The Human Familiar (Familiar and the Mage Book 1)

by Honor Raconteur

  Here, seeing her animated and talking a mile a minute, I felt I was seeing her true personality.

  The only thing that bothered me was that her hair was constantly down, just hanging straight. Didn’t she ever do anything with it? In my country, only little girls let their hair do whatever. When a girl got any size to her, she started putting it up, usually in very elaborate hairstyles. I couldn’t figure out if Corcoran was just different about this or if this was an expression of how Rena thought about herself. Her clothes were always plain, she never even tried to wear makeup. Did she not find herself attractive? I certainly did.

  Shunith poked me in the ribs with her nose and gave me a long look.

  I eyed her sideways. What was that look for? Wolves couldn’t smell thoughts, could they?

  What was I being paranoid for? Of course they couldn’t.

  Shunith kept staring at me and I swear on some internal level she was laughing.

  Okay, maybe she could.

  I was jarred out of a staring contest with a wolf when Rena dropped a sack of cabbage heads and apples into my hands. “That’s the last of it. Only spent 12 noks. Ha! That should show Venn not to challenge me.”

  Seriously, bargaining skills like this were a fine art. “If I ever have to buy anything, I’m taking you with me.”

  “Naturally,” she said with a certain snarky confidence. “I am, after all, the…”

  When she trailed off, I stopped and looked askance at her. Rena stood smack in the middle of the road, her eyes caught on something and the most intense look of concentration on her face. I didn’t know what had caught her attention but it must be something. “Rena. Renaaaa. Reeeeeeena~ Hello? Seriously? Shunith, does she do this often?”

  The wolf let out a huff that sounded like a yes to me.

  I put the groceries down at the wolf’s feet to watch and reached for Rena, as apparently words would not get through. Several things happened all at once. I could see them unfold slowly, my mind sharp and clear, even as my body struggled to react in time. A teenage male barreled through on a three-wheeled cart, far too fast for this crowded area, either not caring or not seeing Rena still in the road. A Llasian on the other side shouted a warning, also moving, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to cross the street in time—he was directly in the path as well.

  Every muscle in my body strained as I tried to beat the car, tried to draw her out of its path. My hands closed on her shoulders and I yanked, pulling her sharply into my chest, turning us both. I could feel her gasp against the skin of my neck but fortunately she didn’t try to fight me and instead grabbed onto my waist.

  I couldn’t see it, but I felt something sharp and hard impact like a whip against my left shoulder, leaving a mark that burned and sent my nerves singing in pain. A high keen of pain escaped my throat but I didn’t stop moving until we were safely in between two vendors.

  “Bannen,” Rena gasped, still holding onto me but more as if trying to keep me balanced. “Bannen, are you hurt?”

  “Shoulder,” I gritted out and felt like swearing. “Shopping shouldn’t be this dangerous! Seriously, what is with today?”

  “Derek and his goonies aren’t normally this stupid. I’m so sorry, I didn’t think it would get this dangerous!” Rena looked ready to cry she was so mad.

  The Llasian showed up in that moment. Four foot tall, swarthy skin, dark hair that curled rambunctiously over his forehead, a compact and strong body, eyes golden and catlike in shape, ears pointed, although his right one missed the tip. He wore nondescript clothing that could fit a dozen or more occupations but he had the sort of muscles I associated with dockhands and fighters. “You two alright?” he asked in a mechanized voice.

  “No, he’s hurt,” Rena responded, chewing on her bottom lip in open distress. “Are you alright? That cart almost ran smack over you.”

  “I avoided it,” he assured her. “Come, step through here, I have a few healing spells and potions on me.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he herded us so efficiently into the dimmer interior of a shop that I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Rena was too worried about me to even think of protesting. The way that my arm jolted in pain at even the slightest movement told me it was either broken or dislocated and I really, really didn’t want to walk back with a lot of groceries all the way to the guildhall with a broken arm.

