“No, you’re not, not in the least,” he responded like an indulgent grandfather. “I now understand why. Your magic, apparently, has better sense than a bunch of old fogies combined and knew exactly what it was doing. No wonder you and your familiar here fought so hard to stay together, even without the magical bond. Instinct definitely played here. But it does leave us in the middle of a sticky widget.” He thumped a fist against his boulder and I heard the soft impact of cushion and fabric. Definitely a padded bench. “We have two laws that are clashing right now. The first, of course, is that a human cannot be bound magically to a mage by use of the familiar spell. That one you’ve already run up against. The second, however, is what we’re now confronting as well: it is illegal to charge the same person with the same crime twice. In legalese, it’s called double jeopardy. That is exactly the case we have here.”
I was not really good with rules and laws and all that, but this sounded promising. “So even though I’m bound again, you can’t legally hassle Rena about it?”
“Not without breaking our own rules.” The councilman peered at us thoughtfully. “And honestly I’m not sure how I’d apply the law of the familiar against you to start with. If memory serves, you’ve got a work contract between you two, don’t you?”
This man saw likely dozens of cases a day and he remembered that?
“We do,” Rena answered hopefully.
“Then you’ve got proof of consent between the two of you.” Rubbing his hand against the ‘boulder’ he thought for a long while. “No matter how I think about it, the Council cannot charge you with anything. I’m certainly not inclined to. I have a feeling that if you tried that summoning spell again, you’d just end up with this young man for a third time. Your magic is insisting on him, for whatever reason. I learned the hard way as a youngster to not argue. Magic has more sense than men do.”
Tarkington, of course, asked the question I didn’t want him to. “Will the rest of the Council agree?”
“Agree or not, their hands are legally tied. Don’t worry about them, I’ll handle it.” When no one moved, he shooed us with both hands. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go, go, I have nothing more to say to either of you. Young woman, have you finished your Tests yet?”
“No, sir.” Rena was struggling to keep a smile off her face.
“Then finish them before someone else gets wind of this and throws another hammer into the soup. Go!”
We went.
Belonging to a guild was fun. For one thing, I had multiple sparring partners which meant that no matter the time of day, someone was usually available. Now that my arm had fully healed, I could take advantage of that. This morning, I had Lance out in the training yard with me. He was a bear of a man, literally could make two of me, and contrary to his name, he hated weapons of all sorts. His preferred method was hand to hand combat.
The training yard was crowded at the best of times, and it could get hairy if more than ten people decided to go at each other. At this particular moment we had eight sparring partners, so I wasn’t just dodging Lance, but everyone else.
Made for great training.
Eventually we stopped, shuffled off to the overhang to find some shade and down a glass or three of water. I wiped sweat off my forehead before it could seep into my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being warmed up and limber. Nothing beat training early in the morning.
“Right glad you’re with us, Bannen.”
I grinned up at Lance. “Yeah? Why’s that? No one else around to challenge you?”
“Mazey hears ya say that, she’ll wipe the floor with ya.”
“You mean she’ll try to wipe the floor with me, and why do you think I said it? I’m trusting you to pass along this conversation. When the woman’s mad she’s great fun.”
Lance bellowed out a laugh. “Ya’re crazy, boy.”
Considering Lance was twice my age, I let the ‘boy’ part slide. “I have never once claimed sanity; in fact I enjoy the craziness, it’s much more entertaining.”
Laughter danced in Lance’s dark eyes but some seriousness crept in too. “I say this because ya’re good for our Rena. We were downright worried about her, ya know, considering her health isn’t the best. Not that ya can convince her to slow down.”
I’d seen that for myself.
“We’re glad she’s got a protector,” Lance continued, staring out across the training yard, “but more, we’re glad that she has the freedom to go. To work, to explore, to get into anything that suits her fancy. I can tell by watching the two of ya that she trusts ya completely. It gives her a freedom to live that she’s never experienced before.”
