Nic tried to evade them, but she hit her back against the curved stone wall.

“And you’ll teach me this?” Sergio asked eagerly. “You promised that I’ll have access to Nic’s abilities as well as mine.”

“Yes, yes,” Lord Elal answered with some irritation, not bothering to look back at Sergio. “As we agreed. Though you’ll have to find a way to contain her in alternate form long enough. It requires tremendous self-discipline to forgo your familiar’s magic long enough for their will to entirely dissolve.” He eyed Nic curiously. “Is the proctor’s report accurate, that your alternate form is a monstrous bird?”

“You are the monster,” she whispered, trapped, unable to look away from her mother’s blank and alien gaze.

“And you are my progeny,” her father answered with a gentle smile. “As such, you will be a credit to House Elal, no matter how much of your mind and will we have to break in order for you to be properly reshaped. Leave us, Sergio.”

“But I—”

“Go.” Her father cracked out the command, power shivering through the little room. “And lock the door. I’ll summon you when I’m ready.”

Sergio grumbled but obeyed. Her father focused on Nic, and his wizardry hit her like a vise clamped over her skull, clumsier than any thought-seeker she’d experienced. But then, he’d never trained in these skills. Only his megalomania made him believe he could do this without training. “Tell me where the House Phel arcanium is located.”

Ham-fisted or not, he did have considerable power behind the command, and Nic fought the urge to tell him everything. The best she could do was a bit of side-stepping. “Sunk,” she answered.

He frowned. “Sunk where?”

“Under the water.” With her obedience and truthfulness, the pressure on her skull eased. “Lost,” she added, which was also true. It had been lost for ages, until she and Gabriel found it.

“That can’t be,” her father growled, wizard-black eyes going depthless as he exerted the thought-seeking command upon her. “How was it lost?”

“The wizards died out, the family moved away. The house sank into the marshes.” It was getting easier to offer a partial truth, though she was grimly amused that she was forced to use the correct term “marshes,” instead of “swamps,” as she’d intended. Gabriel would be proud, and the thought made her feel like she was bleeding inside. “Why do you want it?” she asked, more hoping to lessen the pressure on her mind for a moment by distracting her father than because she believed he’d tell her.

But he looked thoughtful. “Why does anyone want anything? Power. That’s the only thing that matters in this world.”

“That’s the only thing that matters in your world.” With the truth compulsion still on her, she spoke aloud what she’d intended to keep to the silence of her own thoughts.

Her father laughed, black eyes glittering like knives. “In all the world,” he corrected gently. “Everything else is a lie, an illusion. I’m curious, though, what you think matters. Do tell.”