  The shop sold teas and pastries and other baked goods, which meant it smelled heavenly. At this hour of the day not many customers sat at the little round tables and the owner—dressed completely in white from head to toe—looked up sharply at our entrance. He dusted flour off his hands and hurried around the front counter. “What’s this? Young man, are you hurt?”

  “A reckless driver nearly ran the three of us over,” Rena explained quickly. “Can you call the Enforcers for us? I recognized who it was.”

  “Of course, sit, sit.” Even as he flapped hands us toward a chair, he hustled for the front door.

  I sank into a chair and then very gingerly eased out of my vest. The Llasian put a pouch on the table, introducing himself in that soft, mechanized voice of his. “Call me Quillin. Don’t worry, I’m an old hand at field medicine. We’ll patch you up until you can get to a proper healer.”

  Field medicine, eh? I reassessed him. He had the look of a soldier aside from some sort of magic-machine item that he wore directly over his mouth, the arm of it extending along his jawline and wrapping around to sit on his left ear. The jagged scar along his windpipe suggested he’d had use of his voice at some point until it was taken from him by that injury.

  I think well of people that help in situations like this. So even as he poked and prodded at me I managed a smile. “Pleasure, Master Quillin. I’m Bannen, this is Rena.”

  “I’m sorry for staring earlier,” Rena said, ducking her head at him. “Your device caught my eye. That is the most amazing blend of machine and magic that I’ve ever seen. It’s almost an art form, it’s so efficient. I never would have thought of integrating a base spell to—”

  “Oww!” I yelped as he rotated my arm. “Master Quillin, mercy, I cry mercy!”

  “Arm’s dislocated,” Quillin stated calmly. “Let’s pop it back in, strap you down, alright? And thank you, young lady, I do like my device as well. A clever woman made it for me.”

  “I’d love to meet her at some point,” Rena replied with a shy smile. “What can I do to help?”

  “Find me a long stretch of cloth, something to use as a sling,” he instructed.

  I did not, under any stretch of the imagination, want her going about by herself. “Shunith, take Shunith.”

  “I’ll be right back,” she assured me.

  Quillin waited until she left before asking me in a low voice, “You ever dislocated a limb before?”

  “More than once. I’m braced, do it.” I didn’t want Rena to see this.

  I’d say this for Quillin, he knew what he was doing. He popped my arm back into socket with a sharp pull, not even hesitating. My vision went white for a second at the pain and I had to sit there and breathe, just breathe, until the pain had passed.

  “You’re a good friend, to take the punishment for her.”

  I snorted and gave Quillin a dry look, or as much of one as I could manage while my arm was on fire. “Don’t be daft, man, I can’t let any woman be hurt in front of my eyes. Thank you for this, you’re better than some bonesetters I know.”

  He looked ready to say something else before Rena hustled back in, a guardsman behind her and a stretch of cotton fabric in her hands. Quillin took the fabric and made me a quick-and-dirty sling, which I appreciated.

  The guardsman looked seasoned, somewhere in his mid-thirties, and steady as he took down our report of what happened. I repeated myself twice, answered a few questions, and then he kindly called a private car to take us back to the guildhall. Quillin said a quiet goodbye and left, turning down the car, claiming he didn’t need it.

  I smiled at his back as he left
the bakery. Sometimes I lose all faith in people until I meet someone like Quillin, who just helps because it’s the right thing to do.

  As we waited for the car to arrive, a thought occurred. “I have to ask, what was your plan for lugging all of this back?”

  “You.”

  “Ah,” I intoned dryly, “so I’m BOB.”

  Rena cast me an odd look over her shoulder. “Bob?”

  “Beast of burden,” I translated.

  Rena turned that over in her head for a moment. “I like that. I’ll have to use it.”

  It didn’t answer my question, so I tried again. “What do you normally do when you go shopping? Who carries it all then?”

  “I either bribe someone into coming with me or hire a street runner to help.”

  This time, apparently, I was the substitute for that guildie or street runner. “Wait, then where’s my bribe?”

