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The Human Familiar (Familiar and the Mage Book 1)

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by Honor Raconteur




  Published by Raconteur House

  Murfreesboro, TN

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  THE HUMAN FAMILIAR

  Book One of Familiar and the Mage

  A Raconteur House book/ published by arrangement with the author

  Copyright © 2017 by Honor Raconteur

  Cover by Katie Griffin

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information address: www.raconteurhouse.com

  Other books by Honor Raconteur

  Published by Raconteur House

  THE ADVENT MAGE CYCLE

  Book One: Jaunten

  Book Two: Magus

  Book Three: Advent

  Book Four: Balancer

  ADVENT MAGE NOVELS

  Advent Mage Compendium

  The Dragon’s Mage

  The Lost Mage

  Warlords Rising

  Warlords Ascending*

  SINGLE TITLES

  Special Forces 01

  The Midnight Quest

  Kingslayer

  FAMILIAR AND THE MAGE

  The Human Familiar

  The Void Mage*

  THE ARTIFACTOR SERIES

  The Child Prince

  The Dreamer’s Curse

  The Scofflaw Magician

  The Canard Case

  DEEPWOODS SAGA

  Deepwoods

  Blackstone

  Fallen Ward

  Origins

  KINGMAKERS

  Arrows of Change

  Arrows of Promise

  Arrows of Revolution

  GÆLDERCRÆFT FORCES

  Call to Quarters

  *Upcoming

  There’s a certain trick to being sneaky, a certain art to it, but it boils down to this: don’t act like you’re sneaking. I learned this from my sister in my formative years and haven’t forgotten it. (You tend to not forget painful learning experiences.)

  I made a fuss last night about having a job to do today, and not having time to do my regular chores, so that Fushu would switch with me. She doesn’t like getting up at the break of dawn to feed the animals anyway, so she was happy to switch.

  No one questioned or even stirred in their beds when I got up before the sun, dressed, and went outside. To be fair to my sister, I really did feed the animals, but my main goal in the feed shed was my pack. I’d squirreled it away a week ago, knowing that leaving with a pack from the house would surely get me caught. Slinging the pack over my shoulder and settling both swords at my waist, I walked down the hill, just in case someone—no, let’s face it—Eo’ma was watching. My mother has bat ears or something; she always knows when her children are not where they are supposed to be.

  I stayed on the road leading down the hill, toward the town, as long as I possibly could. I paused, looking about suspiciously, but there was only the wind, a few obnoxious birds, and the smell of the sea. Cackling evilly, I bounced in place, punched the air enthusiastically, then did an about-face toward the docks.

  My uncle loves to say that when boys turn to men, they ache for adventure. He’s likely to say the same thing to my parents when they discover me missing. But really, that wasn’t why I was leaving. I love my family, I do, they just drive me stark raving mad. I had the choice of sanity-with-distance or insanity-while-home. I chose sanity.

  My hometown has a sizeable dock, and a lot of trade and merchant ships stop here. I knew a few ships but none would be coming anywhere near me in the next month. I found myself too impatient to wait for them. I’ve worked on boats since turning eleven, so I knew I could make myself useful when on board, but I didn’t want to sign up for a full season. I had a different goal in mind. Because of that, my options in boarding a ship became severely limited. The ships currently in harbor were not captained by men I knew, unfortunately, and my impatience only left me with one option: stowaway. Passenger tickets were a little obscene in price. I didn’t feel bad about this as honestly I would just be onboard a day, long enough to reach the next port.

  Reaching the docks, I found a stack of crates waiting to be loaded and sank down on one knee behind them. They provided good cover and I needed that at the moment. Alright, even at this hour, there were a few dockhands coming out to work. I didn’t have a lot of time to board. According to my research, the Windsprite’s destination was where I wanted to go. If I snuck up the mooring line, could I reach below decks before anyone spotted me?

  It seemed the best plan. I cinched the straps on the pack a little tighter, made it secure enough to not fall off. Good. Well, here goes—

  In a flash, for a brief moment, I felt like something anchored itself in my gut and yanked, drawing me sharply forward. I didn’t have time to blink, or gasp, or even properly register the sensation before I left the docks and landed abruptly elsewhere.

  Unsure if I was awake or dreaming, I noted I’d gone from a semi-dark area on the docks to a bright, airy space. Blinking several times didn’t help clarify the situation. I knelt in the middle of a large room I’d never seen before, made of tall wooden rafters, with an open balcony wrapping around the second floor. It had the size of a warehouse but not the feel of one. In fact, it reminded me of one of the guildhalls I had been in before, what with all of the banners, doorways, and stacks of paraphernalia in every conceivable corner. People seemed to be everywhere—sitting at the tables all around me, standing near the staircase, leaning against the balcony railing on the second level. They were of every age and gender, all watching me with the same stunned expressions, mouths hanging open. Their faces mirrored what I felt.

  But their features were not from an ethnic group I recognized.

  Where in the fracking world had I just been spirited away to?!

