The Human Familiar (Familiar and the Mage Book 1) Read online

  “No, of course it wouldn’t,” Renata said sympathetically. She looked perfectly miserable again, gaze falling to the cobblestones under our feet. “I wasn’t even thinking of a human being. I mean, familiars are always some type of animal!”

  I sighed as she went back to being depressed. Apparently this situation was grave or disturbing enough that no amount of levity on my part would keep her spirits up.

  “It truly is puzzling,” Tarkington remarked to no one in particular. His tone was that of a man thinking out loud. “I’ll have to review everything we did very carefully to figure out what went wrong. In the meantime, Master Bannen, if you’d follow me? I’ll introduce you to our guildmaster and we’ll set up some accommodations for you here until we can arrange to send you home again. I will of course set up a way for you to speak with your family by tonight so they’re not worried about you.”

  “I appreciate that, sir, thank you.” I gave Renata a hand so she could hop off the wall and then followed them inside. As I moved, I regarded their backs thoughtfully. Something nagged at me. These two were so dead-set that this whole thing was a mistake, but…was it really? That didn’t feel quite right to me. I wasn’t sure why, it just didn’t.

  Also, now that we were out of that bright sunlight, I noticed something a little strange. From head to toe, Renata had the faintest hint of a light glow, as if she exuded energy all on her own. Tarkington didn’t. Was this some magical aftereffect? Because she was the one that had brought me through, I was a little connected to her? I didn’t know enough about magic to really guess why.

  I shrugged off the speculation. Tarkington had stopped in front of an older man that had to be in his sixties, red hair peppered with white, strong jaw, and a pure white handlebar mustache that hid his mouth entirely. He sat on the table, a tankard in his left hand and pen in his right, which he put down on my approach.

  “Well, that was quite the show, you two,” he greeted in a voice that had an undertone of gravel. “Can’t say I’ve seen this before or heard tale of it either.”

  Renata went back to hiding behind her hair again. I had a bad feeling she did that often.

  Trying to circumvent an embarrassing situation, I held out a hand. “Name’s Bannen, sir.”

  The guildmaster took it, his hand strong and calloused. “Venn. Nice grip, Bannen.”

  “Can say the same for you.” This man had ‘brawler’ written all over him. Even if he was three times my age, I knew he’d give me a run for my money if we sparred.

  “I expect you’ll need to stay here a while until things get sorted out.” Venn gave a pointed look at the two mages. “You’re welcome to make yourself at home.”

  “I appreciate that, sir, thank you.” I consciously put in the extra effort to be polite to this man, as I did not want to be on his bad side. I was in a foreign country, without much money to my name, and I didn’t even know if the money that I had would work here. “Ah, if you don’t mind my asking, where am I?”

  “Strickmaker Guild, Corcoran.”

  That answered the question and yet didn’t. That was not a name I recognized. “On, ah, what continent?”

  That made everyone nearby turn and really look at me.

  “Perrone,” Tarkington answered slowly. “Bannen, where are you from?”

  “Z’gher,” I answered, naming the country instead of my hometown. I had the feeling they wouldn’t recognize it.

  Venn bit off an oath. “Z’gher! Boy, you’re two continents away!”

  “Had a feeling.” I wasn’t sure whether to be happy about this or…actually I mostly felt overwhelmed. That was some powerful magic. Most portation spells didn’t reach that far, hence why people used ships and trains to transport goods. I gave Renata a considering look. The spell might have gone awry, true, but just how powerful was she?

  “Well. Now I understand why you have that tribal look to you, not to mention that accent.” Venn gave me another head to toe sweep of the eyes. Whatever conclusions he drew, he kept to himself. “You any good with those swords?”

  I was always up for a good sparring match. I gave him a challenging grin. “Want to try me?”

  Venn gave me a grin that crinkled up his eyes. “Later, kid. Right now, got more important things to sort out. Here, sit.” He kicked out the chair next to him.

  I set my swords and pack down on the table, to make sitting less awkward, before giving him my attention. Once he was satisfied that I was settled, he put the tankard down completely, resting his forearm on his knee and leaning comfortably forward. “Now. You got family?”

  “Yes, sir. A large one.”

  “I bet they’re missing you.”

  I gave a wry shrug. “Right about now, no. Still predawn where they are.”

  “Oh? Time difference that big? Alright, then, that gives us a little time to figure out what to do with you.” His eyes lingered over my gear on the table. “Although that begs the question, what are you doing up this early and with traveling gear on you?”

  I noticed from the corner of my eye that Renata crept closer, wanting to hear the answer to this herself. I shifted so I faced both of them, as I had promised to tell her. “Planning to stowaway on a merchant vessel.”

  Venn’s expression turned purely reminiscent, making me think he’d done something similar in his misbegotten youth. And I knew he had one—the man fairly reeked of ‘reformed troublemaker.’ “Do tell.”

  Splaying my hands, I tried to look innocent. “Not many lines of work where I’m at. Basically boils down to three. I didn’t like any of my options. But my parents wouldn’t hear of me going off and finding my own way in the world. After going several rounds with them about this, I decided it was easier to get forgiveness than permission and made my own chance.”

