The Human Familiar (Familiar and the Mage Book 1)

by Honor Raconteur

  “Now that,” Judge 4, the only one that hadn’t spoken yet, pronounced gravely, “is the first sensible thing you’ve said, young man. He is quite correct. If he is no longer bound to Miss Rocci, and they have duly offered to return him home, then there is nothing for the Council to take into consideration. They have obeyed the laws and orders we set forth. If this young man chooses to stay, and is legally bound to Miss Rocci, that is entirely their business.”

  Judge 1 didn’t like this. “Walter, really—”

  “I see a clause right here,” he tapped the bottom of the page with a blunt fingertip, “that states if at any point this young man wishes to terminate their contract and return home, then she is obligated to send him back. They have covered everything, I think, with this contract.”

  I sure hoped so. We’d certainly tried to.

  “Miss Rocci also has the freedom to summon a familiar,” Judge 4 continued in that same weighty tone that seemed to pronounce the tilt and axis of the world spinning. “She will be able to continue with the Tests. I see nothing to object to.”

  The judges stirred again, whispering to each other. I retreated to the podium and Rena popped up to stand behind me, whispering, “I think it’s working.”

  I was inclined to agree.

  Judge 1 and 2 really wanted to punish someone, just because they were perturbed and out of sorts and in the mood to. I could see it on their faces. Judge 4 had an eagle eye on them and I had a feeling, because of his age, that he was the most senior judge there. No one was quite willing to get into an argument with him about this.

  In fact, he cleared his throat, settling them into silence, and pronounced the verdict. “Master Hach, your argument is well made. I see no reason to penalize either you or Miss Rocci for the past events. It was, after all, a very extraordinary situation. Miss Rocci, we do require that you summon a familiar before you are allowed to take part in the Tests.”

  “I understand, sir,” she agreed hastily.

  “A more specific summoning spell this time,” he added with what might have been the faintest of smiles. “To avoid problems.”

  “We’ve already made adjustments,” Tarkington assured him.

  “Good. In that case, I pronounce this case dismissed with prejudice.”

  I had no idea what that meant but it sounded good, so I took it. “Thank you, sir.” Gathering up Rena with one arm, Tarkington with another, I hustled them out the door.

  Rena let out an explosive breath as soon as we were outside again. “I can’t believe that worked. I was sure they were going to penalize me somehow.”

  Tarkington didn’t stop walking but he kept casting me bemused glances. “Where did you learn to do that, Bannen? That trick of continuing to talk without getting upset. You literally verbally browbeat them into agreeing with you.”

  “I have five older sisters,” I responded dryly. “Does that answer your question?”

  He laughed and there were some memories mixed up in that reaction, I could see it on his face. “Yes, it does, actually. Well. We somehow got out of that mess because of you and your gilded tongue. Let’s take the win.”

  “I’m all for that.” I hesitated to ask this, but I needed to know, and there wasn’t going to be a good time to broach the subject, so I just threw it out there. “Rena. How much left do you have to do before you take the Tests? Do you need to summon a familiar right away?”

  Her mouth puckered like she’d just bitten into a rotten lemon. “Basically. I’ve accumulated enough work experience and I’ve already passed the written exam. It’s down to summoning a familiar and taking the final Test, whatever that is.”

  She was that close? “And how much time do you have to do that?”

  “It’s generally frowned upon to wait more than a month to finish all of the Tests,” Tarkington explained, ushering us toward a trolley station. “And she took the written test two and a half weeks ago. Rena summoned you literally a few days after she took the exam and got the results back.”

  “So, in other words, we have no time.”

  “That’s the size of it,” Rena stated, resigned and upset.

  I eyed her sideways. I had a feeling that she was a mix of emotions right now just like me. I still felt raw although the pain no longer crippled me. Rena had to be feeling the same. At the very least, she had to be upset about breaking our bond, and here she was being forced to summon another familiar when emotionally she really wasn’t ready to face that again. I certainly didn’t like the idea of her bonding to something else right in front of me. It made me twitchy and irritable although I did my best to tamp down on it. Rena kept biting down on her bottom lip, which made me think she liked the idea about as well as I did.

