“Viola,” Lajos read out the name of the goblin healer. “Chen.”
I joined in the applause, but my envy was even stronger than six matches ago when Pericles’s name had been called as a unicorn’s familiar. I wanted the magic I channeled to be used for nurturing magic, like growing things or healing.”
“Istvan,” Lajos called.
The massive griffin stepped forward. The morning light gave his black feathers an iridescent sheen.
“Amy.”
Just no. My mind resisted, but my legs carried me to my new magician partner. I wasn’t compelled by magic. I knew this feeling. It had been with me when I’d started at boarding school or came home to any empty house because the parent I was staying with for a few days during vacation was still at work. It was about being powerless to change one’s fate.
Some of the other familiar matches talked quietly.
Smalltalk! I didn’t even know how to read Istvan’s expressions or body language. He was a griffin, utterly alien to me, and I was to be bonded to him. He would have control of my life. Maybe other Faerene wouldn’t be controlling with regard to their familiar, but I couldn’t see Istvan relinquishing command of any aspect of his life.
“The bonding ceremony will be carried out for everyone at once,” Istvan said to me. “We’ll need a bit more space.”
We retreated back from the crowd, but not before I saw Rory.
The werewolf stared at us, grinning with what seemed to be wonder. Energy almost visibly rippled off him. He was happy and eager and actually took a step in our direction before glancing sideways, evidently remembering that he had to stand with the tutors. He stayed in place, but saluted us.
“Complications,” Istvan said.
“You could have argued against having me as a partner,” I said. “I don’t get a say in this.”
He grunted, which was a strange sound as it emerged from his beak; half guttural and half a clatter. “You’re the prize familiar of the trials.”
I turned to stare at him. “Pardon?”
“You’re intelligent, likeable. Apparently, you’re to balance my irascible, loner tendencies.”
“Huh” was my intelligent response.
Istvan cocked his head. There was an unmistakable gleam of amusement in the large black eye that regarded me steadily. “Indeed.”
Lajos clapped his hands, silencing all conversation. “We will hold the bonding ceremony immediately. This is between partners, but we all stand here as witnesses.”
More Fae stepped out of the forest, ringing the field. A golden griffin was the nearest to Istvan and me.
“Nora,” he acknowledged her.
I stared. She was gorgeous. “Is she your mate?” I whispered to him.
Nora laughed.
I hadn’t known griffins could laugh.
“No, Amy,” she answered me. “Istvan hasn’t shown that much good sense.”
I liked her. Who else dared tease Magistrate Istvan?
“We need to begin the bonding ceremony.” He turned his shoulder to Nora and focused on me. “You’ll need the obsidian blade since your fingernails won’t pierce my skin.”
A black blade about the length of my hand lay on the grass. It hadn’t been there thirty seconds ago. I eyed it unhappily. “I have to cut you?” Then the obvious, but even worse thought struck me. “You’re going to cut me?”
“Blood to blood is part of the bonding ceremony,” Istvan said. “I will use a claw to slice down the outside of your forearm. You should cut me first before the pain of the cut distracts you.”
There was no way out of the situation. I crouched to pick up the knife. As I straightened, my gaze snagged with Rory’s. He stood beside Nora, both of them watching us.
“Istvan.” I edged closer to him. “Where do I cut you?”
“My leg. Just here.” He tapped his beak at a spot on his leg just above his giant paw with its scary claws. “A nice large cut. Strike without hesitation. Cut deep.”
I think he meant to be encouraging.
If I’d had a chance to become a doctor, I’d have had to cut people for surgery. There’d have been cadavers to learn on.
Those thoughts didn’t help any more than Istvan’s encouragement.
Better incentive was Digger’s training. When you absolutely had to do something horrible, just do it.
I sliced Istvan’s leg along the line his beak had traced in the fur. The obsidian blade was sharp. It cut the griffin’s thick skin easily. Red, warm blood welled up.
“Good. Hold up your arm.”
I dropped the knife sticky with Istvan’s blood, pushed up the sleeve of my shirt, and braced my left arm with my right, positioning it in front of Istvan.
He slashed it with a single claw.
One bleeding line of pain.
“Now, kneel and press your cut to mine,” Istvan ordered.
I dropped to my knees. “This is so unhygienic.”
He ignored my complaint. “Repeat these words. This is the familiar’s oath. ‘The magic that flows through me I gift to your service.’”
The magic, but not me. Service, slavery, was there a difference when the service was compelled? Either humans with magic served the Faerene or they would execute us.
Our blood mingled.
I recited the oath. “The magic that flows through me I gift to your service.”
“I accept your service and will honor it.”
I waited. Surely there would be more words or, if this was the end of the shortest ceremony on record, I would feel some difference from the bond completing itself.
