“On the contrary, I would call it a brave and creative choice,” Abelard said, smiling gleefully. Maybe she wasn’t High Wizard herself, but she was sticking it to her enemies. She and Gryphon were the only ones who seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Abelard, of course, had no idea that Han’s plans to win over Gryphon had fallen into a shambles.

“Perhaps we should table this vote until Lord Gryphon has regained his senses,” Lord Mander said hastily. “It was a mistake to allow him to attend a meeting so soon.”

“Actually, I have never been clearer in my mind. And this discussion is reinforcing the wisdom of my decision.” Gryphon straightened, his mouth hardening into a thin line.

Han finally came to his own senses. “It seems to me that the vote has been taken in a fair fashion, and the results should be accepted. We should leave off second-guessing Lord Gryphon and move on to other business.”

“Of course you would say that,” Mander said bitterly.

“I suggest we adjourn for now and allow cooler heads to prevail,” Lord Bayar said, raising his gavel. “We can reconsider this at our next meeting.”

“I thought it was extremely urgent that we decide,” Abelard said. “And we have. I am taking my own notes of the proceedings, Gavan, and I’ll make sure your minutes are honest.”

“It is the will of the council,” Gryphon said, nodding. “Now—how do we go about this? Are you supposed to give Alister your gavel, Lord Bayar, or does he need to purchase one of his own?” His eyes gleamed with suppressed glee.

Han got ready to duck, in case Lord Bayar flung the gavel at him. But Bayar had regained his street face. He slid it across the table to Han.

“Thank you, Lord Bayar,” Han said. “I am humbled by your confidence in me, and will do my best to reassure those of you who voted for my opponent.” He nodded at Micah, who glared daggers back. “I have a little more business before we adjourn. First, as to the—ah—the Ragmarket project. As High Wizard, I will assume responsibility for that, Lord Bayar, and will report my progress back to the council.”

It might have been Han’s imagination, but Micah actually looked relieved.

Still, something in Lord Bayar’s face unsettled Han. He didn’t look beaten—not by a long shot. A chill settled deep into Han’s bones. I’ve got to get out of here, he thought. I need to talk to Raisa.

Abelard’s acerbic voice intruded into his thoughts. “Given our vote in favor of proceeding, we will tolerate no foot-dragging on this, Alister, despite your personal feelings in the matter.” She paused. “If need be, we’ll give the task to someone else.”

It was clear Abelard meant to keep him on a tight leash.