  Still, we both knew she had to do it. Rena was likely nervous too, as the first time she hadn’t exactly gotten the pristine result people were looking for. What if something strange happened again?

  Tarkington realized she was nervous and assured her as we took the bench, “We’ve made enough adjustments that a mistake won’t happen again. I’ll have Vonda stand by and observe, just in case. If you do summon something they can’t accept, we’ll just send it back, quietly, and try again.”

  True, if there was no audience, then no one could report that things had gone pear shaped again.

  Rena nodded slowly, agreeing to all of this, but I could tell she still didn’t like it. Very reluctantly, she asked, “Should we try this today?”

  “I think we’ve all been through enough today,” Tarkington disagreed. “Let’s do this in the morning.”

  I felt incredibly, soul-shaking nervous. Literally, my soul trembled, that’s how anxious I was about this whole thing. The remnants of the old bond still sat within me, a hot loadstone that I couldn’t shift or make subside. I felt like I betrayed Bannen by even considering summoning another familiar, and that thought did not sit well. My stomach twisted itself into knots and my lungs threatened to have an attack at any moment. I’d already downed two medicine packets this morning to keep that from happening and had two more stashed in my pocket, just in case.

  Forming a new bond when the wound of the old one was still fresh hurt badly enough, but I also had a terrible case of nerves mixing into this volatile emotional cocktail. Summoning a familiar once is a trial by fire in a sense, a make or break moment that showed someone either had the talent to be a mage or didn’t. I didn’t know what that said about me, who had to do it over again even though I technically succeeded the first time.

  My palms were sweaty, hands shaking, and I kept rubbing them against my thighs. Bannen put a hand against my back, the touch supportive and strangely calming. “Calm down,” he urged, “it’s not like you’ll fail this. Your magic summons just fine.”

  Why did his touch still settle me? Not that I wanted to question it, I was glad. “I know Master said it would be fine, but what if I summon something strange again?” I fretted openly, staring at the summoning circle on the floor.

  “Oh, so I’m strange? Thanks a lot, Rena, love you too.”

  I glared at him over my shoulder. “You know what I mean.” And if I somehow summoned another person, I was sending them straight back.

  Master Vonda gave a soft sound that might have been a laugh even as she examined the summoning spell I had inscribed in chalk on the floor. She had been kind enough to come directly after breakfast. Not that I had eaten breakfast. I couldn’t stomach the idea of food. Master Whit sat next to the door, relaxed and interested in the proceedings. He had volunteered to come and witness the event today as well, just in case we needed more than one witness. Not that anyone wanted to say that. Still, I was glad he had come because the Council was clearly aware that Master Vonda and Master were best friends and having one more neutral witness couldn’t hurt.

  Good to his word, Master had cleared out a corner of his workroom so that I could do the summoning this time in relative privacy. Only the five of us were in the room and Venn the only person in the guild that knew what w
e were attempting this morning.

  Master cleared his throat, cutting in before we could start bickering. “I’d suggest starting the incantation sooner rather than later.”

  Considering how much of a strain summoning magic was on me? I took in a deep breath, settled my nerves as much as I could—which was frankly not at all—and held out both arms toward the circle. Carefully, oh so very carefully, I said the spell to summon a familiar. It was such an ancient one that it had a sing-song quality to it.

  The circle on the ground took on a distinctive glow, sparkling in a rainbow hue, lighting up. I felt torn between satisfaction that it was working and worry. The old bond throbbed but strangely not with pain, as it had been doing. I hadn’t thought about it before, but when my new familiar arrived, would the old bond fade completely, replaced by the new? It was a question I hadn’t thought to ask before now.

  I dared a peek at Bannen but I couldn’t read his expression as he stared straight ahead at the summoning circle. Heart in my throat, I peered anxiously through the swirling magic particles as they grew thicker and brighter, trying to decipher what this new familiar would look like.

