The Human Familiar (Familiar and the Mage Book 1)

by Honor Raconteur

  My eyes drifted down to the sleeping woman curled into my side and a bevy of conflicting emotions rolled through me. “So you’re saying that she knew if she stayed there, dealing with flaming aluminum, that she would have an attack.”

  “After the events of the past two days? It was dead certain she would.”

  And yet she had stayed. I closed my eyes for a moment, not sure how to react to any of this. Rena had stayed, knowing that she would have an attack, knowing that it would wipe her out. I was sure she didn’t like to have these attacks in front of witnesses because who would? But she hadn’t shuffled the responsibility to someone else. That took a certain amount of gumption and courage that I could respect.

  None of us said another word the rest of the way back. I didn’t really think any more trouble would head our direction today but I kept a look out anyway. More out of habit than anything else. I got twitchy if I didn’t know who and what was around me.

  It was just as well that I did.

  Why heeeeello there. Who are you? The man in the dark shirt and low-brimmed cap might have been mistaken as a dock worker, or some other day laborer, but he was entirely in the wrong part of town for that and stayed on our tail even though we switched trolley lines. I kept an eye on him, and he stayed a discreet distance, head down, never looking in our direction. It was that conscious not looking at us, ever, that gave him away. It was so unnatural to never look up and around even once.

  So who would want to have us followed? I could only think of one suspect—Corcoran Magic Council. Had to be. No one else would be curious enough or have the capital to hire an informer.

  Well. That just made things more interesting.

  Our shadow never closed the distance and while I kept an eye on him, I also let him be. I’d deal with him later, if needed. We reached the guildhall without anyone else even suspecting that we were being followed and I didn’t try to point it out. They had enough on their plates.

  I carried Rena into the guildhall, and while I noticed the reactions we garnered walking through the main room, I didn’t acknowledge any of it. People made abortive movements toward us, worried at seeing her so lifeless in my arms, shooting questioning looks at Tarkington. He was the one that waved them down, silently saying it wasn’t anything major and we had it under control.

  Rena’s room sat three doors down from mine and I made a beeline straight for it. Even though I knew which one was hers, I’d never broached the doorway before this moment. Vonda actually opened the door for me and I took a quick glance around to get my bearings as I stepped inside. Single bed in one corner, armoire in another that had so many clothes they were bursting out of it, a multicolored rug on the floor, and more art and scraps of paper than I could take in tacked to every available surface. Her workroom looked remarkably similar, the only difference the armoire and bed. It even had the same bookish smell of leather and paper.

  She woke up a little when I sat her on the bed, enough that I could wrestle her jacket off of her, but Rena didn’t have the energy to wake up properly. She settled into her mattress with a sigh. Tarkington drew her boots off, settled a quilt over her, then we both exited the room as quietly as we’d gone in.

  I waited until the door was shut before looking him in the eye again. “Tell this to me straight, Tarkington. Have you heard anything from your Magic Council?”

  He blew out a breath and looked suddenly tired, decades older. “I haven’t gotten a response yet, but they don’t do anything quickly.”

  “What do you expect that answer to be?”

  “Not positive, that much I know. I’m no expert on the law but I believe that you break at least three of them.” He gave me a sad smile. “I wish you didn’t. My own familiar helps me with Rena, acts as a familiar to her when needed, and I’ve now seen the difference between her having an animal versus human familiar. I have to say that the human familiar is more of what she needs.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that. “But I can’t stay.”

  “The Council will not likely allow you to, no. And it’s not something you’ll want for yourself, long-term, anyway.”

  Something inside me automatically bristled at his assumption. Another part of me looked sideways at that reaction. Really, what was going on with me? My emotions were all over the place. I found his words offensive, as I didn’t know how I felt about this, so who was he to judge? Making an abrupt decision, I informed him, “I’m going out for a while.”