I thought I saw what he meant by that too. Because I had her back, Rena could be adventurous and try things, knowing that I would support her if she truly needed it.
“Maybe that’s why she’s feeling better these days,” Lance pondered. “Never seen her this energetic before.”
He wasn’t the first to say that. In fact, compared to when I first met Rena, she was much livelier. Of course that could be because we were properly bonded again and no longer felt like death warmed over. “I’m glad her health is improving. Whatever the reason.”
“Heh, ya and the rest of u—” Lance’s eye caught something and he looked up with a strange look on his face. “Is that a—”
I caught it in the same moment he did, a strange figure perched on the roof. He was barely visible, nothing more than an eye and a hand raised in that strange position mages adopted when they were ready to fling a spell. Call me paranoid, but it looked like he was aiming directly for us.
Instinct had me shoving Lance out of the way, both of us ducking into a doorway. The spell caster was fast enough that I felt fire singe the back of my head. Swearing roundly in my native tongue, I started yelling, “TARKINGTON, SHIELD!”
There came a clatter, a sound of broken glass, and Tarkington frantically shouting back, “What?!”
“I got him,” Lance volunteered, already turning for Tarkington’s workroom.
Good. I wanted a magic shield around the guildhall first, before someone got caught in the crossfire. I had a bad feeling that rogue mage was an assassin and I was on his hit list. Rena was no good with shields, I had to get her under one before she got hit. I could feel the bond twinge at the idea of her anywhere near this rogue and it took effort to not snarl.
Great. New bond freak outs. That was apparently a thing.
Everyone in the training yard either scattered for safety or climbed up on the roof, aiming for the man. I hefted myself up as well, not willing to be a sitting duck in the yard, and kept low as I ran over the rather slippery roof tiles. The rogue mage was already running, flinging spells left, right, and center to throw people off his trail. I ducked, rolled, flung two or three spells off with a flick of the blade, and kept hot on his heels. If he thought he could aim at me and then escape, he was about as bright as a wet sock.
The assassin ran out of roof rather quickly and jumped to the next with commendable agility. I kept after him but wasn’t surprised that we’d lost half the pursuit. It was rather a long jump. The next roof, thankfully, was a flat top and easier to run on, as he used it to gain speed for the next jump. We changed roofs several times doing this, until finally I had enough. I’d trained already this morning, I hadn’t had breakfast, and if he thought I’d chase him all over this city on an empty stomach, well…he was wrong. Quite wrong. I had a mage to cuddle. I had higher priorities.
Pulling out two throwing knives, I aimed for his butt. Not dignified, but it was the biggest target I could use to reliably slow him down. Letting fly, I grinned when both struck home.
The would-be assassin squealed like a stuck pig—he rather looked like one too—and dropped to his knees. Before I could completely catch up, he opened that thrice-cursed grimoire on his belt, opened a portal, and rolled through.
I knew better than to try and snag him and pull him back. When a portal closes, it takes everything with it. Eve
rything. I did not want my hand sliced off trying to catch that assassin. I skidded to a stop, frustrated, worked up and with nothing to pound. Lamenting to the world at large, I growled, “And it started off as such a nice morning.”
I had never been so relieved in my life as I was when Bannen came into view. Master hadn’t let me run after him, despite anything I’d had to say, and it wasn’t until he was sure that Bannen came alone that he finally let go of my arm. I ran up, caught my familiar by the shoulders, and then did a quick pat down. “Injuries?”
Bannen looked at me with amusement, like I’d just asked the silliest question, but he somehow found it adorable. “Please. He wasn’t even a good assassin.”
My head shot up. “Assassin?!” I squeaked, voice going up an octave. My hands latched onto him like a vise.
“Can’t imagine what else he is.” An arm around my shoulders, he ushered me back inside the guildhall.