  Wait. That…surely it wasn’t…

  The light faded, and standing there in the center of the circle was a very bemused Bannen.

  We stared at each other for several long seconds before Bannen threw back his head and laughed. I slowly joined in, although my laughter had a hysterical note to it. Seriously?! “Did I just summon you twice?”

  “You did,” he choked out, “and I don’t know why that strikes me as funny but it is hilarious. Truly hilarious.”

  Once again the bond snapped into place without me actually finishing the incantation. I poked at it, stunned, but mostly relieved. The pain of separation had fled, nothing more than a bad memory, and in its place a new bond spread out, filling every void I’d been carrying. I finally felt like I could breathe. Delighted, I did a pirouette before launching myself at him, hugging him around the neck. “Mine! Mine, mine, mine!”

  “Why do I feel like a teddy bear being squashed by a three year old?” Bannen asked, although he gripped me just as tightly. The contact made our bond hum happily.

  I had absolutely no intention of letting go of him for at least the rest of the day. Maybe the next week. I snuggled into him and sighed, blissful and secure.

  “You look like one too,” Vonda assured him, voice rich with humor.

  Bannen’s arms were tight around me, locked in place, and I think he was completely on board with the not-letting-go-today plan. “Well, Tarkington, your mystery is solved—me being called to her is not an accident. Her magic knows exactly what it’s doing.”

  “Magic is not an intelligent entity,” Master complained rhetorically, obviously confused by this whole thing. “Magic is logical, it reacts to specifications that we set, limitations and guidelines and why by all that is holy does it insist that Rena have you? This is insane. Mages summon more than one familiar in their lifetime, why would it pick you again?!”

  “Don’t know.” Bannen’s devilish grin said he didn’t care either. “But if she summoned me twice, then surely your Council can’t complain or say it’s a mistake.”

  Wait, what had Bannen just said? I’d been so wrapped up in the technical aspect of how I could possibly summon the same thing twice that it had escaped me that I now had a solid reason to keep Bannen. He was right. The first time might be dismissed as a mistake, but there was no way they could claim that the second time.

  If I got any happier than this, I might just combust.

  “Well.” Tarkington looked more than a little lost. “I have no idea how to report this but I’m suddenly very glad that we have witnesses. I have a feeling that we’re going to need it. Vonda, Whit you were watching closely?”

  “Watching and listening. She clearly stipulated ‘non-human’ and her magic overrode that and still summoned Bannen. There’s no way to refute this.” Tapping a finger to his lower lip, Master Whit’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Actually, because he now has a contract already in place with her, I think we have a legal loophole. They cannot make the case that Bannen is being forced to work with her. He’s already contracted to do so.”

  I perked up. That was right, they couldn’t say that it was magical slavery or whatnot because of the contract.

  Bannen heaved an exaggerated sigh, whole body moving with the mannerism. “If you’re asking me to tackle that lot of stuffy vultures again, I will, of course I will, but can’t someone feed me first?”

  Not relinquishing my hold on his neck, I grinned up at him. “Rice balls and tea?”

  “You read minds now?” he asked, mouth kicked up one side.

  “Nah, you’re just predictable.”

  Having the familiar bond back in place was such a relief that I nearly felt overwhelmed with it. I could tell Rena felt the same as she would just tackle me with a hug at random, giggle, and then bounce away again. It was hard to describe the feeling. It was sort of like waking up from a panic dream where in the dream, you’ve lost an arm, but when you wake up, you realize all of your limbs are still attached. The past thirty-six hours, I’d been in a bad dream where my arm was missing and finally, now, I was awake again. The pain of the separation was long gone, nothing more than a memory, but it still felt strange. This new bond wasn’t our old one. The nuance felt different to me. The old one had had a certain weight to it, like flaxen cord that tied me to her.