“It is done,” Istvan said.
I sat down. It wasn’t a conscious decision. The release of tension and the pain from my wound combined to make me woozy.
The pain ceased.
I ran a finger over skin that had resealed beneath a layer of drying blood. I blinked up at Istvan. “I didn’t feel you use magic.”
“It was a minor healing spell. I didn’t draw on the magic from our bond. I shouldn’t need to for most spells.”
Nora coughed. Her beak made that discreet sound of disagreement sound like hack-clack.
Istvan’s tail lashed. “All right. We’ll practice so that some of the safer spells draw on Amy’s magic.”
“It’s a start,” the golden griffin conceded.
Rory crouched in front of me. “How do you feel?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Fine?”
He smiled. He was the archetypal boy-next-door all grown up, sexy and protective. He was also a werewolf, Faerene, a magician, and who knew what else. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Istvan answered for both of us.
Nora walked onto the field and nudged his shoulder. “I forgot. Congratulations. A smooth bonding.”
Her comment tore my attention from Rory and other immediate concerns to look around us.
Other magician and familiar bonds were still forming. Not everyone was as absent to squeamishness as Istvan and I. Psyching themselves up to cut each other had taken some of them a while. However, no one was screaming or comatose or anything loudly bad.
“Congratulations.” Lajos was suddenly right there.
Another elven male stood beside him, a fraction shorter but broader. “Congratulations, Istvan. Well done. How was it?” He rose up and down on his toes, literally bouncing with curiosity.
Istvan sighed. His feathers ruffled on his chest he sighed that deeply. “Harold, may I introduce my familiar, Amy Carlton? Amy, this is Fae King Harold.”
King? I hesitated. I’d have extended my hand to shake, but it was bloody, and apparently he was royalty. Was I expected to stand so that I could curtsy?
“Plain ‘Harold’ will do. After all, Istvan and I are old friends.”
I wiped my bloody hands on the grass. I needed a shower and clean clothes, but this would have to do. The obsidian blade lay near me. I wiped it on my shirt—it was bloodstained anyway—then thought twice about tucking it into my b
elt. That would be dangerous. It needed a sheathe. I held it out to Istvan, who vanished it.
“Excellent!” Harold exclaimed. “Cooperation already.”
Istvan lashed his tail.
If I’d had a tail, I’d have lashed it, too. The Fae King was treating us as if we were free entertainment.
“You know what you have to do.” Nora sounded amused.
Since I had no idea what was happening, she had to be talking to Istvan.
He studied me. “We can’t leave here till we’ve demonstrated a stable flow of magic through you and into a spell that I cast.”
“Leave the field or leave the mountains?” I was keen to do both, but the latter would be the real motivator.
“The mountains,” Istvan said. “We can take a break now for you to clean up, rest, eat, or whatever you need.”
I thought about my options and my condition. I felt surprisingly well. Stable, to use the Faerene’s favorite word. “Let’s do this. Um, what do I do?”
“Stand where you are.”
I was by his right side with Rory on my left, Nora across from us, and the two elves a few steps around from her.
Istvan frowned at the ground a few feet to the side of us, and safely empty of people. The grass died, then it burned, then its ashes melted into the dirt. The dirt melted, glowing red glass formed, before the glass snaked into a chain and two cuffs. Finally, the handcuffs cooled to a dull gray.
Rory whistled softly, impressed.
Fae King Harold let out a shaken breath.
“You’ve proven your point, Istvan.” Nora tried to sound reproving, but actually sounded proud. “The magic flowed steadily, no fluctuations or strain. How did it feel, Amy?”
I tore my gaze from the handcuffs. I wasn’t sure that I liked the symbolism of them. Istvan better not be planning to make me wear them. “I didn’t notice anything. No, I noticed some magic flowing through me, kind of tingling, but I wouldn’t have paid attention to it if I wasn’t thinking about it.” The sentence got tangled up.
Nora comprehended my meaning, though. “Very good. And did you notice,” she was no longer talking to me, but including everyone in our small group in the question, “that the magic came from every part of Amy. She channeled it naturally and effortlessly, far more than we expected and than Istvan had any right to expect.”
He nodded seriously. “Amy, you honor me with your trust.”
Rory read my confusion better than the others, or else, cared more about clearing it up. “The fact that magic flowed through every part of you and into Istvan’s casting means that you trust him completely. You didn’t hold back anything.” He looked at Istvan, and suddenly, Rory looked like a leader of men. Not a king, but a sergeant. He would protect his people. “It is on Istvan now to treasure the honor you give him.”
