Nathan glanced skeptically at Shailiha, then back at Wigg again. “What’s going on?” he demanded.
Leaning forward, Wigg laced his fingers together. “Even though you have become a traitor, what happened to you was not your fault,” he said. “I doubt that anyone-including Faegan and me-could have resisted Nicholas’ power. That’s one reason why we tried to take as many consuls alive as we could. One day you might return to the Vigors. I hope with all my heart that can happen. Just as important, I want you to understand that you have an incentive to do so-one that you didn’t expect.”
Nathan shook his head. “You fool!” he answered. “Had you ever been exposed to the Vagaries, you would know that nothing in this world could ever persuade me to rejoin your cause!”
Wigg nodded slightly. “We’ll see,” he said. He turned to look over one shoulder. “It’s all right!” he called out.
Nathan gasped as Mallory entered the room. She instinctively wanted to run to him. But remembering Wigg’s warnings, she stopped when she reached the sitting room door. Tears started flooding her eyes.
“Come, Mallory,” Wigg said. He reached out one arm. “Sit beside me.”
The Fledgling took a seat between Wigg and Shailiha. Drying her eyes, she looked at her father. He had changed. The mustache was new, and his hair was grayer. Her heart ached for him as she thought about what he had become.
“Father…,” she said, her voice cracking. For the moment that was the best she could do.
“Mallory,” Nathan breathed. “Is that you?”
Smiling, she nodded. “In the flesh,” she answered.
Nathan immediately started to leave his chair. Acting on caution’s side, Wigg summoned the craft to force the consul back down. Nathan glared at Wigg, then returned his gaze to his daughter.
“I thought you were dead,” he breathed, “killed at Fledgling House along with all the other girls!”
“That’s what Nicholas told you, isn’t it?” Wigg asked. “He wanted all the consuls to believe that their children were dead.”
“Why would he do that?” Shailiha asked.
“My guess is that he had another use for the children, after taking their blood to help build the Gates of Dawn,” Wigg answered. “It would have been something he didn’t want his consuls to know about. Because he died during the Gates’ collapse, we might never know what he had in mind. Things are probably better left that way.”
Wigg’s expression hardened. “Unless you would care to shed some light on the subject,” he added.
Still overcome by his daughter’s appearance, Nathan shook his head. “No,” he breathed. “Nicholas never told us.”
“Don’t lie to me,” Wigg said. “You know better than most that I can force the truth from you.”
Nathan finally took his eyes from Mallory to look at the wizard. “He told us nothing about this-I swear it. Had I known Mallory was alive, I would have moved heaven and earth to find her!”
Just then Nathan saw the red Paragon embroidered on Mallory’s shirt. He glared angrily at Wigg. “Why does my daughter still wear her Fledgling House uniform?” he demanded. “It was my understanding that the academy was abandoned!”
“Don’t you remember?” Wigg asked. “Thirteen years ago you came to me on bended knee, asking that your daughter be admitted to Fledgling House. You even went so far as to petition Queen Morganna. It is only right that you know that Mallory’s Vigors training continues, here in the Consuls’ Nursery. You might also be interested to know that twenty-eight other consuls’ children attend school there. The next time you see your daughter, she might be wearing a red acolyte’s robe. That’s what you wanted, is it not-for her to wander Eutracia as you once did, doing good deeds for the populace?”
Nathan looked like he might explode with rage. “You bastard!” he snarled. “How dare you oversee my child’s rearing? I demand that you stop polluting her mind this instant! She’s not your charge, and you know it! Her care and training are to be immediately turned over to me!”
Fighting Wigg’s warp, Nathan did his best to stretch forth his arms. Shailiha got the distinct impression that if he could, the consul would gladly choke the First Wizard to death. Wigg calmly returned his gaze.
“If you don’t do as I demand, one day I will kill you,” Nathan breathed.
Mallory was stunned to hear her father speak that way. The First Wizard had been right. This was not the man she once knew.
Wigg sat back in his chair. “You’re in no position to give orders,” he replied. “Besides, whether Mallory’s training continues or not, you’ve sworn to kill me anyway. Your late master demanded it. But you and I know that you’ll never get the chance.”
His jaw set, Wigg leaned closer. “You need to understand the seriousness of your situation, Nathan,” he said. “Only two things can happen to you and your consular brothers. Either the Conclave finds a way to reverse the damage done to your blood signatures and brings you all back into the fold, or you remain imprisoned here in these rooms until the day you die. I’m sorry, Nathan, I truly am. But that’s how things are.”
Nathan looked beseechingly into Mallory’s face. “You mustn’t listen to them!” he shouted. “I’m your father! You have to believe me!” Tears started filling his eyes. He tried to reach an open hand across the table toward her, but it was no use.
Knowing better than to reciprocate without Wigg’s permission, Mallory looked at the First Wizard. Wigg thought for a moment, then nodded.
Reaching out, Mallory took her father’s hand. It felt strong and warm, just like she remembered. But he was different now, and she knew she must always remember that.
“Are you well?” Nathan asked. “You look so thin.”
“The trip to Tammerland was difficult,” Mallory answered. “But I’m all right. You must learn to accept that this is what I want-what I’ve always wanted, ever since my first day at Fledgling House.”
Nathan pulled his hand away. “Then so be it!” he said angrily. “But understand something, you foolish neophyte! So long as you wear that Paragon on your shirt and continue to love the Vigors, you’re no daughter of mine! Unless you are willing to devote your blood to the Vagaries, you’re dead to me! Until that day comes, don’t darken my door again!”
Nathan’s words went through Mallory’s heart like a knife. Even so, she refused to be persuaded. She shook her head.
“The Vigors are my chosen path,” she answered. “I can only hope that one day you will return to us. You might yet be the father I once knew.”
Nathan shook his head. “Get out!” he shouted. “All of you!” The consul turned away.
Looking at Mallory and Shailiha, Wigg nodded. While Nathan stayed behind, Wigg escorted the two women to the door, then released Nathan from his warp. Mallory stopped to look back.
“Good-bye, Father,” she said gently. Nathan didn’t answer.
As the door shut and the tumblers turned over, Nathan gazed into the fire. After a time, tears came. Burying his face in his hands, he slowly hung his head.
CHAPTER XXVIII
TRISTAN’S HEAD STILL LAY IN XANTHUS’ LAP AS THEwarm horse blood surged through his system. The prince slowly opened his eyes. Amid the howling wind and snow, the Darkling smiled.
“So you decided to come back after all!” he shouted.
Looking around, Tristan was shocked to see that his body had somehow been shoved into a horse’s gaping abdomen. Revolted by his situation, he started frantically squirming his way out. As Xanthus pushed him back, Tristan realized that he was too weak to fight the Darkling’s wishes.
“You still need what little warmth the carcass can provide!” Xanthus shouted. “When no more remains, we will try to go on again!”
“What happened?” Tristan asked thickly. His mind was groggy, but he could see that the Borderlands remained in their wintry state.
“You fell unconscious from your horse,” Xanthus shouted back. “You were near death. To keep you alive, there was no choice but to kill my stallion and use his blood and body heat to keep you alive.”