  This bond felt lighter, stronger, a more direct connection to her. I had to wonder why. Maybe because she’d had more practice in summoning, Rena had done better at it the second go round? Or was it something else? Maybe because the magic knew that this time I was willing to stay with her. It wasn’t trying to connect two random strangers but two people that knew and liked each other.

  I did still feel raw enough that I wanted Rena within arm’s distance as much as possible. She felt the same and we moved as a unit, never far from each other, and often with our hands linked. I felt a little like we were starting over, rebuilding the bond from the ground up, but that was alright. Anything was better than walking around feeling like my heart had been yanked from my chest.

  As none of us wanted to put off talking to the vultures, we left for the Magic Council Building directly after breakfast. It was impressive, in size at least, with the usual towers and ornate trim as one would expect from a magical building. I personally hated it and hoped we didn’t have to come again in the future.

  Braving the front doors, we trooped to the front reception desk. The woman standing behind it looked perhaps five years older than I did, dressed sensibly and with her hair up. When I stopped in front of her, she looked up with a professional smile on her face. “Yes, can I help you?”

  Tarkington stepped in and asked, “We need to speak with one of the Magic Councilmembers, rather urgently.”

  “I see, and you are?”

  As she got information from him, I saw from the corner of my eye a face that I knew. Wasn’t that Judge 4, the one that was sensible? He was speaking quietly with someone else several feet down the hallway.

  On a hunch, I went directly for him, ignoring the distraught receptionist that called after me to stop. She was likely going to schedule us in for some appointment later in the year, I could tell by the tone in her voice. Not knowing the man’s name, I instead went with, “Councilman.”

  Both men looked up, one vaguely curious, the other avidly so. Judge 4 turned to face me more directly and I could tell the very moment that he saw it. His eyes were glued to my chest, wide and bulging, threatening to pop out of his head altogether. “Y-you—you didn’t—” he spluttered.

  It was not the moment to smile, but my mouth did it without permission. “She summoned me again.”

  Judge 4’s face crimped, a headache arriving full force in a split second. “My office. Now.”

  See? Skipping the receptionist was faster.

  His office turned out to be right behind him, and he
jerked it open before shoving all four of us inside. I don’t know what I expected from a Magic Councilman’s office, but this wasn’t quite it. There was no desk, no chairs, no ordinary office clutter. Instead, the whole room looked like an expansive forest with wildlife and babbling brook included. Sitting on a branch with her head tucked under a wing was a rather elaborate phoenix that I realized, after a startled beat, was not an illusion. She peeked at us sleepily, yawned, and went right back to her nap.

  The councilman took a boulder—I bet it was actually a soft cushion, but looked like a mossy boulder—and waved me impatiently closer. “My knees can’t take me standing anymore, you come here and don’t make me move.”

  My grandmother had the same complaint all the time so I moved without really thinking about it.

  A gnarled finger rose and traced the path of the spell as it wound in and around me. Or at least, I assumed that was what he did, as I couldn’t see an ounce of magic until something was set on fire. He frowned, muttered to himself, narrowed his eyes several times, then gestured impatiently for Rena. She joined us, standing very still at my side as he repeated the process with her. Huffing out an astonished breath, he finally sat back, hand slapping his thigh. “Astonishing. Simply astonishing.”

  Tarkington cleared his throat and dared, “Councilman, this is Magus Vonda MaCrae and Master Whit Avis, and they witnessed Rena’s second familiar summoning—”

  The councilman grumbled out, “Enough, man, I can see for myself. It’s clearly in the spell, what she attempted, as the traces of it haven’t faded yet. She specifically said ‘non-human’ and still got him. Astonishing!” His eyes bounced between the two of us, shaking his head in a bemused manner. “I would say inconceivable if I wasn’t looking at it myself.”

  While that sounded good, I wasn’t sure what conclusion he’d drawn. “So…?”

  “So,” he agreed. “This is a fine pickle you’ve landed me in, young magus.”

  Rena tried very, very hard to look apologetic. She didn’t quite pull it off. “Sorry?”