Page 66 of Rogue Familiar

“I’m a little unclear on the trajectory of this inquisition,” Jadren said. “The stated intent, and I believe I quote you accurately, Lord Chaim, is ‘to determine my guilt in murdering the El-Adrel wizard.’ How does my parentage have any bearing on that verdict?”

“You are guilty,” Chaim shot back. “You will be remanded into the custody of the Convocation.”

“Well, then, as entertaining as this little play has been, it feels like an immense waste of my time,” Jadren noted. “May I be excused in that case? I could have a nice refreshing nap. Say farewell to my familiar. Taking me away from her will impact her sorely, you know. Attenuating the bond and all that. It might take a while for the Convocation to get around to executing me. The wheels of government turn slowly and so forth.”

“We know how to care for her,” Chaim retorted sharply. “Far better than you. And you will not be seeing Seliah again.”

A surge of rage rolled through him in crimson heat. “You have no right to keep Seliah from me.”

“Did someone say my name?” Seliah inquired cheerfully, her head appearing in one of the open windows that gave onto a precipitous drop.

Along with his own relieved delight at seeing Seliah alive and well, Jadren savored the exquisite pleasure of seeing Chaim at a total disadvantage, caught entirely flat-footed by the sight of Seliah nimbly climbing over the window ledge. “Hello, Seliah, darling,” he murmured, something jagged in him settling back into place.

She flashed him a saucy grin. “Hello, wizard.” Her jaunty demeanor went somber as she took in the proceedings, focusing a glare on Chaim. “Someone forgot to fetch me as promised, so I had to find my own way here.”

Chaim opened his mouth, but nothing came out, he was so flabbergasted. The poor guy hadn’t known to list “half-feral” and “uncannily agile” among Seliah’s sterling qualities. “How—how did you get here?” he finally stammered.

Seliah glanced at Jadren with a theatrically confused expression, as if she thought Chaim might be dim-witted. “Through the window,” she answered, pointing helpfully.

Maya had risen to her feet. “You… climbed off your terrace?”

“Oh, that—yes,” Seliah replied. “Somehow my door got locked and funny about that lovely terrace—it’s quite high, isn’t it? But I managed. Then I had to wander around for some time, listening at windows for maundering voices who might be relevant to my interests. And here I am!” She went to Jadren’s side. “So, murder verdict, is it?”

“Seemed to be a forgone conclusion,” he replied in the same confiding tone, setting a hand on the small of her back. “It’s really good to see you.”

“It will do you no good to touch her,” Chaim cautioned. “With my restraints on you, you’ll still be unable to access her magic.”

Jadren gave him a bare glance. “Sometimes people touch for other reasons, you troglodyte.” It felt divinely satisfying to be in contact with Seliah again, even with the bond muted. But then, they’d had this connection from almost the beginning. The first time he laid eyes on Seliah—mud-covered, wild hair tangled, in a spitting frenzy in the ropes that bound her—he’d felt a deep kinship with her. Something that went beyond compatible magic, which they had, despite Chaim’s scorn. When she’d broken free and scrambled up the side of House Phel to escape, Jadren had wanted to cackle in sheer delight and had been hard-pressed to maintain his pose of jaded boredom.

Chaim barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Do you claim real affection?”

Jadren didn’t bother to reply. Seliah touched light fingers to his cheek and he leaned into the caress, beyond tempted to kiss her right in front of them all. He didn’t. Only because he couldn’t discern how much of the impulse came from a desire to throw it in Chaim’s face. Jadren wasn’t noble—that had been multiply established—but it still seemed wrong to use Seliah’s affection for him to punish someone else. She cared about him. She cared enough not only to disdain Chaim’s interest, but to climb off her balcony to find him. To rescue him, yet again.

“Are you alright?” Seliah asked softly.

“Yes.” He added a nod, immeasurably moved by the emotion in her eyes. “And you?”

“I’ve been treated well, aside from being locked in like a prisoner.” She flicked a glance at the group of somewhat stunned wizards. “And prevented from communicating with my brother, Lord Phel, as I politely requested and as is my due.”

Maya cast her eyes down and shifted slightly in her seat.

“Seliah,” Chaim said soothingly, “we only wanted to protect you from undue influence.”

“From my brother?” she asked in a scathing tone.

“You are absolutely welcome to contact Lord Phel,” Chaim answered with exasperation. “In fact, I encourage it. We want only the best for you and simply held off until after this interview, in case you had been coerced or otherwise pressured.”

“The only coercion and pressure here has come from House Refoel,” Seliah snapped. “I admit I have little experience in Convocation ways, but I’m pretty sure holding me prisoner and forcibly separating me from my wizard counts as a hostile act against House Phel.”

“House Refoel never commits hostile acts against other houses!” Liat burst out, clearly offended.

“I have news for you, honey,” Seliah retorted. “That’s what this is.”

“Not if we determine that you are not mentally capable of acting in your own best interests,” Chaim inserted, sounding kind, but with an unsettling firmness.

Seliah stiffened under Jadren’s hand, tension firing through her body like a myriad of tiny lightning bolts. Even dampened to his senses, her magic went ice-cold and silver-sharp. Uh-oh.

“Are you questioning my mental stability?” Seliah asked, so quietly the words hissed like a cat’s.

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