“I have to say,” Jadren El-Adrel drawled in a bored tone, “I’ve never read of precedent for the Convocation questioning a familiar’s alternate form. It’s well known that the shape a familiar takes is innate. I can’t imagine what you believe Lord Phel may have accomplished here.” He grinned at Gabriel. “My mother will be most interested, however.”

House El-Adrel would no doubt eat up every scrap of information Jadren fed them.

The proctor paused. “Wizard El-Adrel, I do not question the alternate form itself, but whether this inconclusive bonding is legitimate.”

Jadren raised a supercilious brow. “That’s not how it sounded. You stated that demonstration of alternate form would be proof of bonding.”

“The alternate form is irregular,” she protested, but her argument lacked force.

Jadren and Asa exchanged glances, then shook their heads in unison. “That’s not in your authority to decide,” Jadren informed her, pity in his tone.

“If Lord Phel does not have control of this… this beast,” the proctor persisted, “imagine the damage it could do.”

“But Lord Phel obviously has control,” Asa inserted. “As he can demonstrate by returning the familiar to human form, fully dressed.”

He gave Gabriel that look again, so Gabriel took the hint and hastily complied. Drawing the silver net of magic tight as he laid a hand on her sleek feathers, he envisioned Nic in all her fiery beauty, fully clothed.

“Wait, I—” The proctor protested too late. Nic stood where the silver phoenix had been, her gown rustling as it adjusted to her shape, emphasizing her lush figure. “I didn’t get to ask the oracle what that bird is,” the proctor finished unhappily.

“Some other time, perhaps,” Gabriel replied loftily, offering Nic his arm, seeing the weariness in her. “I must check the incantation now. I will see you all at dinner.”

Turning to the steps, he brought Nic along, concerned by the way she leaned heavily against him.

“Lord Phel, if I may have a word?” Asa inquired.

Gabriel nearly said no, then caught the look in the healer’s eye. He nodded stiffly, then proceeded to the library. The fire crackled cheerfully, the armchairs, freshly upholstered by the House Ophiel Wizard Dahlia, still where he and Nic had vacated them upon the proctor’s arrival. It felt like days ago, not hours. He helped Nic settle into one of them, his alarm increasing at her vacant expression. “What’s wrong with her?” he demanded.

Asa crouched before Nic, studying her face. “May I have your permission to touch Lady Phel?” he inquired carefully.

Gabriel nearly snapped at him but recalled his reaction at finding the healer’s hands on his wife before and grudgingly nodded.

Asa took Nic’s unresponsive hands in his. Laryn stood close behind him, ready to serve, no doubt, but Gabriel knew Nic wouldn’t like for the other woman to observe her debilitated state. Nic didn’t like anyone to see her as weak, no matter how much she proclaimed her comfort with her subservient status as a familiar. Besides, Laryn in particular was no friend of Nic’s. If Gabriel had known, he wouldn’t have accepted Asa’s application to be the House Phel healer. Water under the bridge.