  Laughing, she didn’t really answer. “Come along, Bob, let’s make someone else cook us dinner.”

  After spending four hours shopping, deflecting spells, and earning a dislocated arm with this woman, I had more than earned the meal.

  Some people wear their occupation so well that you can tell in a glance who they are. I paused with one foot outside the kitchen, a snack for Bannen in my hands, and watched the man speaking with Venn warily. He didn’t look all that impressive, just a man with dark hair, average height, a pleasant enough face, but his bearing all shouted ‘Council Stooge’ to me. He made me distinctly uneasy and I didn’t care for the feeling.

  I’d known intellectually that the Council wouldn’t just take Master’s report at face value. They weren’t the type to take anything on faith, preferring to do their own investigations and leap to their own assumptions. Some part of me had been braced from day one that a Council stooge would eventually come to investigate. It was just that his timing couldn’t be worse. Bannen was protective even on the best of days but now? With his arm still injured and in a sling? His protective instincts were over the top and he was antsy on top of it all as he couldn’t really do much to burn off energy without aggravating his shoulder. (No one was surprised that Bannen is a perfectly terrible patient.)

  Being poked and prodded by the stooge right now might send Bannen straight over the edge. I groaned, resigned myself to a very uncomfortable situation for the foreseeable future, and put the snack back on the kitchen counter. That would have to wait.

  Fixing a smile to my face, I went straight for him, figuring I might as well get this over. “Guildmaster, we have a guest?”

  Venn knew me well enough to realize I knew exactly who this man was, but he played along. “So we do. He’s here to see you and Bannen, actually. Investigator Auman, this is Renata Rocci.”

  Auman the Stooge extended a hand with a professional smile. “Miss Rocci. I’m here on the Council’s behest to investigate the report made that you summoned and bound a human familiar. I request to speak with both you and Master Bannen.”

  I intended to continue smiling until the polite façade completely cracked, as I wanted to avoid the yelling for as long as possible. “Of course. Let me fetch him. Just a moment.”

  Auman took a seat as I scurried back into my workroom, where Bannen lounged on my couch and pretended to read one of my books. Mostly he sat there so he could pester me, and I knew it, but I didn’t actually mind the company. I had spent far too many hours in this room alone to mind. “Bannen. A st—” whoops can’t call him a stooge “—investigator from the Council is here. He wants to ask both of us questions.”

  Bannen immediately closed the book and set it aside. “Really? They had to send someone now?”

  I shrugged ruefully. “My thoughts exactly. Anyway, come on. Better to just get this over with.”

  He didn’t look sold on that idea—I think he mentally hatched a plan on the spot to run for it—but he followed me out. Either because of a momentary obedience (hah! Fat chance) or a desire to make sure this man didn’t run roughshod over me. Latter’s more likely. We’d been together barely a week and I’d realized in that time that Bannen had a rebellious streak a mile wide. If he liked you, he’d move heaven and earth for you and wouldn’t question if you needed a body buried. If he didn’t like you, he’d move heaven and earth against you and would plant a body in your front sitting room. It’s just how he is.

  I counted myself lucky he seemed to like me. Enough, at least, to deal with troublesome investigators.

  Auman stood as we approached, initial greeting sliding away as he took in Bannen’s arm. Still, he introduced himself properly. “I’m Investigator Auman, sent here on behalf of the Council. Bannen Hach?”

  “That’s me,” Bannen responded politely, in his usual casual tone. “Sorry, I can’t shake hands,” he added with a smile that hinted he was just as glad he had an excuse not to.

  Auman either didn’t catch the subtext or didn’t care as he responded, “I quite understand. How did you get injured?”

  “Another mage apprentice driving recklessly through the market yesterday,” I explained, gesturing both men into seats and carefully taking the one between Bannen and Auman. Just in case. “It would have hit me, but Bannen jerked me out of the way in time. Unfortunately, he still got clipped in the process.”

  “And did you see who it was driving?” Auman inquired with a frown.

  “I did, yes, and we’ve already reported the situation to his master.”

