They looked like the entrance to a castle, two of them, arched to meet in the middle, with detailed latches. “There are other incriminating indicators, Lord Elal,” the proctor said, her fingers working an incantation pattern over the tabernacle’s locked doors. Oracle tabernacle-where had he read about that? Gabriel swallowed a reply along with a sip of brandy, keeping a wary eye on the tabernacle. “Lord Phel here is hardly the ideal son-in-law and ally, not for a High House like Elal. “Can’t I?” the proctor returned coolly, making it very clear she could-and did. “What?” Aghast, seeming staggered by that, Lord Elal sank into his chair. This is a Convocation inquiry, and you are a suspect.” “Stand down, Lord Elal,” she commanded, “or you will receive even more severe sanctions than you already face. “Now, see here-” Lord Elal said, rising from his chair, a swirl of spirits taking shape in the air around him. “Regardless, I have been alerted and, I, as the Convocation proctor assigned to this case and as an objective observer, will lead the inquiry.” “I would have been on the case earlier, had I been immediately notified, as I should have been according to protocol.” She held up a hand as Lord Elal opened his mouth. “The Convocation will handle this, Lord Elal,” she continued. Pity.” Gabriel ignored her pointed remark-far from the first or the rudest insult he’d heard. “But I forget, you don’t have a formal education.
“Never seen an oracle tabernacle before, Lord Phel?” the proctor inquired. The ancient, incredibly potent magic that oozed off of it made Gabriel’s skin crawl, and he fought the urge to scoot his chair farther away from it. The proctor approached the desk and set down an elaborately decorated wooden tabernacle, like a small cabinet, inlaid with metal foil and arcane runes.
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