nearest him.

It advanced on Nic, another of the hated iron collars in its hands, the twin of the one she’d worn in Wartson. She squinted at the too-familiar thing. It could be the same one—and would be a fine joke from House Iblis to furnish the thing to the Convocation in a petty bit of retribution for Gabriel stealing their familiar. You stole ours, so we’ll be an agent of repossessing yours.

Alise glared at her in fury and terror. “You can’t mean to go with them, Nic.”

“This is a battle we can’t win. They have a warrant. I’ll be remanded into Convocation custody, where I’ll be examined, and Lord Phel’s claim on me verified. I’m pregnant with a valuable child,” she added in a lowered voice, touching Alise’s arm to soothe her. “They won’t dare hurt me.”