Studying Bannen and the magical signature still hovering around him was the only option left. I would have to wait until he finished speaking to his parents. Sighing, I decided to work on one of the projects I had set aside, a spell Emily had created and asked for my opinion on. I might be terrible at creation magic, but at least my friends understood that with my eyes, I could see the flaws in the spells and how to correct them.
What can I say, I work for food. Emily’s scones are to die for.
I levered myself up enough to snag a copy of her spell and brought it back to the couch, flopping down on it again. Somehow in the process of doing that I managed to break another nail badly enough that it went into the quick. Hissing, I stared at my right hand and growled a curse. Seriously? I can’t have a single nail that won’t break the second it gets any length to it?
Unfortunately this situation is so normal for me that I have bandages stowed away everywhere. I snagged one, carefully eased the torn nail off, and then wrapped it. The bandage showed a spot of blood, but I hadn’t hurt myself too badly this time. Sighing, I put the bandages away and focused back on the spell.
On the surface, the spell looked fine. It had a good ratio balance between elements and command lines, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why it consistently failed on her. Then I realized that what I had assumed was an air element symbol was actually water—Emily’s handwriting could give chicken scratch a run for its money, and the chicken scratch would lose—so what I actually had in front of me was a spell with an overabundance of water elements. Well no wonder why it didn’t work.
Even on a good day, when I haven’t already magically taxed myself, I can’t manage a long communication spell. Years ago, when I realized that effort wouldn’t change that, I came up with a system to ping my friends so they would know I needed to talk to them. That way they could call me. I used that system now with a small hand mirror, setting off a magical ping to Emily’s, then settled in to wait.
Usually she took more than a few minutes to respond, but this time her face flashed into the mirror in barely two seconds. “Rena!” she greeted happily. “Have you figured out my spell?”
No one outside the guild knew that I’d summoned a familiar that morning and I was suddenly grateful for that. I didn’t want to have to explain this to my friends just yet. “I did, just now, and what were you thinking trying to put three water elements as your base?”
She gave me a very blank look. “I did what?”
Well that answered part of my question. “Emily, my love, my darling, my sweet friend, how punch drunk were you when you scribbled this madness down?”
“Scribble!” she protested, feigning hurt.
“Even with my eyes I could barely decipher it. It’s a wonder your magic could understand it well enough to do anything at all, even the one time you got it to work. Scribble, I believe, is a generous term.”
Emily looked a little uncertain. “Did I really put down three water elements? Not air?”
“Three,” I confirmed in amusement. “I now understand why the only time it worked for you was in Master Vonda’s backyard. With all of the water fountains she has back there, of course it would work.”
“You are totally worth the two hours it takes for me to make scones,” Emily praised with all sincerity.
“Of course I am, which is why you keep coming back to me.” Emily laughed, a light sound. She looked prettier than usual, hair done up, a little makeup on her eyes that made them look larger, and I could see the white lacy shirt she loved to wear for special occasions. “Did you meet someone sexy or are you celebrating something?”
“Celebrating,” she responded happily. “My written exam results came back and I passed with flying colors.”
I clapped, honestly glad for her. “Then all you have left is the final stage, right?”
“Yup!” Perhaps because I’d mentioned how she looked, she gave me a closer study and her mouth turned down into a frown. “You look wrung out. Is the new medicine not working?”
“Not noticeably,” I sighed. “Actually, Emily, instead of scones can I have some of that cream again?”
“Oh no, don’t tell me more sores are breaking out?”
“No, not open sores, just raw patches on my skin.” Mostly my stomach, thankfully, as that was easier to hide. Any sign of a bandage made Master get this very worried, unhappy expression on his face and I hated seeing it. “I’m hoping the cream will prevent it from becoming open sores.”
“You get scones and cream,” Emily stated firmly, a no-negotiation tone to her voice. “We need to get you through the rest of the Tests so you can travel to different doctors. The local ones obviously don’t have a clue what’s wrong with you.”
I nodded, agreeing, because that had become increasingly obvious over the last eight years. “Almost done, maybe by the end of the month I can leave. Here, I’ll fix the spell for you as well, you can just pick it up at some point.”
“Later today fine?”
“Sure.” Maybe by that point I’d have an answer on how to tell them about Bannen. “Meet me at the café for dinner.”
“Eating out? Sounds good to me, as it’s Master’s turn to cook.” Emily gave a delicate shudder of horror.
Laughing, I encouraged, “Then bring everyone. I need to tell you something anyway.”
“Oh? Do elaborate,” she purred.
“I will,” I promised mildly. “Over dinner.”
“Spoilsport.” Emily stuck her tongue out at me. “Fine, see you later.”
“See you then.” The mirror went dark, showing only my reflection again. I listened, but Bannen apparently wasn’t done yet, so I focused on Emily’s spell. I might as well fix that now, while I remembered to do so.
I had it mostly finished when Bannen popped the door open and stuck his head inside. “Done.”
“Ah, alright.” I twisted on the couch and looked through the wall, finding the elements of the spell, and dismissed them with a wave and a few words.
Bannen let out a low whistle. “Seriously? You can do that through a wall?”