I did not like the sound of this. Not at all. I could feel the bond pulsing as if it had its own heartbeat. From fear? From anger? Both, most likely. Bannen held me as if he had no intention of letting go anytime soon and I felt the same, as pressing into the solid warmth of him was the only thing that kept me from flipping my lid completely. The thought of him chasing an assassin BY HIMSELF just about gave me a heart attack.
Clearly we’d have to talk about this later.
Lance and Venn hovered just inside, waiting but not wanting to brave past Master’s protective barrier just yet. Considering random assassins were popping out of the woodwork, I didn’t blame them.
“Didn’t catch him,” Lance said knowingly.
Bannen let out a growl. “Nearly. Wounded him, though. Now, I have to ask, is it common for people to send assassins out in this country? No? I didn’t think so. I don’t remember pissing anyone off today so that leaves the question: Lance? What did you do?”
“Don’t look at me,” Lance denied, not at all bothered by this accusation. “It wasn’t me he aimed for.”
I bit my lower lip, glancing uncertainly between Bannen and Master. “Is…is this the work of someone on the Council? We know how upset they were by all of this.”
Master looked like he dearly wanted to deny this but couldn’t. It was Venn, blunt as usual, that said, “Wouldn’t doubt it. Power-hungry people don’t like it when they’re defied. You’ve thwarted them twice now, Bannen. They aren’t going to take that well.”
“So I’m going to have assassins after me on a regular basis?” Bannen asked almost rhetorically. The bond pulled hard enough that I winced. Yikes, Bannen was livid on some level for me to be able to feel it like this. His voice didn’t give him away, but he couldn’t hide it from me. “At least until they get bored and stop? I’m not sure how to feel about that. In fact, that will severely crimp my style. I mean, if it was just me, I wouldn’t really care, but they’re going to be attacking me willy-nilly, right? That’ll put Rena in danger too. Sards, I do not care for this idea.”
“None of us do.” Master rubbed at his forehead, severely pained.
Venn stared at him, thinking dark thoughts. “Any chance we can figure out who’s behind this?”
“Oooh, ooh,” Bannen nearly bounced in place. “Yes. Do that. Find me a target.”
“Don’t do anything dangerous,” I pleaded with him, tightening my grip.
Bannen gave me a blank look. “But that’s everything fun.”
“Accurate,” Venn observed.
I flung both hands out and smacked both my guildmaster and Bannen on the chest.
Venn chuckled and rubbed the abused area. “Feisty. Ever since she started hanging around you, Bannen, the girl’s gotten violent.”
“I rub people that way,” he agreed easily.
I blinked, puzzled. “I think you mean ‘rub off on people.’”
Bannen’s head canted to the side a little. “What’s the difference?”
He got me there.
Master appeared less interested in language semantics than actual danger. “For now, don’t go anywhere alone. We’ll see if we can figure out who’s behind this.”
“Sure,” Bannen agreed easily.
I didn’t trust that expression. I’d seen him look exactly like that while he stole sweets off my plate. I swore right then and there I’d keep an eye on him. No, better, I’d just sit on him. He couldn’t sneak off that way.
“What a morning this is,” Master groaned, rubbed at both eyes with the pads of his fingers. “First I get the official notice, then an assassin, then that crazy letter.”
“Notice?” I asked cautiously, not sure if he was referring to the notice I had been worried about for three days now.
“Your exam notice,” Master answered with a slight smile. “You got your wish. Combat.”
I punched the air with my fist. “Yes!”
Bannen was right there with me. “That, I know we can pass.”
Leaning into his side, I beamed up at him. Yes, we certainly could. I couldn’t imagine that tackling a shard of Toh’sellor would present less of a challenge than the Test. “Alright, so when is it?”
“Tomorrow. Early in the morning.”
Venn chuckled like a troll with new gold. “You’ll smash ’em. I’m not even worried. So what’s this other thing that’s got you in knots, Jon?”
“The letter is from Magus Mark Trammel.”
I froze and felt more than a little nervous. “Um. Why?”
