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Finally, she settled for lying on her back on the hard bench, dangling her booted feet off the end. Staring up at the darkness, feeling cold and more than a little miserable, Nic fingered the copper snake bracelet, grazing her skin with its scraping fangs. What was happening at home? Surely her absence had been discovered—but did Gabriel know yet, and what was his reaction?
Pressing down hard, she gasped at the bite of fangs.Don’t think about him.
Or about the hunters, whatevertheywere.
Riding fast throughthe swirling blizzard, Gabriel used his water magic to guide the icy snowflakes away from his face and Vale’s. He also did his best to clear the accumulated ice and snow from the road before the horse’s hooves struck it, though that wasn’t easy at speed. Vale, bred for his endurance as well as speed, galloped gamely on. It helped that Elal’s excellent grooms had given him a good rest while Gabriel was in House Elal. Of course, he’d thought at the time that they’d be staying at least overnight, if not a few nights. Gabriel had imagined Veronica wanting to celebrate their wedding with her family, perhaps waiting for friends to arrive to stand up with her, to say her goodbyes slowly before she accompanied him to Meresin.
Not once had it crossed his mind that he’d be back on the road in an hour, chasing after his fleeing betrothed.
For a while it had helped that the main Elal road south was kept meticulously clear of snow and ice by bound fire elementals, but with every league put between them and House Elal, more icy patches began to appear, particularly where the bitter wind blew snow over the road. In some places, so much snow swirled across the road that Gabriel couldn’t make it out, and it seemed Vale flew through clouds. Viciously cold clouds that could send them sprawling with broken bones in a ditch.
Occasionally, the swirling blizzard cleared enough for Gabriel to glimpse the Elal export sleds shooting past a distance away, off the main road. They went several times faster than Vale, and because they moved over the snow, they weren’t slowed by weather conditions. If Veronica traveled by one of those, she’d be gaining on him, rather than the reverse.
He could only take heart that the other pursuers would be even farther behind. Lord Elal’s spirits wouldn’t be hampered by transportation considerations, but Gabriel had no idea if he could send them beyond his line of sight. Most wizards were limited by the extent of their physical senses. Of course, House Elal must employ many wizards. If Gabriel had the luxury of that kind of staffing, he’d have them distributed throughout his lands, ready to be mobilized to handle problems. But it was easy to armchair strategize such things, and he had no real idea of how an actual Convocation house conducted business. Still, even if Lord Elal had wizards in place to call on, it would take time to enlist them to the purpose of chasing Elal’s daughter—if he wasn’t too proud to make her escape known, which was possible.
The Convocation hunters were another matter. By the sound of it, they might not be human at all, and thus not confined to physical travel.
No sense worrying about what could go wrong, as far too many things could.
His thoughts drummed in circles with Vale’s galloping. Why had Veronica run? Why did Veronica hate him? Why hadn’t she confided in him? Why had she risked so much rather than facing him and telling him her mind? Now that he’d glimpsed more of what familiars might endure at their wizard masters’ hands—Lady Elal forced into silent cat form, submissive Feny at the border—he understood why she’d been bitterly caustic about her fate. Surely, though, she couldn’t think he’d treat her so badly? If she did think so, why had she gone along with—no, urged him—the bedding?
There were no answers to be had, not until he had her in his grasp. After that, they would have a long, involved conversation, and shewouldanswer his questions. He was determined to reach Veronica first, and he would. He’d overcome greater odds than this just to get this far. He had her scent, the feel of her inherent magic, the connection they’d forged that long night together. That gave him an advantage, no matter how slight.
As daylight dimmed, the cold grew more bitter, and Gabriel faced that he’d have to stop for the night. Even the great-hearted Vale couldn’t keep going like this. And though Gabriel was far from great-hearted himself, he didn’t have it in him to drive his steed into the ground. So when he saw the lights of a town, he slowed Vale and looked for an inn.
