~19~
Nic hadn’t spentmuch time in the Dark Arts Wing of Convocation Academy.They didn’t encourage casual visitors, for one.And second, her father didn’t approve of the dark arts and had forbidden any of the three of them from its study.At the time, she’d accepted it as just another of her beloved Papa’s edicts, as she’d believed him wise in all things—an impression she’d only later realized he’d carefully cultivated in them.Piers Elal wanted to be infallible and all-powerful, so he dunned that idea into the heads of everyone under his power until they parroted what he wanted them to.
And he succeeded in making most people actually believe it.Nic certainly had, until her experiences with her angry and vindictive father pulled the scales from her eyes.And Alise had believed it; perhaps she believed it still, or even more than ever under their father’s concerted manipulations.Nic worried that Alise had overestimated their father’s intentions, along with her ability to withstand his influence.But Nic couldn’t do anything about that now.Once they’d learned from Ferdinand that Alise had indeed left House Elal with Cillian, Provost Uriel had lost no time dispatching Han and Iliana to intercept the wayward pair and bring them directly to Convocation Academy.
Nic had nothing to do but wait.And find out what Morghana Seraphiel had to say about the brewing political conflict.
She had to admit the Dark Arts Wing was easily one of the loveliest parts of the academy—reason enough to discourage visits from those not affiliated with the programs and classes there.Many people seemed to assume that the dark arts would lean towards the Gothic, as in the novels, with lonely towers and dismal dungeons.No, that was more the purview of the overly dramatic families, like House Sammael, with their affection for everything black.
Instead, the dark arts embraced the elements of nature as much as possible.Nic knew the theories upon which the dark arts were predicated, having studied them on her own time, out of curiosity and thinking that someday as Lady Elal—back when she assumed she’d become a wizard—she might need to know the strengths and weaknesses of House Seraphiel.She’d gone over their publicly available materials again when she entered the Betrothal Trials, in case any suitors from that house applied for her.None had, which she’d thought just as well at the time.House Seraphiel’s disinclination to participate in Convocation politics hadn’t served Nic’s ambitions.
Ironic, in a way, that the fates had aligned so that it seemed House Seraphiel might be pivotal to the coming conflict.Yet another way that Nic had miscalculated.Amazing how much she’d changed in just over a year.And good to know she regretted nothing.
She entered glass-ceilinged hall—designed to admit the sky and the element of air, along with the spring sunshine.The stone floor pervasive throughout the academy gave way to earth.Nic paused at the vestibule, nodding to the attendant who only smiled and didn’t question her.Nice to have the mantel of the provost’s permission to go where she liked.She slipped off her shoes and left them in a nook designed for the purpose, then stepped onto the earth.Warmed from below and kept turned to fluffy softness by diligent apprentices, the earth felt delicious squeezing between her toes and pressing against the arches of her feet.
Before she’d moved to Meresin with Gabriel, Nic hadn’t paid much attention to the charms of nature and going barefoot.Since then she’d learned to appreciate the grounding qualities of sinking her feet in rich soil.Stepping into the earth of the Dark Arts Wing felt a bit like coming home.At the thought, her breasts ached for her baby, and her heart for House Phel and the home it had become.To soothe her raw longing, she paid attention to the sights as she walked to Professor Seraphiel’s office.
More like a greenhouse than an academic wing of an academy, plants, shrubs, and trees flowered along the earthen walkway, tended by quiet students.Magic whispered through the air like green, growing things, and deep caves with dark secrets.Ponds, rivulets, and occasional waterfalls wound through the greenery, and fire pits glowed at intervals, adding the fragrance of burning wood and warming the cool breezes flowing through the skylights that had been opened to allow in fresh air.
Morghana’s office occupied a far corner, her door open to reveal a wall of windows that ascended from the soil to an arched atrium-style roof.An enchanted waterfall sheeted down one of the interior walls, while the other was occupied by a large fireplace with a real fire burning more of the fragrant wood.Nowhere in the entire wing so far had Nic spotted an elemental, not even the sort usually attracted to features of nature that echoed their own.It was like seeing a field of flowers without a single bee.Very interesting—and Nic would put coin down that she knew the reason why.