“I have very good eyes,” I smirked at him. In truth, that’s the only part of my body NOT trying to fall apart. “Well, to be precise, I can dismiss a minor spell like that through a wall. If it’s something more complex then, no, I have to see it. Here, come sit. Did you talk your parents around?”
“Not noticeably, but they’re no longer threatening to come fetch me themselves, so that’s something.” He sat easily, leg tucked up under another as he settled on the couch next to me. I could see something in his eyes that suggested he saw more than I wanted him to. If Bannen had proven anything to me today, it was that he’s incredibly observant. How much of my appearance told him that I battled an illness no one could name? How much had he realized or guessed at?
Clearing my throat, I pushed those questions aside and tried for an easy smile. “I want to study the familiar bond between us. Can you sit still for a moment?”
“Of course,” he assured me immediately. “I also had questions about that. But first you have to explain all of those papers stuck on the wall, because I have to tell you, it looks like some mad plot to take over the world or something.”
I glanced at them, seeing a little from his perspective, and laughed. “It rather does, doesn’t it? Actually, I take in outside work sometimes—little projects. Because my eyes are so good, I can see why spells fail. I see their weaknesses and how to fix them. Half of the papers are just mad scribbles from very frustrated mages or mages-in-training.”
“And the other half?”
“My own research project into my magic,” I answered steadily. “Because even though I live with it, I don’t really understand it.”
“Makes two of us; your magic makes no sense to me.” He grinned at me like he was sharing a secret, his eyes crinkling up in a very charming way.
In that moment, for some reason, I acutely felt the differences between us. Bannen possessed
the one thing that I envied more than anything else: a strong, healthy body. He sat there practically radiating heat—I could feel it all the way from here. I had several warming charms stuck to the walls, but despite that I felt a little cold. I envied his ease with people as well, as I tended to be tongue-tied around them more often than not, and I had never once seen him at a loss for words. If only the bond between us could transfer even a tenth of his talent and health over to me, I would consider it a blessing and fight tooth and nail to keep him bound to me. Alas, it didn’t work like that.
Had I subconsciously somehow summoned the person I wanted to be? I shook the thought away with a small jerk of the head and refocused. “Sit perfectly still for a moment. Movement of any sort distracts me.”
“I’ll be a stone statue,” he promised and shifted into a stiff, exaggerated position that made me smile.
“Don’t hold your breath,” I teased, “because if you faint I will not pick you up.”
“Meanie.”
Had he seriously just said meanie? “What are you, five? Really, you’re going to stick your tongue out at me? Seriously?”
“I am not mature,” he retorted primly.
No, he really was. I had seen that today. This was just a sideshow to make me smile and I appreciated it beyond words because in some ways, it had been a truly terrible day. “Still,” I commanded.
This time his position was more relaxed, hands on his knees, looking at me steadily.
Having a man this good looking steadily staring at me would normally make me flush to the roots of my hair and babble. Fortunately, I didn’t need to meet his eyes or come up with something witty to say. I stared hard, eyes tracing over the faint lines of magic that lingered around his frame.
“This is so very, very strange,” I murmured more to myself than to him.
“Can I talk?”
“What? Oh, yes.”
“What are you seeing?”
“I see the remnants of the summoning spell itself, of course; that’s such strong magic that it will last another few days. But underneath all of that is the familiar bond itself and that’s the strange part. I didn’t complete the familiar bond with you—” I cut myself off, nearly biting my tongue by accident. No, wait, I had, that was my magic tangled up around his life force. Sards!
“You did complete it.”
My eyes flew up to his. How did he know that?!
“You did complete it, or at least your magic did,” he said, completely confident in his own words.
“How do you know?” I asked in a whisper, unable to make my throat cooperate to speak any louder.
“I can sense you. I can see your magic. It doesn’t make any sense that I can do that unless I’m bound to you and you to me.”
I found myself suddenly glad that I had taken my medicine earlier, because if anything would set off a breathing attack, it would be this. My magic was now actively binding me to other human beings?!
Warm hands cupped my face, the back of my neck, and suddenly Bannen was inches away from my face. “Breathe, Rena,” he said calmly, voice dark and warm. “Match my breathing.”
I sucked in a breath, only then realizing that the medicine had not completely prevented a panic attack.
“Good, another. Another. Like that. Breathe.”
I did my best to do as he asked but each breath felt like a battle when my lungs literally screamed for air. His hand came around and rubbed circles on my back and strangely that helped more than anything else. I found my breath again and looked up into those dark eyes. I felt like I had traded one set of questions for another. Why had my magic done this? Accidentally calling a human being was strange but still theoretically possible. But completing a familiar bonding without me even speaking a single word or drawing a single rune?!
“This shouldn’t be possible, should it.” Bannen stated it as fact.
“No, it’s not possible, I have no idea how this happened.” But I had an inkling as to why. Or maybe it was wishful thinking.
“Is this bad enough to wig out about?” he asked. “Stupid question, I guess, you did wig out. Right. Let me rephrase: How weird is this?”
“On a level of one to ten?” I asked, still feeling a little hysterical. “Thirty. I don’t understand why you’re not wigging out, as you put it.”
