He led Maman away—who never once gave any sign she knew her daughter—leaving Nic reeling with the realization that her mother’s favorite advice had always come from her father’s mouth.

Vale stretched his legs in a ground-eating gallop, seeming to know that they raced on a mission to rescue Nic, one of the gelding’s favorite people. It was good to be moving. Or at least to feel some sort of progress, rather than the endless waiting.

It hadn’t helped that they’d taken a supply boat down the Dubglass River, which meant standing still, even though Gabriel knew in his head that they were making progress. It was the fastest and most anonymous way into Sammael lands. They’d disembarked well before Port Carica, taking the horses on back roads through the forested foothills of Sammael, the ground gradually rising as they made their way to the craggy peaks where House Sammael sat, perched like a vulture surveying the valley for the weak.

Of all of them, ironically enough, Selly was holding up the best. Her mental fragility didn’t translate to a lack of physical endurance. In fact, her long tenures in the wilds had toughened her dramatically. That and extended time with intensive healing from Asa had her looking bright-eyed and brimming with vitality.

In contrast, Gabriel felt like shit, though he was careful not to let on to his companions. Jadren and Han were unlikely to interrogate him, as both of them were unused to traveling by horseback, and so were sore, exhausted, and cranky about it. Alise didn’t complain, but she was also concentrating fiercely on using spirits to disguise evidence of their progress and intentions, as well as to guard against any spies that might be sent against them. They might be planning to knock on the front door, but they didn’t want to give Sammael, or Elal, forewarning or time to set traps for them.

Because Alise’s magic was critical to their approaching House Sammael undetected, only she was accessing Selly’s and Han’s magic. Gabriel’s was slowly returning on its own, but—even though he’d topped off in the arcanium before they left—he was aware of his weakened state still. He wanted to spare the familiars as much as possible until the time came when they’d need everything they had.

They also had to stop more frequently than he would have on his own, for people to refresh themselves and for their horses to rest. Gabriel missed when it had been just him and Vale, when they’d chased after Nic with single-minded intensity.

“This is brutal,” Jadren commented, stretching his body and grimacing, “how you backwoods types live. We invented carriages for a reason, you know.”

“Poor little soft and spoilt wizard,” Selly commented, digging some oranges out of her saddlebags and passing them around.

Jadren scowled at her but took one. “When you’ve bruised your balls against a saddle for a couple of days, you can talk to me about being soft and spoilt.”