Having to deal with the inn, the askance stares at his appearance, the averted gazes when they took in his wizard-black eyes, the shocked ones at his white hair—all of it broke him out of his circular thoughts. He tipped the stable girl well to walk Vale cool, rub the gelding down thoroughly, and give him an extra portion of feed. And he tipped the boy in the pub well to bring himself an extra portion of feed, also. Gabriel sat by himself in a shadowy corner, using a simple moon spell to reflect curiosity away from himself.
He was more tired than he’d realized, feeling sleepier by the moment as warm food settled into his stomach. He wasn’t used to winter’s bite. And he’d pushed hard to reach House Elal, thinking he’d have days of rest after the wedding. Sopping up the last of the rich mushroom gravy with the excellent fresh bread, Gabriel settled back to savor the rest of his wine—an excellent, robust Elal red, though not as good as Veronica’s special reserve—and watch the room.
Thus, he was in the perfect position to see the hunters arrive.
He knew them for inhuman even before they fully entered the busy tavern. The air seemed to bend before their passage, adjusting to the presence of that which should not exist in this world. There were six of them, slinking into the room like an amalgam of a jackal and a weasel in vaguely human shape, arching like hounds to sniff the surfaces they passed. Nobody else seemed aware of them, so Gabriel made sure to look past the hunters also, focusing on the minstrel blithely singing a song nearby, exhorting the crowd for coins.
He needn’t have bothered, for one of the hunters lifted its snout in the air as if scenting something interesting and fastened one eye on Gabriel. It slunk in his direction, pausing to steal a handful of coin from the oblivious minstrel’s tip basket. It tossed one on the table before Gabriel, an insolent sneer on its distorted face.
“Wissard,” it hissed, revealing inhumanly sharp teeth—several rows of them.
“Hunter,” Gabriel returned. He readied himself, though his water and moon magic seemed unequal to dealing with a creature like this. The books in the House Phel library, at least the legible ones, were short on spells for martial application. Under the table, he loosened his sword in its scabbard, a far more reliable defense.
“You know what I am. Good. I ssseek a familiar, on behalf of the Convocation. Have you ssscented one?” It pushed the coin toward him with a sharp, curving claw.
“This place reeks of sweat and ale,” Gabriel replied. “I’m sure any good familiar would turn tail and hide in their room.”
The hunter sniffed the air all the while Gabriel spoke, barely listening. “You have no familiar.”
“Unfortunately, no. I am but a minor wizard.” Gabriel drew more moon reflections around himself, just in case any of his power leaked through. On the advantage side of being a moon-based water wizard, it was a quiet magic, and often overlooked.
The hunter fixed one ochre eye on him—the length of its snout making looking forward with both eyes at once impossible—and made an unpleasant choking sound. Laughter? “Why are you here, wissard?”
Gabriel gestured at his cleaned plate. “Best mushroom gravy in all of Elal.”
The hunter eyed him for another excruciatingly long few moments. Without another word, it slunk out again, its cohorts streaming to join it, pouring out the door again like smoke. Gabriel blew out a breath, quaffed his wine, and went to his room for the night—dropping the coin, plus a few more, back in the minstrel’s basket.
In his room, gazing at the unpacked bags he’d tossed on the chair before heading down to eat, Gabriel considered fetching Vale and riding through the night. But the bitter cold hadn’t lessened, and both Vale and he would do far better for a good night’s rest.
“You knew those hunters were out there,” he muttered to himself and going to the window and staring out at the unrelenting blizzard. “Laying eyes on them changes nothing.” Though it did change things: he was more afraid for Veronica than ever.
He had to accept that he was no longer ahead of the others who sought Veronica—if he ever had been—so he needed to be smarter than the hunters. Returning to his thoughts before the hunter arrived, Gabriel considered how to find Veronica. The moon would be gazing down on them both, if not obscured by clouds. Its light still filtered through, however, so he should be able to follow that silvery thread up to the moon high above, then down to her. If he conjured her scent, like roses and red wine, the feel of her fiery nature, the heat of her a perfect complement to his cooler, watery one, then… Yes.