His eyes crinkled up again in that silent grin. “I’m strange.”
Yes, yes he was. I was starting to like his strangeness, though, as really I could freak out enough for the both of us. Another thought popped into my head and without thinking about it, my mouth ran off. “Is that why you’re so, um….” I stuttered to a stop, blushing.
“Touchy and physically demonstrative?” he filled in helpfully.
I nodded my head emphatically. Yes, that.
“Well, I’m pretty touchy-feely on a normal basis, but I do admit I’m more so with you. Maybe that’s the familiar bond in play, I don’t know. Could be too that you’re cute and I’m overprotective of cute girls.”
This time I did blush painfully. Even if he didn’t really mean the words, I liked hearing them.
Bannen eased back, a warm expression on his face that I didn’t quite know how to decipher. “So what now, my master?”
I made a face at him calling me that. “I know you want to stay longer, and honestly I need you to stay longer until I figure out what in thunderation my magic is doing. Otherwise, when I release you from this bond I might repeat this whole fiasco all over again. So, stay and help me with my jobs until I can research this properly?”
He gave me an elaborate bow, or as much as he could manage in a sitting position. “Your wish is my command.”
My parents were Not Happy about any of this. Or maybe I should say NOT HAPPY. It could even be NOT HAPPY.
I, on the other hand, was perfectly thrilled. My parents have always been a little on the over-protective side (my father more than my mother) and having so thoroughly escaped them into a land that I never thought I’d set foot on was beyond exciting. I wasn’t sure how long I could stretch this out for, but I would definitely do my best to linger for as long as possible.
For that purpose, I went hunting for Venn. He proved not difficult to find, as he sat smack in the middle of the main room where I had been summoned before, ensconced comfortably at a table near the center. This apparently was routine, as people came to him, ducked close to say something, get a response or a piece of paper signed, and then went on their merry way again. A mug of something and a half-consumed snack lingered at his elbow. For the most part he seemed focused on the thick stack of paper in his hands. He was ticking away at it, humming to himself. Whatever was written on those pages must contain good news. “Guildmaster Venn?”
Looking up, he gave me a come hither wave. “Done speaking with the parents? Good, good. Rena mentioned to me that you want to work while you’re here.”
“That’s correct, sir. I’ll be frank, I’m not keen on going immediately back. If I can find work here, and make myself a good living situation, I’d be interested in staying.”
Venn took this information with a proverbial nod. “I see. What’s your experience? Training?”
“I’ve worked as a guard, mercenary, and guide for five years.” I could see his eyes lingering over me again, this time taking in the obvious muscle on my arms, the few scars visible on my skin. “I’ve some experience in search and rescue as well, although mostly in mountains and oceans. I’ve sailed up down the Z’gher coast every summer since I was seven, so I know my way around schooners.”
I could see it on his face. Venn liked my skillset. “Alright, then, we’ll try you out.” Turning to the room in general, he called out, “Anyone up for sparring with our boy here?”
“I sure am,” a woman piped up from my right. She was sitting on a neighboring table—did no one use chairs here?—but slung herself off with cat-like grace as I looked at her. “Mazey’s the name,” she introduced herself, extending a hand.
Returning the gr
ip felt like grasping a warm iron bar. Now this was a woman that worked hard for a living and definitely knew how to use the staff leaning against her side. “Pleasure, Mazey. Now?”
“Got anything better to do?” she asked, not exactly in challenge.
These people didn’t dawdle, did they? If I could prove that I was capable to this guild, I might be invited to stay, which would solve at least three of my problems. “I reckon we should take this outside, furniture being breakable and all.”
Mazey lit up in a grin that made her seem ten years younger. Maybe it was her tanned skin adding age lines around her eyes and mouth, maybe it was the short-cropped red hair, but I felt like she was in her early forties. Up until that smile, at least, and then she seemed thirty at best. “Our furniture is reinforced with tracing spells and such. Nigh unbreakable.”
I stared at the nearest chair doubtfully. It still looked plenty breakable to me.
“But if you’re using swords…?” she trailed off, inviting a response.
“Probably shouldn’t,” I denied, “not on a first sparring match. Hand-to-hand work for you?”
“Works fine.” The look in her eyes changed to a feline satisfaction, as if I was an unwary mouse that had just stepped into a trap.
If she thought I would take it easy on her just because she was a woman, she was dead wrong. I’d learned all my dirty tricks at my mother’s knee.
People obligingly pushed tables back, forming a rough circle of open space for us to fight in. We maneuvered into the middle of it. People climbed up on top of the tables, sitting around, waiting for the entertainment to start. I got a better look at them as I settled into place. They had an unusual style of dress, every one of them, as if they were trying to advertise by their clothes what their occupation and personalities were. It almost looked like a costume party, or the getup for a play, the clothes were so obvious. Fighters wore clothing dark and comfortable, ready to tumble in. Crafters had the mark of their product all over their clothes in stains if they were actively working on something, or dressed up nicely in order to go out into the market. It made for a parade of colors and fashions.
The Human Familiar (Familiar and the Mage Book 1) Page 4