  The sudden change in topic threw him and he blinked a few times before responding, “Oh, certainly, feel free. Dinner is always available here around six if you want to come back by then. Wait, do you have any of our currency on you?”

  “No,” I admitted.

  “Then,” he took out a wad of bills from a pocket and handed three over, “take this for today so you have a way to get back here easily. We’ll look into exchanging your money later if you end up staying any length of time.”

  “Thank you.” I didn’t have any qualms in taking the money, as I felt I had definitely earned my pay today. With a nod and smile I went back down to the main level and steadfastly ignored everyone as I left the building.

  I needed to get out and think. I needed to get my bearings on this place, as I had frankly just followed Rena around and not really explored it properly. It didn’t sit well with me, staying in an area that I barely knew. I went up one street and down another, noting what each of them held in terms of shops, cataloguing potential dangers, and finding places of retreat if something bad did happen. I’d been doing guard work for nearly six years; I knew what to look for. I knew that alley was a fatal funnel waiting to happen and I could never let Rena even near the mouth of it. I knew this market street had more than its fair share of crime by the bars and locks that people put on their merchandise. I could tell that this eastern part of town had more crime because of the quick, hunched way that people moved from one doorway to another, never staying out on an open street for long. Somehow, every time I turned a corner, my evaluations of the area wound back to Rena’s safety. It left me unsettled and spurred my feet further.

  For hours I walked, sometimes with one hand resting openly on a hilt, sometimes not as the situation called for it. I kept my bearings easily. My internal compass has never steered me wrong once. Even in crowded, convoluted streets like this, I don’t ever get lost.

  At a street vendor run by a Llasian, I bought two of the best apple fritters I’d ever had the pleasure of putting in my mouth. He had one of the raised cart beds, tall enough so that he could both see his customers and reach over the front counter. They’re a short, compact people with an almost elvish cast to their faces but with the stockiness of a woodland brownie. He was not the first I’d seen in this city, which didn’t surprise me, as there seemed to be quite a mix of races here. Brownies, elves, giants, even a few dwarves, and I didn’t think dwarves left their mountains at all unless business demanded it of them. Since the vendor seemed a friendly sort, I tried asking, “You been doing business here long?”

  “Nigh on ten years,” he informed with a satisfied smile that showed a crooked set of pointy teeth, voice soft and deep, like sand rolling downhill. “It’s not a bad place. I traveled a bit before settling here, you know, trying other areas, but Corcoran has the lowest rate of crime for a city of its size in this whole southern seaboard. I’ve never seen anyone that looks like you, boy. Where you from?”

  “Z’gher,” I responded before biting into the fritter again. I might need to buy two more, these were ridiculously addictive.

  “Z’gher!” he repeated in astonishment. “Now that’s quite the trip. How long did that journey take?”

  “About two seconds,” I responded ruefully. “Came by portal.”

  “Ah,” he intoned understandingly. “That makes more sense. I’d certainly do it that way. What do you think of Corcoran, then? Has to be different from Z’gher.”

  “Understatement,” I laughed. “It’s night and day differen
t. Hotter, more humid, and I’ve never seen such a mix of races before in one place. Even the smell of the place is different, like spices and salt.”

  “Lot of refined foods made and sold through here,” he explained with a knowing nod. “That’s what you’re smelling, especially in this district, as you’re near the warehouses. You said you came through by portal, does that mean you’re working with a mage?”

  “In a sense.” I abruptly didn’t want to talk about it. Sometimes speaking with a complete stranger is easier, as they don’t have any judgments or preconceptions about you that tangle up with what you’re trying to say, but in this case my thoughts were so snarled I didn’t even begin to know how to voice them. “Master, can I have two more of those fritters?”

  “Sure, sure.”

  I paid for them, gave him my thanks, and strolled away. I had more thinking to do, and since I’m an active thinker, I kept walking. A city of this size couldn’t be covered in an afternoon but I felt like I’d made a good dent in it at least.

