“Lord Phel can be both,” Asa noted wryly, without rancor, and Gabriel found himself unexpectedly grinning back at the healer.

“Regardless,” the proctor spoke up, her voice ringing with authority, “the Convocation’s laws take precedence over house rules, Lord Phel. You are already on tenuous ground, given your nonstandard bonding of your own familiar and your house’s willful concealment of an untapped rogue familiar, jeopardizing her health and sanity. Those are grave trespasses, Lord Phel, and the Convocation will not take them lightly when I report back. I will verify that you have no regard for Convocation law. You won’t have to be concerned with Lady Phel when your house status is revoked and both Lady Veronica Elal and Seliah Phel are taken into protective custody by the Convocation.” She smiled in smug triumph.

Gabriel gave her a cold look, barely containing the urge to kill.

“Don’t do it,” Nic warned under her breath, clutching his hand tightly. Someone gasped as silver condensed in the air, shimmering down onto the table like a gentle rain.

“Why are you still here?” he asked the proctor conversationally.

She lifted her chin. “As you are well aware, Lord Phel, I’m awaiting the return of your sister, so that I can—”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Gabriel said, cutting her off and, letting go of Nic’s hand, rising to his feet. More silver condensed in the air, along with a silver spike that hovered menacingly before the proctor’s right eye. Outside, the downpour increased, thundering on the roof high overhead. “What confuses me,” he added silkily, “is why you value your own life so little.”

Her mouth fell open. “You wouldn’t dare!”

He solidified a second silver spike to hover before her left eye. “By your own words, you’ve judged me as a scofflaw. And you’re right. I don’t care about Convocation law, which means you have no protection.”

“Murdering a Convocation proctor would result in…” She trailed off.

“The same consequence you just threatened,” Sage Quinn put in softly. “Lord Phel, with all due respect, I feel I must point out that everyone in this room would be judged an accessory to that murder if we don’t attempt to stop you.”

“How can we stop him?” Jadren asked in a newly respectful and hushed tone. “Look at what he’s doing. And he’s not even touching his familiar right now. This is all him. That’s serious power.”

“The Convocation won’t see it that way,” Wolfgang, the Ratisbon furniture wizard observed, sounding not at all concerned, though he put a comforting arm around his familiar, Costa.

“Lord Phel.” Nic had risen to her feet also. “You’ve made your point.”

Keeping his gaze on the proctor, he slid the silver spikes slightly closer to the woman’s tightly closed eyes. As if that could protect her. She was pressed, tense and terrified, against the high back of the chair, with nowhere else to retreat, clawed fingers digging into the arms of the chair. Someone whimpered.

“Gabriel,” Nic said, her voice warm, pushing through the sharp silver roar of his magic. “I’m asking you to stop now. Trust me. Stop it here.”