  After that first stunned second I found my feet instantly, rolling to the right and coming up, hand on a sword, ready to go into the offensive if I needed to. I didn’t feel any danger here, but I hadn’t survived this long by taking things at face value. I stayed there, automatically marking every person’s position and angled myself so that I could race for the nearest door. The windows outside indicated that the door to my right led to an open street. I’d try my luck there if push came to shove.

  Two people stood directly in front of me, and it was there I chose to focus for answers. One of them was a slightly older man, somewhere in his late forties would’ve been my guess. Blue eyes currently bulged out of his head, his blond hair was swept back in a tight ponytail, and his black mage robes looked almost new, except for that oil stain on the front lapel. The way his mouth was working, without a sound emerging, told me I wasn’t likely to get any immediate answers from him.

  Alright, then, what about the girl? She looked to be near my age, a few years younger. Her brown hair hung straight past her shoulders, grey eyes also wide with astonishment like everyone else. She was leaning over with arms outstretched toward me, but slowly she withdrew them, shoulders hunching in.

  “This is not,” I said around a dry mouth, “the adventure I signed up for.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes and she choked out, “I—I’m so sorry.”

  When in doubt, blame magic. Or the magic us
er in this case. I had to assume that my abrupt re-location from my hometown to here had to do with magic somehow. And the mage that was standing right next to her was likely the one behind the spell. I wasn’t quite sure how she played in—no wait, an apprentice’s earring dangled from her right ear. Ah, so she was a mage apprentice? Hence the screw up in transporting me here? At least, I assumed it was a mistake. Everyone’s reactions inclined me to think so.

  The mage let out a long breath, eyes turning toward the ceiling as if praying—either for patience or guidance, I wasn’t sure which.

  Almost in the same breath, everyone in the room either let out growls of aggravation or laughter, their voices overlapping each other. The accent here was just different enough that I missed a few words. I had the impression I was very, very far from home. I suppose I should be glad they all spoke Trader’s tongue to begin with. It could be worse.

  “I’m Jon Tarkington,” the mage introduced himself, offering me a hand. “Mage of the Seventh Circle. My apologies about your abrupt re-location here. It seems we’ve had a…er…magical accident of sorts.”

  Seventh? I knew just enough about magic to realize he was a middle-level magician, almost run of the mill. I took a second to study his body language. There’s tell-tale signs when someone is lying and I’ve learned to recognize most of them. Tarkington wasn’t exhibiting any of them. His posture was open, he wasn’t trying to cover himself or his mouth, and he didn’t have that unnatural stillness that indicated he was trying to hide something. He shifted a little from foot to foot, not openly, but enough to say that this situation unnerved him, as well it should. He wasn’t volunteering too much information or being needlessly repetitive either. The hand he extended me was open, and I saw nothing but concern and confusion in his expression. I relaxed my guard a little at the apology and semi-explanation as it became apparent that I had not been whisked away with nefarious purposes in mind.

  Considering where I was, and the very western culture I suddenly found myself in, I decided to give them my working name. “Bannen Hach,” I said, accepting the grip and leveling up to my feet. His hand felt a trifle soft to me. This was not a man that did any physical work.

  “What sort of magical accident?”

  “That…is going to take more than a moment to explain. This is Renata Rocci,” Tarkington introduced with a wave of the hand to the now crying girl. “I’m afraid she’s to blame for you being summoned here.”

  “Like usual!” some voice called from the back, laughing.

  Tarkington cast a dark glare in that general direction but didn’t break stride in his explanation. “We were trying to summon a familiar for her as she’s passed her trials and is almost ready to assume mage rank. But something went wrong and we got you instead.”

  Ah, hence why she’d apologized. First things first. “Can you send me back?”

  “Certainly.” He almost immediately qualified with a shrug, “Just not today. It took a great deal of magic to bring you here. I’ll need to trace the path you followed, figure out the route, do some calculations, and regain my strength enough to send you back. It’ll likely take several days, but have no fear, I can return you safely home.”

  While that option was nice, I wasn’t sure I was going to take it. This might be the opportunity I had been looking for.

  I regarded the girl silently crying in front of me, her face hidden behind that curtain of hair. I’d been in her shoes before. Humiliating doesn’t begin to cover it when making a serious blunder in front of a watching crowd. So I had some sympathy for her, enough to want to take her away from here before continuing the conversation.

  I cast a quick look around me, saw the pathway to the door remained clear, and decided to take a chance on it. Renata is tall enough to hit my chin, but slender. ‘Small-boned’ as my mother would put it. She wouldn’t be a strain to carry and I wanted to get away from this group to a quieter place as quickly as possible. So I snagged her up, putting my shoulder under her stomach, which made her flail and gasp.

  “Up we go. Alright, hang tight.” With a long stride, I made a beeline for the door, Tarkington bemusedly following after. Most of the room exploded into chatter and a few made abortive movements to stop me. Tarkington waved them down, which satisfied most, but I was aware that a few still followed at a distance, ready to intervene.

  Guild loyalty? Or were they fond of the woman I had slung over my shoulder?