  “I see.” Auman’s tone suggested he might pry into that again later, but apparently that satisfied him for now. “I’m given to understand, Miss Rocci, you are Jon Tarkington’s only apprentice, is that correct?”

  I really didn’t see how that had any bearing on the matter but answered, “That’s correct.”

  “You’ll forgive my surprise, as that’s highly unusual, for a mage to take on only one student.”

  “My magic is very strange and complicated.” I felt defensive as I answered, not quite sure why. “Master spends an inordinate amount of time trying to unravel why my magic works the way it does. I don’t think he has the spare time to take on another apprentice until after I’ve passed the Tests.”

  “I see.” Auman made a note and I had to wonder, really, why did that matter? Most mages took two or three apprentices, granted, but not always. I was an unusual case, true, but not rare. Glancing up, Auman continued, “Master Bannen, I need to verify some information before I can really start my inquiry. If you don’t mind?”

  “Go ahead,” Bannen encouraged, still with that eerie smile on his face.

  Taking a notebook out of his pocket, Auman flipped a few pages, readied a pen, and read off a series of questions. Mostly he verified Bannen’s legal name, his origins, parents’ names, and what day he came here. With that out of the way, he asked, “When did you meet Miss Rocci?”

  Bannen gave him a look like he had lost his mind. “The day she summoned me.”

  “You never had any prior experience with her before this?” Auman pressed.

  “No,” Bannen answered, slower this time, as if he couldn’t quite put a finger on where the man was going with this question. Then he did and I swear he rolled his eyes on some level. “The part of us being half a world apart and on different continents might have something to do with that,” he added a touch acerbically.

  Waesucks. We were barely six questions in and already Bannen was fraying. This really would go poorly. I reached over and put a hand on his knee, cautioning him with my eyes. Calm down.

  He took in a breath, eyes lowering before flicking up, and when he did I could feel him forcefully settling his temper.

  Again, Auman acted as if he didn’t hear the subtext or notice our interaction. I didn’t think him that stupid, more like he was deliberately ignoring what he wanted to. “When Miss Rocci summoned you, did she ask for your consent before completing the bond?”

  Bannen picked through the words carefully. “She never spoke the words to complete the bond.”

  That, finally, m
ade Auman pause and truly look up from his notebook. “I’m sorry?”

  “I never spoke the rest of the familiar incantation,” I clarified with a small shrug. “We’re all surprised, actually, that the bond is fully formed between Bannen and I. I never did anything to complete it. The moment that I realized a human being had come through the summoning portal, I immediately disengaged.”

  Auman’s brows furrowed into a deep frown as he stared directly at the bond. “That’s not possible.”

  “We’re just as confused,” I admitted openly. “But I have fifty something witnesses to the summoning, as most of my guild were in the room when I did it, and they can vouch for me. I never completed the familiar incantation, never even tried.”

  His frown didn’t lessen but he made a little note in his book and moved on. “Master Bannen, at any point did Miss Rocci ask your consent about the bond?”

  “She did,” Bannen answered and while not technically true, it wasn’t a lie either, and he apparently decided to go with the spirit of the truth. “She asked if I would stay at least long enough for her to figure out what had gone wrong. I told her I would act as her familiar until we were ready to break the bond.”

  “You are aware that you are breaking three different laws by being bound to her?”

  “I’m aware that your laws are against magically enslaving humans and coercing bonds without consent of both parties,” he riposted so neatly that I wanted to clap. Well said! “I have been informed that your laws find the binding of two people on a magical level to be unethical.”

  “So you are aware you are in violation of those laws?”

  Bannen gave him what might charitably have been called a smile. “I’m aware that something screwy has happened and we’re magically bond together, but since we’re both consenting adults and in full knowledge of what’s happened and how to break the bond, I’m not feeling at all coerced or enslaved.”

  That didn’t answer the question either. Auman tapped an agitated rhythm against his notebook with the end of his pencil. “Answer my question with a simple yes or no.”