Page 53 of Twisted Magic

“You know,” he said, after downing half of what was on his plate, practically inhaling the food, “even if there is an El-Adrel arcanium, the location likely died with my mother.”

“Fyrdo would know where it is. Or where it was, anyway,” she amended.

Jadren gazed at her a long moment, a world of turbulent emotion in his gaze. “I don’t think I can ask my father to give me that information,” he finally said. “Even if I could bring myself to do it, it’s entirely possible he won’t answer—and that he’ll never speak to me again.”

“He will,” Selly said with firm compassion. “Fyrdo just needs time to heal from the blow.”

“Seliah, I murdered the love of his life, his wizard, in cold blood. Time can’t mend a gulf like that.”

“It wasn’t cold blood. She was doing her level best to murder you, after abusing you your entire life. Fyrdo is aware of all of that. Once he gets over the shock of grief, not to mention the severing of a bond that’s been integral to his being for decades, he’ll want to be part of your life.”

Jadren shoved food around his plate, then let out a hollow laugh. “Not everybody thinks like you do. You’re one of a kind.” He reached across the table, lifting his pained gaze to hers, offering his hand palm up. She put her hand in his, gripping it. “I know I’m impossible,” he said softly. “I lash out at you when I shouldn’t. I’m a coward who’s fucked in the head and will never be the partner you deserve, but I’m so grateful that you’ve stuck with me, Seliah. You are the one person I can always count on to tell me the truth, to be always loyal. Losing you would destroy me.”

Selly ignored the stab of guilt at the reminder that she still hadn’t told him the full truth. Now wasn’t the time, not with the task ahead of them requiring their full attention, not to mention the sudden-death duel the next day. There would be time enough after, once Jadren was securely in his new role at House El-Adrel, to discuss the fact of the bond-severing and its implications for Convocation society. They might even laugh about her worrying so much about telling him.

She squeezed his hand. “Then you’d better not lose me,” she told him, hoping to make him smile.

He managed a smile, but there was no joy in it.

~17~

Despite Jadren’s gloom and palpable dread, Selly couldn’t contain her excitement. She had complete faith in Jadren’s ability to put her in alternate form—she wasn’t at all worried about some dreadful accident, regardless of his dire mutterings—and she couldn’t wait to find out what sort of animal she’d be. For all the times people teased her about being feral, mostly wild, practically a creature of the marshes herself, they likely didn’t understand how much she’d longed for real claws and teeth, for the ability to pass like a silent shadow, a true denizen of the wilderness and not a human intruder.

Besides which, from all Nic had taught her about erotic play being part of building magic, she anticipated excellent sex in her immediate future. How could a girl worry with that on the brain?

They wandered through the transformed house, hand in hand, searching for clues to the location of arcanium. Selly had wanted to simply ask the house to lead them there, but Jadren still didn’t trust the house not to trap them in some doorless room just to torment him. Nor had they asked Fyrdo, which Selly understood. So, instead, they drifted more or less aimlessly, passing myriad other people, most of whom greeted them cheerfully, nearly all addressing Jadren as Lord El-Adrel.

“They just know where their bread is buttered,” Jadren replied sourly when Selly commented that everyone already considered him head of the house was a good sign. “No doubt they’re paying similar court to Bogdan, hedging their bets.”

Selly refrained from commenting. “Most houses have their arcaniums in a tower,” she said instead, keeping them mentally on task.

“How would you even know that?” He slid her a sideways look.

“People gossip. And that’s where wizards always are in the novels. Sylus had a workshop in a tower.”

“Are you positioning yourself as Lyndella to my Sylus? Because things didn’t go so great for her.”

“Have you read that book?”

“The winters here are long and dull, especially when no one could leave the house and Maman—my late mother, I mean—was absorbed in her studies and the rare experiments that weren’t on me. I’ve read everything in the library. More to the point,” he continued, “and focusing on reality, not romantic fiction, you may have noticed that, with the massive reconformation of the house, places that weren’t towers before are now, so it goes to figure that former towers likely aren’t anymore.”

“The house wouldn’t mess with the arcanium though.”

He sighed, long and dramatically. “I feel like a broken wheel spinning in a rut I can’t escape, but how could you possibly know that?”

“I just… sense it.” She shrugged, unable to put it into words. “It’s like the house is a wizard, too, right? She would respect the arcanium. It’s part of her but also kind of… sacred to the head of the house.”

“The house is not a wizard,” he said decisively.

“She’s capable of working magic.”

“Only on herself,” he countered. “She can transform or restore herself only, and…”

He trailed off, the realization occurring to him at the same time as it did to Selly. “Just like you do,” she filled in with excitement. “You are using El-Adrel magic, on yourself just like the house does!”

“Except that the house is basically one gigantic enchanted artifact, or an assembly of them, and I’m an organic, living creature. At least,” he amended, “so I’ve always believed.”

“But your mother’s research—she also worked on creating those automatons, embedding them with Elal spirits to give them more life. What if she was trying to figure out how to—” She broke off in horror, only realizing her steps had slowed when Jadren tugged her hand, pulling her along into a new corridor.

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