  The problem boiled down to this: I didn’t know what to think of this situation at all. The people around me said that I shouldn’t have been called. Rena made a mistake. They brushed it off and didn’t ask any questions, didn’t delve any deeper than the surface. I was a mistake. That was all. Only I didn’t feel that it could be so easily dismissed.

  I was honest enough with myself to know that my protective instincts ran a little high. I could also admit that Rena’s frailty drew powerfully on those instincts. I acknowledged that. I could also concede that the familiar bond between us was likely the reason why I felt connected to her even after just two days and why my protective instincts were being wound up like a tightly coiled spring.

  All of that could be rationalized. What I couldn’t understand was why I felt perfectly content to stay with her. Until Tarkington had said something I hadn’t even questioned why I followed Rena about. It seemed perfectly natural for me to do that. Surely even a familiar bond couldn’t tame my wanderlust instincts in just three days.

  Worse, I could feel my skin becoming prickly and uncomfortable the longer I stayed away from her. Distance didn’t seem to matter at all to me either; I could close my eyes and point directly to her. No one thought that a human could be bound as a familiar, even with the bond obviously there right in front of their eyes, but I couldn’t deny these feelings and instincts. They thrummed through me like a living heartbeat.

  Would I feel differently about her if the familiar bond didn’t exist between us? Probably. Possibly. Maybe. Who knew? I had the sense that I’d have liked her regardless, as she has many of the qualities that I admire in people. She’s kind, intelligent, soft-spoken, and with an amazing work ethic. She gives herself no excuses and doesn’t duck out of things that are unpleasant. The way she had handled everything in the past three days illustrated that louder than words. Even without the bond encouraging me, I would no doubt have been friends with her.

  I stopped on a street corner, head tilted back as I watched the sun sink slowly toward the horizon. I had perhaps a half hour of daylight left which meant I should likely get back soon. I couldn’t stand this prickly feeling under my skin for much longer anyway. I doubted all familiars felt this way, as I knew they could take long trips at their masters’ behests; it was likely more because Rena was ill and the bond so new that I felt uncomfortable leaving her alone for long.

  The widely independent streak I have balked at being so tightly bound to another, but I knew, rationally, that it wouldn’t matter for much longer. That Corcoran Magic Council would likely split us up soon.

  An uncomfortable sensation welled up in my chest, like heart burn, and I smacked my palm against it, grimacing. Seriously? “This familiar bond is no joke,” I said to the air in general. I began to understand why they had laws against using it with humans. It wasn’t slavery, but it certainly manipulated a man’s emotions enough that he went willingly into bondage.

  At least, I thought it was the bond making me feel this way. It had to be. Why else would I be worried about leaving her on her own after just three days?

  The walk hadn’t really clarified anything for me, although I did feel more settled now that I knew the area better. I made my way back toward the guildhall, still thinking, still trying to settle my emotions. It didn’t really help and I couldn’t shake this instinctive feeling that I was, in fact, exactly where I was supposed to be.

  And I had no idea what to make of that.

  Rena slept the entire day away. I didn’t try to wake her up, no one did, as the consensus was that if she needed rest that badly, she could have it. I checked in on her a few times, found her peacefully snoozing every time, and so spent most of the day exploring the parts of the city I hadn’t gotten to on my first round.

  In the interest of saving money, I did return to the guildhall for dinner, which was an experience in and of itself. The word ‘rambunctious’ didn’t begin to describe this group. I couldn’t decide which was stranger—the atmosphere or the food. It didn’t truly hit me until I joined them for dinner that I was very, very far from home. Every meal was something I didn’t recognize and while most of the time it tasted quite good, I had a feeling I was going to have to make some native recipes. Just so my body didn’t rebel on me.

  I stayed rather quiet throughout dinner, trying things out and observing. These people acted more like family than friends. They really spoke and listened to each other. There was some teasing, but also a quiet support that could be felt in every word and gesture. By the time the meal was done, I became convinced that if an attack happened right then, the whole guild would react in a single body. They had that unity about them.