She’d ask, but the office was empty.Odd, as she’d thought Provost Uriel had sent an interoffice Ratsiel courier to notify Morghana of Nic’s impending visit.
“Apologies, Lady Phel,” came a silky voice behind her.
Nic started.She hadn’t felt the powerful wizard’s approach.She turned, covering her surprise.And the dark arts professor smiled slightly, enigmatically.Unlike the architecture, Morghana Seraphiel looked exactly as you’d imagine a master wizard of the dark arts to appear.She was pale as a corpse, with a build so slender she appeared almost skeletal, though a wiry strength saved her from looking unhealthy.She wore her hair in a sleek cap of iron-gray that emphasized her severe, ascetic face.Her bare feet shone through the soil, her long, bone-white toes curling down, putting Nic in mind of a cat kneading a favored blanket.
Morghana held up a teapot.“I thought you might like an herbal blend, Lady Phel.One of my own creation, to support milk production and healing of the post-partum womb.”
Nic stiffened a little.“I’ve been well tended by House Phel’s healer, Asa Refoel.”
“I intended no slight to Asa,” Morghana replied serenely.“Please, come in.”
Belatedly, Nic realized she’d been blocking the doorway.She stepped aside, allowing the rightful occupant to precede her.Morghana sent the teapot on a brazier, lighting the candle with magic.Again, no fire elemental.She gestured Nic to a chair, found a mug made of pure, unglazed ceramic, and poured some tea, offering it to Nic, who took it, gingerly, trying not to be obvious about sniffing it.
“It’s not poisoned,” Morghana said gravely, no hint of amusement.She sat gracefully in a wooden chair, sliding her toes into the soil as another woman might slip into cozy slippers.“How is Asa doing?He’s a former acolyte, you know.We sometimes correspond, but he’s been understandably preoccupied since the birth of little Cornelis.”
“I knew Asa enjoyed a side practice of the dark arts,” Nic replied with smooth courtesy, not entirely clear how she’d ended up on the back foot in this conversation.She still hadn’t tasted the tea, which smelled like bitter cherries.“I hadn’t realized he studied with you, though I should have.”
“Not necessarily.”With a quirk of a non-smile, the professor poured another mug of tea, smoothly took the one Nic had been holding, and gave her the new one.She drank from the original mug, then lifted it in a little toast.“Asa is an excellent healer, but the dark arts offer their own remedies not within the aegis of Refoel magic or allowed trademarks.I think you’ll find it helpful.”
A bit chagrined at being perceived as suspicious of poison when she’d been mostly uncertain of the off-putting scent and somewhat intrusive offer of the tea, Nic sipped.It was as bitter as she’d guessed, but also hearty in an unexpected way.It felt as if the tea went straight to her blood, making her feel stronger where she hadn’t realized she’d been weak.Her breasts stopped aching as much, too, and she regarded the tea with some surprise.
“I’ll send some home with you,” Morghana said, a real smile curving her lips.“A gift to House Phel from House Seraphiel.”
That sounded promising—and as good an opening as any.“Thank you,” Nic replied graciously.“I shall arrange to send some of our fresh fruits of the season.”
“That would be most welcome.The fruits of Meresin are valued for good reason.”
Nic began to wonder if her mushy, post-pregnancy brain was up to this subtle sparring and multi-layered conversation.“Asa is doing well,” she said, answering the previous question, “as is Cornelis.Both thriving.”
“And your Bria?Congratulations on her birth.”
“Thank you.”Nic had to bite back a wave of intensely missing her child.Not the time.“Asa is traveling to Convocation Academy as we speak,” she added, plunging in and attempting to take control of the conversation.“To consult.On a research project of interest to House Phel, and to Convocation Academy.”
“Ah.And thus the reason for Lady Veronica Phel, née Elal, bestowing a visit here, where she’s never set foot before.”
The words oozed sarcasm—and something else barbed—except that Morghana delivered them so neutrally Nic couldn’t take offense.“I apologize for any offense, Professor Seraphiel.My father funded my education here and I believe his views on the dark arts are well known.”