  “Mother’s a worrywart?” Tarkington asked in a knowing tone.

  Shaking my head, I corrected, “Father. My mother’s ready for all of her kids to leave the house, but my father’s a very careful man in some ways. He wants to keep his kids close. A’ba doesn’t argue per se, but he’s been doing everything in his power to prevent me from going. My only choice was to make a run for it.”

  “I bet this,” Venn circled an illustrative finger in the air, “was more than you expected.”

  Oh boy was it ever. “My uncle always said, when a man sets off for an adventure, he can’t complain if it takes him strange directions.” I gave Renata a quick smile as I said this, trying to assure her again that I didn’t really mind being here. The way she perked up made me think she was glad I had said that. “Grant you, this is not the adventure I signed up for—I think I missed the boat for that one—but I’m thinking this place will be far more interesting.”

  “He’s right in that. Glad you’re taking this well, Bannen. We’ll sort things out, but first, I think you should call home, yeah?”

  “Do I absolutely have to? I still have hangovers of must-obey-parents. Even though I’m an adult, I’m a brand new adult and old habits die hard. I left them a note before leaving, won’t that suffice for the time being?”

  Venn just looked at me.

  Some things were universal, no matter what culture you were in. I interpreted that expression well enough and sighed. If my parents started yelling at me, well…. I mentally braced for the argument that I knew was forthcoming. “Yes, Guildmaster.”

  Perhaps Venn could see the reluctance all over my face as he gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “They can’t reach you from here.”

  “Thank all the deities for that,” I muttered.

  Poorly hiding a smile, Tarkington offered, “We can go up to my workroom and call home for you there, although I’ll need about an hour to prepare first. I still have to trace your path, although knowing where you’re from will speed matters along.”

  “That’s fine.” I was perfectly willing to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

  Renata surprised me by softly asking, “Perhaps while you’re waiting, you’d like to ha
ve breakfast? You said it’s very early where you were.”

  Indeed it was. It seemed to be near noon here, but as long as I was fed, I didn’t care what meal it was. “Sure, sounds good.”

  Happy, she gestured for me to follow her. “We’ll go across the street. You can leave your gear there, it will be fine.”

  I didn’t; I belted on both swords, as I do not under any circumstances go about unarmed. Only then did I follow her out.

  Well, this situation was beyond strange, but at least I’d get a good story out of it, if nothing else.

  Bannen followed me outside and I honestly had no idea what to think. I felt…nervous. I couldn’t pinpoint why I felt that way, I just did. Bannen hadn’t done anything to make me uncomfortable—in fact he had been a very good sport about this entirely weird situation, and yet I felt like I had butterflies duking it out in my stomach.

  Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with him. My magic has always been strange, but it’s a largely predictable strangeness. I’d figured out the rules of how it works, even though I still puzzle over why it works that way, and seeing it do something this nonsensical had thrown me for a loop. Why would it bring a man to me? Why not a sentient weapon, or an animal, as all familiars are? I must be missing some part of the equation, but at the moment the answer completely eluded me.

  I made mental notes to dig into this later, when Bannen was preoccupied with something else. For now, I owed him at least the courtesy of showing him around so that he didn’t feel trapped inside the guildhall. I’d traveled some in my life and the one thing that unnerved me more than anything else was being stuck in one place without knowing where anything else was. I hated being uncertain or feeling lost. I couldn’t imagine that anyone was fine feeling that way, actually, and I especially didn’t want Bannen to experience it. Even if he was the adventuresome sort, I wanted him to be at least semi-comfortable here until we had to time to find our answers and send him back home.

  We walked silently across the street to one of my favorite cafes. It was small, had a good atmosphere with its plain furniture and brightly colored walls, and the food was not only good but cheap. Eight years ago, when I’d first moved here, it had almost instantly become one of my favorite haunts. Because of that, I greeted the owner/cook by name. “Rob! Can I have a menu?”

  Sticking his head out of the back kitchen, Rob gave me an incredulous look. “Rena, you haven’t needed a menu in years!”

  I pointed to my companion. “He does.”

  “Ahhh, brought a friend this time, eh?” He gave Bannen a once over and curiosity filled his face. “Sure, sit, sit, I’ll bring you a menu. Water for both of you?”

  I glanced uncertainly at Bannen, not sure, and he was the one that answered, “Water’s fine.”

  Picking a table at random, I gestured him into it and warned in a low voice, “The drinks are the only thing I wouldn’t recommend here. They tend to be very tart and sour. Rob apparently likes them that way.”

  “I like sour things,” Bannen responded, perking up a little. “Maybe I’ll try one.”

  Awkward silence reigned for a moment as neither one of us seemed to know what to say. I felt the urge to put him more at ease with me and cleared my throat before offering, “Um, Master Bannen, one thing? It’s weird to have you call me Mistress Renata. Just Rena is fine.”

  It was the right thing to say. He gave me a quick grin, eyes lighting up. “Rena it is, then. You can drop the ‘mister,’ too. I’m not sure on the niceties in this culture; it’s alright to address people by their first name without an honorific?”

