Page 64 of Rogue Familiar

“I shall inquire about providing you with materials for correspondence, Lady Phel,” Maya said instead of answering directly, bowing in acknowledgment, then seeing herself out.

Belatedly, Selly realized that she should have been addressed as an El-Adrel, since they knew Jadren was an El-Adrel wizard and she his bonded familiar. The Refoel insistence on calling her by her name or the rank that came from the house of her birth now seemed vaguely ominous.

~18~

Jadren marched to, if not his immediate execution, then the penultimate step before it. Knowing that they’d find it difficult to execute said execution—ha!—gave him scant comfort. If anyone could figure out how to permanently kill him, it would be a houseful of healing wizards who wished him ill. This marked a new level in the escalating achievements in irony of his life: he’d managed to make enemies of the people everyone else in the world regarded as friends. It was like he had a special talent for fucking things up.

They’d allowed him to bathe and eat, but they’d also taken away his clothing. In exchange they’d given him one of their flowing robes that everyone here seemed to wear. He felt like an idiot in the swirling pale-green thing. What really bothered him was that, along with everything else, they’d taken the widget on the chain around his neck. Even though his magic remained muted by whatever whammy Chaim had placed on him, he would’ve felt much better having that weapon available. They also refused to tell him where Seliah was, though he could sense in a muffled way that she was nearby. Frustratingly, he couldn’t discern much more than that.

They escorted him into a round chamber, ringed with windows open to the sunshine and serene views that looked much too pretty and benign to be a place of judgment. Lord Refoel sat behind a white stone desk, polished to a high shine and carved elaborately with flowers pollinated by bees. Liat and the other Refoel wizard, the one who’d taken charge of Vale—Maya—sat demurely nearby. No one else was in the room.

“Where is my familiar?” Jadren asked, using preemptory challenge to cover his concern. He’d expected Seliah to be there and it worried him greatly that she wasn’t. The last few hours of waiting, he’d been anticipating her arrival at the door of the room they’d stowed him in. Knowing her determined nature, she should’ve been demanding to see him.

Unless she didn’t want to see him, which was a distinct possibility and one that shouldn’t sting so much to contemplate. He wouldn’t blame her for getting a good look at what Chaim was clearly offering her in this place and deciding to opt for a much better deal. Still… he’d believed her declarations of love. Would she turn her back on him that quickly? Maybe so. Seliah had so little experience in the world. He was likely the equivalent of a teenage crush for her. She should grow out of it. All along he’d known in his gut that Seliah needed someone better than him.

But not fucking Chaim.

“Lady Seliah Phel is resting,” Chaim said, answering Jadren’s question as if speaking to a querulous patient.

Jadren cursed internally that they’d discovered Seliah’s identity, though he wasn’t going to give Chaim the satisfaction of knowing he’d scored a point, so Jadren kept his face blank, much as the possessive crawling need inside him wanted to correct them that Seliah was an El-Adrel now, for better or worse. Mine.

“Seliah has suffered a great deal and must recuperate,” Chaim continued, when Jadren said nothing. The reproach in his demeanor demonstrated beyond a doubt that Chaim blamed Jadren for Seliah’s need to recuperate. Not that he was wrong, but it still rankled to be judged by Mr. Perfect. “Your magic has been nullified, so there is no reason for you to have your familiar present.”

“Except that she’s the lone witness on my behalf.” And because he… Well, he didn’t need her, but he did want her with him. Stronger together.

Chaim smiled in gentle sympathy that made Jadren want to rip the healer’s perfectly white and even teeth out one by one and stuff them down his throat. “Even in Refoel where we honor all life paths, we also comply with Convocation law. Familiars may not testify in a court of law.”

“I’m surprised you’d uphold Convocation law.”

Chaim considered that. “I am the lord of a Convocation High House. Of course we are subject to Convocation law, just as we all are.”

“Seems you’d have difficulty reconciling the Convocation’s more brutal and rapacious laws with your own vows to cause no harm,” Jadren countered. “Don’t you feel hypocritical?”

“We, those of us belonging to House Refoel, cause no harm,” Chaim replied. “Seliah also brought up this argument. Directly causing harm is very different from being unable to prevent it. None of us can control all the world. The best we can do is live our own lives in accordance with our ethics, to change our small corner of the world.” He gestured to the valley out the windows, an absurdly peaceful place from what Jadren had seen of it. It made him highly suspicious of what they were hiding here.

It warmed him to know that Seliah had been arguing with the guy. At least she hadn’t been completely taken in by these serener-than-thou types. “What about being in a position to prevent harm and refusing to do so? That makes you complicit.”

Chaim frowned. “I don’t agree.”

“You were in a position to keep Seliah from being injured,” he persisted. “But you didn’t. Instead, you and your people watched until I was forced to take dramatic measures to protect her.”

“To protect yourself,” Chaim shot back.

“The one requires the other. I am Seliah’s wizard and as such bear a responsibility to protect her. I can’t do that if I’m dead.”

Chaim waved that off with some irritation. “As I told Seliah, these are questions for philosophers, which none of us are, least of all you. Our sole purpose here is to determine your guilt in murdering the El-Adrel wizard. For the record, I need to know her identity and yours.”

Good luck with that, boy-o. Jadren smiled thinly. “I don’t know her name and, as you’ve discovered, I don’t have one.”

Chaim drummed his fingers on the pristine stone surface. “I find both answers difficult to believe.”

“Would I lie?”

“In a heartbeat,” Chaim fired back. “What are you—a by-blow of Fyrdo’s got on the wrong side of the blanket? Does Katica know about you? Why don’t you carry your MP scorecard?”

“So many questions,” Jadren marveled. He’d been perversely pleased when they’d searched him and his things, enjoying their frustration at being unable to find his scorecard. It was the first time he’d been happy he didn’t have one. He grinned, then made a sad face. “And zero answers. How sad for you.”

“With your life hanging in the balance, I’d think you’d want to take this conversation more seriously.”

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