“Oooh, that’s a good idea.”

“I can just thicken the surface and monitor it. That way I’ll know if it’s trying to emerge.” His magic surged, and the black surface of the water turned less shiny. “Other than this, is there anything else you see to prevent us from opening the workshop to our minions?”

“Let’s do a circuit.”

They explored the rest of the room, which was saliently empty of much else. Lots of high workbenches and lower tables for seated studies. The cabinets built into the walls were empty—they checked every one, just in case—and nothing else jumped out at them, figuratively or literally. Not even submerged swamp creatures. She pointed out to Gabriel how each cabinet had a separate lock, so individual wizards could privately store supplies and equipment. They’d had a setup much like it at Convocation Academy. That was, the wizards had. Familiars didn’t really need any tools but themselves.

Having finished their assessment, they carried their lanterns out again, Gabriel locking the door and pocketing the key. “If I allow the wizards into the workroom on the condition they stay away from the pit, do you think they’ll comply?”

“You’re the mighty Lord Phel,” she said cheerfully. “They’d better obey you. If they don’t, you can send a silver spike through their eye!”

He winced, and she patted his arm. “Too soon?”

“No, I deserved it,” he allowed.

“Quinn described you as deliciously virile,” she told him, watching out of the side of her eye for his reaction.

To her immense satisfaction, he actually blushed. “I could have lived a long time without knowing that.”

Laughing, Nic hooked her arm through the crook of his, hugging herself against his muscled strength. “Apparently everyone was tremendously impressed by your display of power and wizardly rage last night.”

“You are going to tease me about this forever, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes. At least, until you do something even juicier.”

“Wonderful.” He sounded grumpy, but his lips twitched in a reluctant smile. Then he lifted his head, like a hound scenting something interesting on the wind. “Someone’s arriving,” he told Nic before she could ask. “And—your favorite phrase—you were right. I am getting better at discerning the signatures of the wizards and familiars of our own house from new ones.” His brow wrinkled as they entered the main house and turned toward the front doors. He stopped abruptly, alarm rippling through his magic. “Nic…” Looking at her, he hesitated.

“Just tell me.”

“The wizard feels like Elal magic.”

~ 6 ~

Gabriel felt Nic’s magic tense and recoil, withdrawing in apprehension, though she was far too well trained and regally composed to reveal anything in her manner. “An Elal wizard, come to Meresin,” she mused. “And they said it could never happen.”

Gabriel hugged her arm to him, relieved she could retain a sense of humor. “I think you should go hide in the arcanium. Let me take you there, and I’ll deal with our visitors.”

She lifted her chin in that obstinate tilt that told him of her refusal even before she spoke. “Absolutely not. I refuse to cower and hide away like a criminal. You’ve made it clear that you stand behind me as Lady Phel. I’m not undermining that now.”