“You made Cuffs of Compulsion.” Lajos was stunned for other reasons. “Creating and enchanting an object is a sorcerer-level talent. You risked your familiar—”
Istvan interrupted. “I trusted her strength. Now, our bond is proven and we are free to return to our lives. Yes?” The “yes?” was a demand.
“You are free.” Harold made a sweeping gesture that was vaguely mocking.
Free to go where? Was I free or just Istvan? And… “What are Cuffs of Compulsion?”
Istvan scooped them up with his beak and tossed them at me.
I caught them. The toughened gray glass was smooth and cold. They were surprisingly light.
Istvan studied them as they dully reflected the morning light. “These cuffs compel the person wearing them to follow whoever locks the cuffs onto them. The manacles will resize. They’re a useful tool for a magistrate.”
“Speaking of useful to a magistrate,” Rory interjected.
I looked at him.
Istvan stared at him.
Lajos and Harold wandered off to harass other newly bonded pairs.
Nora scribbled in a notebook. Given that she held neither the notebook nor the pen, but that both floated in the air in front of her, that was quite a sight.
I offered the Cuffs of Compulsion to Istvan, who vanished them.
“You need a guard unit,” Rory said to Istvan. “Every magistrate has one on Elysium and the same will be expected here, now that the Rift is sealed. Since you haven’t chosen one yet, I’m volunteering to head your guard unit and select the other members.”
“Hmm.”
I had a feeling that Rory’s offer to handle the personnel management, beginning with recruitment, was the biggest selling point in Istvan’s eyes. The griffin really didn’t like being bothered by people, which made his choice of profession a puzzling one. Magistrates had to deal with people.
“My territory has changed,” Istvan said. “They’ve swapped me with Yelena.”
“Hot damn,” Rory swore.
Even Nora was distracted from her note-taking.
Only I didn’t understand what mention of Yelena meant.
“I’ve been assigned as magistrate for the territory of North America.”
The blood drained from my face. “You’ll be judging my people?”
Istvan nodded warily. “I thought you’d be happy that you could return home.”
“I…” This was so confusing. According to the Faerene, the way magic had streamed through me and into Istvan’s spell meant that I trusted him unreservedly. But my doubts, my need to defend my family, contradicted that conclusion. Unless, buried beneath my fear and uncertainty I believed that I could trust Istvan not to use those I loved as hostages to control me. “Where will you be based in America?”
“I can translocate from anywhere,” Istvan said. “I thought you’d want to be at Apfall Hill.”
Rory laughed, a low amused chuckle full of pride. “Amy’s more werewolf than griffin. She’s thinking of her pack. Will you hurt them? Does she have to protect them from you?”
For the first time ever, Istvan’s bold posture sagged. He flinched as if Rory’s explanation hurt him.
My mistrust had hurt him.
“Or will you join her pack?” Rory continued, and now, his tone coaxed his friend.
“My family,” I corrected him without thinking.
It wasn’t just magic that had power in the new world we were building out of the ruins of the old one. Love, a place to belong, friends, loyalty, courage and facing challenges together all mattered.
“Istvan, will you come home with me and meet my family?” Be my friend, and not just the master magician to a familiar servant?
Istvan retreated into formality. “I would be honored.”
I had risked so much over the last few days, why not this final dare? I pulled on one of Istvan’s throat feathers, and when he ducked his head, bewildered and muttering a complaint, I hugged him.
That silenced his protest.
But he had to have the last word. “Rory, as head of the Magisterial Guard Unit for North America, you are to accompany Amy and me to Apfall Hill.”
In fact, it was Rory who had the last word. He smiled at me. “My pleasure.”
***
Discover how Amy and Istvan’s partnership develops in Bound Magic. Out March 2019.
Want More?
In 2019 I’m juggling two series. The first is The Faerene Apocalypse. You’ve just read Book 1, Stray Magic. I hope you enjoyed it! Book 2, Bound Magic, is out March 28, and Loyal Magic will release mid-year. The second series is the Interstellar Sheriff space opera series already begun with Space Deputy. Look out for Space Rodeo in a few months.
I have three other complete series.
Shamans & Shifters Space Opera series. Complete (for now):
Her Robot Wolf
Cosmic Catalyst
Shattered Earth
Jingle Stars
The Ceph Sector
The Old School series. Strong women saving monsters & solving mysteries.
Phoenix Blood
Fantastical Island
Storm Road
Fire F
all
Desert Devil
Amaranthine Kiss
Shangri-La Spell
The Collegium series. A secret order defends humanity from supernatural dangers.
Demon Hunter
Djinn Justice
Dragon Knight
Doctor Wolf
Plague Cult
Hollywood Demon
Alchemy Shift
Keep up with all my news and new books at my Facebook page, on Twitter @Jenny_Schwartz, or at my website.
Jenny
Stray Magic Page 16