  The rule was that whoever cooked didn’t have to clean, and whoever didn’t cook, had to clean. I took part in the cleanup process by clearing all of the tables. We had enough hands to make this an easy and quick process. It being late, most people headed for the baths or bed. I chose to go for a bath, which led to another culture shock.

  Who had heard of not showering before getting into a tub? Didn’t that leave the bath water incredibly dirty for the next person? Seeing that the men were either showering or heading for the tubs, not both, I chose to do only a shower.

  These people were strange.

  Retreating to my room, I toweled my hair carelessly dry, pulling on loose drawstring pants and a sleeveless shirt. The room they’d lent me was actually quite nice. It had a full bed—a plus considering I was an active sleeper—armoire, table and two chairs, and a small pot belly stove to provide warmth during the winters. Corcoran was still in summer, so I definitely didn’t need it, and actually opened the window to cool the room a little, but I was too restless to really think about bed yet.

  Instead, I wandered back down to the kitchen. It was clean and unoccupied. Perfect. The kitchen was galley style, counters on both sides with a large double sink and a cold box magically spelled for the purpose of keeping food cold. A wide pantry sat on either end of the room, and I raided both until I found what I needed.

  Humming a little to myself, I put a kettle of water on to boil before pulling out a bowl and started mixing the dry ingredients together. I’d made this so many times that I didn’t have to think about it, and it brought the nostalgic feeling of home. Strange, with all my planning and schemes, never once did I imagine that I might actually miss my country. I knew I’d miss my family at some point—my long guarding jobs had taught me that—but right now it was being home that I missed. Just a little.

  “Here you are.”

  I turned, finding Rena in the doorway. “Here I am,” I agreed easily. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better, thanks,” she said with a smile, coming all the way in. Casually, as if she had done this a thousand times before, Rena put a hand briefly on my shoulder before she hopped up to sit on the counter near where I was working. “By any chance, did Master tell you about my lungs?”

  “He did,” I responded calmly, gauging her reactio
n from the corner of my eye. She looked irritated but not really upset. “He wanted to make sure I knew how to respond if you had an attack.”

  Rena blew out a breath, eyes trained straight ahead. “I suppose that was wise.”

  I made a noncommittal sound. You grow up with sisters, you have instincts with these conversations. I knew better than to say anything.

  “I can feel you too, now,” she stated with no segue whatsoever.

  My hands paused in the dough. “You can sense where I am? Like I do with you?”

  “It took a little while for me to realize it,” she said with a quirked smile, “as I’m used to seeing things on a completely different level. It wasn’t until tonight, when I couldn’t visibly see you through all the walls, that I realized I still knew exactly where you were. It’s a very strange sensation, isn’t it?”

  “It really is. Not alarming, but…odd. As if you suddenly grew an extra limb that isn’t actually attached to you.”

  “Exactly.” Rena paused, carefully sorting through the words before stating them out loud. “I know that we can’t feel emotions or share thoughts through the bond, it’s not how it works, but have you noticed that our bond has certain behavioral tics?”

  I scooped the dough into a ball and let it rest for a moment so I could really focus on her. “I can only feel the thing, not see it. What have you noticed?”

  “It hums when we’re in close proximity like this,” she explained. “And it feels stretched and a little uncomfortable if we’re any real distance from each other for an extended time.”

  Ah, those? “I’ve noticed the same thing. Is that all you’re seeing?”

  “So far. Bonds like this develop in different ways as time goes on.”

  Interesting. “I have to ask, now that you realize the connection is there on your end, do you have insanely overprotective urges where I’m concerned?”

  “Nope, that’s just you,” she replied with a grin.

  “Great,” I sighed. Someday, someone will explain to me why I felt so protective of people. It was very strange. I wasn’t always thankful for the instinct.