  “Wait, what are you doing?” Renata demanded, hands braced on my shoulder so that she wasn’t just draped like a sack of rice.

  “Too noisy in here,” I said, as if that explained everything. “When I talk to a pretty woman, I don’t like an audience either, it ruins the whole mood, so let’s go somewhere a little more private before we have a chat, shall we?” I had to pause and blink once through the door, as it was much brighter outside. It was high noon here, which was interesting, because it had been pre-dawn in my hometown. There was a low stone wall to my left, sheltering an herb garden, and I went for it as there was some shade to be had and seating of sorts. I put her gently down so that she was sitting on the wall, which put our eyes at exactly the same height.

  Tears still stood in her eyes. My father always said, when a woman starts crying, deal with the tears first. Otherwise you won’t get a sensible word out of her. I used my thumbs to wipe at wet cheeks, which had her blushing and avoiding my eyes altogether. Still, she wasn’t crying anymore. I counted it as a win.

  “Alright. Now I can hear you properly. Mistress Renata? I’ve never heard of a human familiar before.”

  She shook her head roughly. “It’s a mistake. I don’t know how this happened.”

  Right, her master had said the same thing, but it didn’t answer why I was here. “My knowledge of magic is very, very basic. I’ve worked with mages a few times; I know enough to get myself into trouble and little else, so walk me through this. What did you do to summon a familiar?”

  Tarkington, hovering, shifted as he if wanted to explain. I held up a hand to discourage him, as I wanted to hear it from her. I had a gut instinct that it was important I heard her side of this instead of what her master perceived to have happened.

  It took two deep breaths before she could meet my eyes. “You are being very patient about this, Master Bannen. Thank you. I’m very sorry for all of this trouble.”

  A kind soul, this one. I gave her a smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad. This is not at all what I planned to do this morning, grant you, but I’m not a planning maniac, I’m perfectly able to adjust on the fly. Truth is, you might have done me a favor, as I was just sneaking onto a ship when you brought me here. So you saved me from being a stowaway.”

  That made her properly look at me for the first time. Her eyes roved over me, taking in the pack, the weapons, the way I was dressed for travel. From what I could tell I looked very, very different than every other person here. None of them had the black hair, slanted eyes, or olive skin tone that I did.

  “You were going to stowaway?” she asked, interest piqued.

  “Sure was. Long story, I’ll tell you later. When you did the spell, what did you say?”

  She accepted this casual promise with a nod and sought to put what was probably very complex magical mathematics into layman’s terms. “There are requirements in the spell for summoning a familiar. There’s the power of the summons itself, of course, but layered into that are the attributes that I need my familiar to have. I tried to keep it simple. I asked for a familiar that was in no way bound to another person and had the power, experience, and means to protect me.”

  I went very still. I fit those requirements perfectly. I’m not married yet (despite my mother’s best efforts), not bound by contract to anyone, and I’m from a tribal people that basically teethe on swords. I’d spent the past five years working as a guard or mercenary for various groups. If all it took to be a familiar were those two requirements, then I actually could fulfill the role. “So am I bound to you, then?”
r />   “You shouldn’t be,” she hastily assured me. “I didn’t do the last half of the spell, so we’re not bound. Don’t worry about that.”

  She said worry but in truth I didn’t know how to feel about any of this.

  “This is extremely strange,” Tarkington muttered, more rhetorical than anything. “Master Bannen, you’re taking all of this rather well.”

  “Not sure what to make of it,” I responded candidly, shrugging. How should anyone feel about being transported from a different continent to be a cute girl’s constant shadow? I was equal parts happy about being so far from home, and dizzy with how I’d come to be here. I also didn’t know enough about her, the situation, or this new city to know if I would like it or not. My first impression suggested that she was a nice person, but I’d never known first impressions to remain for long. I had enough experience working alongside people I barely knew to realize that it would take time before I determined if I wanted to stick around or not. If I could; their reactions inclined me to think I wouldn’t have that option. I might just want to enjoy the place for however long until the Powers That Be threw a hissy fit.

  Seeing that they wanted more of an answer, I expounded, “The whole thing is probably the strangest event to happen in my life—and believe me that’s saying something—but it’s also a little gratifying. While I realize that I’m sexy and an amazing fighter, I’m flattered that her magic shares my opinion enough to call me from another continent.”

  Tarkington snorted, giving me a dry look, but Renata stared at me for a full second before giggling. “You think highly of yourself,” she said solemnly, or as solemnly as she could pull off with twitching lips.

  “Someone has to,” I responded with an outrageous wiggle of the eyebrows. I admit I hammed things up a little just to see if she had a sense of humor. When she laughed, I smiled, gratified that she did. I despised people with no personality, they were so completely boring. “I’ll level with you—I’m honestly glad to be this far from home, as I had a goal of traveling and seeing the world, so that’s a plus too. I’m just not quite sure what to think of being someone’s familiar. I’ve wanted to be a lot of strange things growing up, like a dog—I’m convinced dogs have the best lives—but familiar never made the list.”

 

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