Page 20 of Rogue Familiar

“They weigh less than the food supplies,” Han pointed out.

“I did manage to survive on my own for years without hauling food and water around,” she grumbled. She’d scavenged and hunted and yes, maybe she was too skinny from years of going lean, but she’d survived.

“Having to hunt would slow you down,” Nic reminded her, arriving with Gabriel and a host of others apparently coming to see her off. Selly had hoped that the early departure would discourage an assembly, but apparently she was wrong. At least her parents were nowhere in sight. Ducking their worries and remonstrations had been highest priority. Her mother would have enough of a fit when she found out Selly had left, yet again.

“At least you don’t actually need to haul water,” Gabriel said gruffly. He’d stopped arguing about her going, but had retreated into what Nic called grumpy-wizard mode. “This is for you,” he said, extending a silver object.

Selly took it with curiosity and no small amount of wonder. It radiated moon and water magic, mostly Gabriel’s, and as like to her own as a hand in glove—but Jadren’s clockwork infused it also, clean-oiled magic ticked against her skin. The sensation gave her a rush of longing for him and she imagined for a moment that she sensed him along the bond, stirring in shattered agony. There was so much pain that she didn’t know whether to hope that it was real, confirming that he lived, or to hope it was simple wishful thinking. Except that she’d never wish for him to be in pain.

Unless she caused it herself during the course of justifiable revenge, of course.

“It’s a self-replenishing water flask,” Gabriel said.

“One of the new product line Jadren helped design,” Nic put in.

“He left before he finished all his proposed tweaks,” Gabriel clarified, “so it’s not perfect, but it’s better by far than my first one. I personalized it for you.”

Selly traced her fingers over the design, the sigil of House Phel: a full moon shining over still waters. Etched into the silver in scrolling letters, her full name encircled it. Seliah Phel, not El-Adrel, as Lady El-Adrel had pronounced her following her bonding to Jadren. Selly wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Phel was her house, not El-Adrel, yet the cleaving of Jadren’s house of birth from her name seemed like an unfortunate sundering, an omen of ill things to come. And of Gabriel’s opinion about them. Selly didn’t care for the sensation of being tugged between Lady El-Adrel and Lord Phel in some political dispute.

To give herself a moment to recover her poise, she traced the design with a wondering fingertip, marveling at how it almost seemed to be part of the silver rather than scratched into the surface, all smooth edges that glowed like moonlight as she turned it in her hands. “Did you do this?” she asked Gabriel. “I mean,” she fumbled, knowing that he had and realizing she’d been unclear, “did you… draw this?”

“I used moon magic, yes,” Gabriel answered, then cleared his throat, glancing away. He frowned at the array of weapons. “Han, that sword has got to be too heavy for her. Surely there’s another?” He turned away as Han argued the point.

“He stayed up most of the night working on it,” Nic confided, looping her arm through Selly’s. “He tweaked the water spell, too, so it only fills when you open it. Otherwise it stays empty once drained, so long as you affix the lid while it’s upside-down. That way it’s lighter. He worried about you throwing it away in order to move faster.”

“I would never,” Selly breathed, awed and immensely touched, despite her overall aggravation with her bossy big brother.

“Yes, well, he made sure of that,” Nic replied drily. “There’s something else and I’m asking you not to argue about it. He wants to do this. Needs to,” she amended.

“Do what?” Selly asked with renewed suspicion, alerted by Nic’s tone. Nic simply shook her head and pointed Selly at the horse emerging from the stables led by a groom. “Vale?” she gasped in shock.

The big black gelding—Gabriel’s horse that he’d raised from a foal, trained himself, and treated like another sibling—tossed his head and whickered as he danced sideways, looking terribly pleased about going on an adventure.

Selly whipped her head around to Gabriel. “You can’t send Vale with me!”

Nic squeezed her arm warningly before stepping away. Gabriel glared at Selly, appearing more angry than anything. “I can and will,” he retorted, stabbing a finger at Vale. “Vale is the best-trained horse we have. He’s fought hunters before. He can aid you in a pitched fight. He’s strong, has speed, stamina, and heart. If you’re going out on this fool’s mission, then you’re taking the best House Phel has to offer. You’re not some beggar at the doorstep, Seliah. You’re a lady of House Phel, a citizen of the Convocation whether they like it or not, and you will have the best. We might be poor and less fancy than those other houses, but we have some resources.”

Selly blinked at her brother’s speech, somewhat taken aback. “But he’s yours,” she said faintly, pretending she didn’t see Nic sending her significant looks.

“Ours,” Gabriel corrected softly, taking the water bottle—with its magically etched declaration of exactly which house Selly belonged to—and setting it aside. Gabriel folded her hands between his. “What’s mine is yours, too. Please take Vale. I know you don’t want me to worry about you and I want you to know I believe in you and your ability to complete this ill-advised quest. I would feel better if you had Vale to assist. Besides…” Gabriel’s lips quirked at a perfectly timed and excited whinny from the gelding. “He’s been bored,” Gabriel added in a confiding tone. “Cooling his hooves around here while I’m buried under paperwork and correspondence isn’t good for him. If you won’t do this for me, do it for him.”

“All right,” Selly conceded. It was truly a gift beyond price. She didn’t know what she’d do if something happened to Vale though. “I’ll bring him and Jadren home safely,” she promised.

“You and Vale would be enough for me,” Gabriel commented sourly.

Laughing, she put her arms around Gabriel’s waist and hugged him. “I know you like Jadren better than you’re pretending.”

“I only like him as far as he’s good to you,” Gabriel corrected. “Feel free to run him through on my behalf if he’s anything but.”

“Yes sir, Lord Phel,” she replied with a saucy grin and a salute.

He tweaked her nose, mock scowling. “Just come home,” he said. “Anything else we can handle together.”

It wasn’t exactly a relief to head out, but it seemed as if a weight fell from her shoulders as Selly rode away from House Phel, the gentle white gables of the gracious manor quickly disappearing amongst the wildly blossoming orchards. Vale seemed equally delighted to be on the move, giving no sign he minded having her astride instead of his best friend in all the world. He pranced with vigor, eagerly following the direction she set, unbothered by the weight of the full saddlebags.

She’d had no trouble deciding which direction to go, even with the bond so tenuous. A brief scouting foray during a rare bit of downtime in the last days had revealed Jadren’s path. As wily as he might be in any number of arenas—notably ones where she was hopelessly inadequate, which boded well for them as a team—he was shit at concealing his trail. If he’d even tried. He might’ve been so confident that his scathing note would keep her meekly at home that he hadn’t anticipated her tracking him. All the better for her, then.

“Keep underestimating me, wizard,” she muttered under her breath, and Vale tossed his head in emphatic equine agreement.

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