Master looked just as nervous and confused by this as I felt. “That is the question. The letter only said he was coming here, to expect him at the end of the week, and that he’s specifically coming to study the two of you.”
Bannen’s attention bounced between the two of us. “Anyone else confused by this? Or is it just me?”
“Magus Trammel is rather famous, even outside of the mage circles,” Lance filled him in charitably. “He’s a ‘research’ mage, or so I’ve heard. Only studies what interests him. But what he studies always seems to line the pockets of the Council somehow, so they fund him to run around the country and investigate things.”
“And we’re next on his list of things to study?” Bannen made a face. “That sounds….”
“Any chance you can lose that letter long enough for us to make a run for it?” I pleaded with Master.
He gave me a horrified look. “And leave me alone with the man? Not a chance.”
“Well, it’s not like this will kill you,” Venn soothed. “Nobody yet has actually stared a hole through someone.”
I somehow failed to be comforted.
Early in the morning, we climbed onto a trolley car and made our way back to what was becoming a very familiar building. The final Test, of course, had to happen in the Magic Council Building. This time, at least, we didn’t go through the main doors but through a secondary door that led into a half-dome building.
With all that had happened, I felt a little nervous about this Test, but at the same time I wasn’t quite sure how we’d fail it. They had given us the Combat Specialist Test, meaning we’d be fighting something or someone this morning. I wasn’t confident in a lot of things, but winning a fight? That I could do. My only real concern was that our bond was new again, meaning I didn’t have the same control over it as I did the original, and if Rena was attacked I might respond a little over-exuberantly. And by a little I meant a lot.
The door opened into a narrow hallway that divided the area with something that looked like glass but probably wasn’t. A single door waited in front of us with a sign hanging on it that said something I couldn’t read. I really needed to get around to learning Swallin. “What does that say?”
“It says wait here until the Examiner enters the ring.”
I glanced at Rena. Still no attack of nerves, and I’d half-expected some at this point. For a mage that wasn’t confident in the majority of spells, she looked strangely at ease this morning. Weren’t people normally nervous before a final exam? Granted, after that bit of Toh’sellor she put down, s
he had the rights to be confident. Maybe that was it. Still, I couldn’t help but ask, “Aren’t you nervous?”
“A little,” she confessed, a bright smile on her face. She kept rocking back and forth from heel to toe, almost bouncing in place. “But not really. We basically specialize in combat, after all, so we’ll pass.”
I looked at that expression and couldn’t help but feel a little more confident myself. Well, when she put it that way….
Turning my attention back to the Testing Center, I realized that this form of Testing must be common. Tarkington had mentioned in passing that they did have two other methods, but apparently they skewed it a little, by Testing the young mage apprentices in their strongest area. I had a feeling they wanted people to pass, not fail. This attitude was especially fortunate for Rena’s sake.
I could see through the window and I took a moment to really study the place. The room had definitely seen some fierce battles. In fact, it looked like a pair of dragons had been fighting in here. There were scorch marks on the walls, floor, and ceiling, gouges deep enough to trip over, and more than one tile of the floor was just gone. I couldn’t see most magic but this room had a visible shield up around it. It was shaped like a huge dome and there were two pairs of benches that flanked the area. For spectators? Or for judges?
From the opposite side of where we stood, a door opened and a man stepped through. He looked like he’d been in that dragon fight. He was missing his left ear lobe, there was a scar through his right eye, he was two fingers short on his right hand, and he looked weather beaten enough to leave the impression he’d been left out in the sun to dry. I had never seen a more grizzled fighter outside of my hometown. I felt an immediate kinship with the man. I had the feeling we were cut from the same cloth. At his side was this armadillo looking creature that stood slightly taller than a normal armadillo and was pure black. Strange looking thing. But then, most familiars were.
Rena took his appearance as our cue, opened the door and stepped inside. I closed the door behind us, taking up a flanking position just behind her right elbow.
The Human Familiar (Familiar and the Mage Book 1) Page 23