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He leaned closer.
It opened its eyes—and he threw himself back in the chair.
It was alive. Or alive-ish. The open eyes had the glisten of living mucus membranes. They held no real intelligence, even as they seemed to look through him, but the sense of an impossibly old, intensely magical presence filled the room. Gabriel forced himself to stop clutching the arms of his chair like a frightened child and wrenched his eyes from the Oracle’s horrible gaze to the proctor’s grimly amused one.
“The first few encounters with one can be unsettling,” she commented. “Though you shouldn’t need to inure yourself, Lord Phel, as I have. The oracles are precious commodities provided by House Hanneil”—she nodded to Lady Elal, who didn’t seem to notice—“exclusively for the Convocation judicial council. In this case, we represent your interests and will ensure you recover your valuable property.”
My valuable property.Gabriel wanted to object that Veronica was a person, not a lost jewel or stolen horse. And yet, the proctor would be his ally in finding her. The fuming Lord Elal and barely cognizant Lady Elal weren’t on his side. No one was on the side of House Phel except himself and a handful of barely magical relations. He’d bankrupted his House on a foolish gamble. Setting down the still mostly full brandy glass and rubbing his forehead, he asked, “And if Lady Veronica cannot be recovered?”
“The judicial council will have to rule once all of the facts are in hand,” the proctor replied evenly. “Regardless of any other extenuating circumstances, however, the child in question belongs to House Phel. Highest priority will be placed on ensuring the babe is brought to term healthy and in safety. The Convocation values our children. Have no concerns in that regard, Lord Phel.”
Gabriel hadn’t thought that far to have those concerns, but he didn’t like the way the proctor spoke of Veronica as some kind of incubator for their child, who was clearly also property in the Convocation’s eyes. Would they lock her up again until the babe was born? Sure sounded like it.
“First, however,” the proctor said more brightly, patting the roof of the Oracle tabernacle, the head inside staring blankly, “we need to locate Lady Veronica, then we’ll determine the circumstances of her… unexplained absence, shall we say, and make a plan to proceed from there. Is that acceptable to you, Lord Phel?”
Gabriel nodded. Unsavory as the Oracle was, he needed answers—and he would recover Veronica himself. No matter the circumstances surrounding her absence, he didn’t trust the Convocation to handle her gently, not the way this proctor spoke.
“Silence, please,” the proctor requested, moving her hands in a complicated pattern. Gabriel recognized the evocation of a binding spell with compulsion elements.
The Oracle’s desiccated lips parted. “What do you ask of me?” it hissed in an inhuman voice.
Gabriel found himself clutching the arms of his chair again, pushing himself back in it and away from the thickening magic of compulsion.
The proctor held a piece of silk and lace under the thing’s wasted nose, like giving scent to a bloodhound. “The Lady Veronica Elal—is she within this house?”
“I told you, I—” Lord Elal began.
“Silence!” the proctor cut him off. “Oracle?”
“She is not.”
“Where is she?”
“It is dark where she is. I cannot see.”
“Is she stationary or moving?”
“She is in motion, moving south and west.”
“Has she been restrained or compelled in any way, magically or physically?”
“No.”
Lord Phel made a sound, thumping the meat of his fist on the desk, expression a mask of cold fury.
“Is Nic all right?” Lady Elal burst out, startling Gabriel, who’d kind of forgotten the woman could speak. Her eyes were wide and full of emotion, the hair at her temples damp with sweat.
“Hush, precious,” Lord Elal commanded, as if he hadn’t been guilty of interrupting himself, putting his hand over hers on his shoulder. “Let the proctor work.”
The proctor observed the exchange with interest also. “What is the condition of Lady Veronica’s physical, mental, and emotional health?”
“She appears physically unharmed but is in a state of great agitation.”
“Is she afraid?” Lady Elal asked tremulously, her lord’s hand crushing hers. She seemed not to notice.
The proctor, looking from Lady Elal thoughtfully, repeated the question, and the Oracle said yes.
“There,” Lady Elal said to Gabriel. “Nic is afraid. She’s been taken against her will. My poor baby girl.” Tears welled in her eyes, though they didn’t fall.
