Nic might be preceding him, but he was significantly taller than her, so he could see that the spiraling silver door at the entrance to the arcanium also stood open. He set his teeth against the rising fury. Nic had told him long ago that no wizard allowed any other wizard inside their arcanium—something Elal would also know. He knew full well the kind of theft he attempted. It was, perhaps, not the greatest of his transgressions, but it communicated Elal’s lack of regard for House Phel. Even when Lord Elal had encouraged, even worked his guile to promote, the match between Nic and him, the man had never meant his words. When he’d told his daughter that Gabriel deserved the chance to rebuild his house, he’d only wanted to seize this very opportunity.

Gabriel would see to it that he choked on it.

They reached the round entrance, the arcanium luminescent beyond from sunshine filtering through the lake water. The light glanced through the domed room, gleaming off the silver struts, turning the glittering mosaic-tiled floor into a whirl of color. The built-in cabinets and drawers all stood open, clearly ransacked, and a bag by the door bulged with Elal’s scavenged treasures.

Nic gave a soft cry, and Gabriel saw what alarmed her—her mother slumped unconscious on the floor, crumpled in the shadows of the curving wall, along with other things that had been dug out and discarded. As for Lord Elal himself, he stood at the center of the tiled spiral, arms upraised to the moon window above, his body a rictus of effort.

He turned slowly at Nic’s exclamation, like a man in a daze. Focusing, he dropped his arms, his face a picture of offended incredulity that Gabriel found immensely satisfying. Stepping to the side, he nodded at Nic to tend to her mother and confronted the invader. “Elal,” he ground out. “You trespass unforgivably.”

Lord Elal goggled a moment longer, his black eyes going to the bloodied sword. “I don’t know how you penetrated House Sammael to reclaim my daughter,” he said, his gaze flicking to Nic. “Either way, you’re meant to be dead, Phel.”

Gabriel allowed a slight smile. “I elected to live—and to kill your lackey.”

Elal gathered his self-possession, very much as his daughters did, firming his chin. “Sammael was a poor tool, easily bent and broken. If you expect me to mourn his loss, you’ll be disappointed. You’ve actually done me a favor, ridding me of excess baggage.”

The wizard was stalling, gathering his magic for an attack. Gabriel had encountered Elal’s power once before, when he challenged the wizard over Nic’s absence, and he was quite certain it had been stronger then. The Elal wizard had clearly drained Nic’s mother to the point of unconsciousness and, though he’d managed to penetrate and loot the Phel arcanium, Gabriel very much doubted whether the man had gleaned much magic.

“Have you found yourself able to use water and moon magic?” Gabriel inquired silkily, following Elal as he pivoted, keeping the sword pointed squarely at him.