  “Perfectly fine unless they’re high ranking,” I assured him. “Er, is this not the case where you’re from?”

  “Nope, not at all. Z’gher has more levels of formality than you can shake a stick at. The hierarchy is something you have to adhere to pretty strictly. I’m actually very glad that you pulled me away from all of that. It’s refreshing to not have all of those pesky rules.”

  Reminded of my blunder, I tried not to grimace. How in the world had my magic pulled a human being of all things?

  Either Bannen read people well or my terrible gaming face gave me away. He leaned toward me a little. “Still sorry about all this?”

  “Sorry and very confused on how it happened,” I responded with resigned embarrassment. I was never, ever, going to live this down. I had already mentally added it to the tally of other things I wasn’t going to live down. “My magic’s very different than most mages, granted, but this is a pretty basic spell. I usually don’t have this much trouble with the basic spells.”

  “Different? How is your magic different?”

  He wasn’t grilling me, just honestly curious. I hated this question more than any other because I have to defend myself all of the time, but I felt like I owed him an explanation. I’d drawn him into my mess and he was being perfectly pleasant about the whole thing. At the very least I owed him answers.

  Just as I opened my mouth to explain, Rob came with the menus and waters, which he sat down. At this point, he apparently had drawn several wrong conclusions and gave me a wink and an encouraging smile before escaping back into the kitchen. Rob, seriously? I’m not on a date.

  “He thinks we’re on a date,” Bannen stated, amused.

  “It’s because we look close in age.” That and Bannen was rather good looking in a foreign way. His face was comprised of sharp angles and slanted eyes, so he wasn’t the soft playboy look so popular right now. His hair was drawn back in a multitude of small braids hanging down past his shoulders, and his skin had small silvery nicks where old scars showed sharply. I saw a few scars on his bare upper arms as well. I let my eyes linger for a second over him, as I liked the way he dressed. He wore a dark green vest that was a wrap-around, held in place by a wide leather belt, and unlike fashion here, the shirt was loose over dark pants. He didn’t wear boots, either, but some sort of thick-soled sandal. It was all very exotic looking, the very epitome of the tribal warrior he was.

  Bannen quirked a brow and looked me over in return with an exaggerated sweep of the eyes. “I think we actually are. I’m nineteen.”

  Oh? “I’m sixteen.”

  “Then only three years apart? Huh.” Bannen picked up the menu and then frowned. “Ahh…what language do you speak here?”

  “Swallin,” I answered slowly and then felt like smacking myself. Of course he wouldn’t be able to read that. It was a native tongue to this country alone. “Sorry, Rob is a traditionalist, his whole menu is in Swallin. Here.” I took the menu out of his hands and flipped it about. It was a rather long sheet of possible food to be had and I didn’t want to read all of it. So, instead I asked, “What are you in the mood for? Rob does sandwiches, salads, pans, and desserts.”

  “Pans?” Bannen parroted blankly. “What’s that?”

  This wasn’t a dish they had in his country? “It’s a type of bread. You can stuff anything in the middle of it—meats, cheeses, vegetables—and then it’s baked. It’s what I generally order here.”

  “Order me one of those,” he stated decisively.

  “I warn you, they’re only about this big,” I held my hands in a square shape about four inches apart, “which is filling enough for me, but maybe not for you?”

  He eyed my hands doubtfully. “Get me two. I’m in no way, shape, or form a light eater.”

  Bannen might technically be an adult but obviously he was not fully grown yet. Most men weren’t until their early twenties. He probably still ate like a starving teenager. I rather expected as much. Turning my head I called to Rob, “Three pans, meat lovers!”

  “Coming up!” Rob called back, not that I saw hide nor hair of him.

  He really did think this was a date, didn’t he? I thought about disillusioning him but that would mean explaining things. And I’d rather not.

  “You were going to explain how your magic is different,” Bannen prompted.

  Resigned, I almost launched into a description I’d given hundr
eds of times through the years. Then thought better of it. I had no idea what his experience was with magic. “Do you know how magic works?”

  “Not really,” he admitted with a frank shrug. “I’ve seen its effect, as I’ve fought alongside mages often over the years, and I’m very familiar with healing magic, but the breakdown of how it works? No clue.”

  Better start there, then. “Magic depends upon designs. Schematics, if you will. Every spell you see has multiple layers of a design involved, where it has designated what elements are involved, the level of power it should have, and instructions on what this spell should do. Make sense?”

  “So for instance, if I wanted to make a book, then my spell would say, ‘take this paper, this ink, this leather, this glue, this string, put it together in this design, with these words.’ And then once the magic is activated, you’d have a book?”

  That was probably one of the best analogies I’d heard yet. Bannen looked like a fighter to me, but was there an intelligent mind behind those dark eyes? “Yes, precisely.”

  “Huh. I think I understand. Go on.”

  “My eyes are very good; I can see at a glance the whole schematic for any object or spell,” I tapped a finger to the corner of my right eye, “but my magic isn’t good with creation. It likes to deconstruct things instead. So, for instance,” I picked up a paper napkin off my plate, “I can look at this napkin and see how it was formed. I can also choose to remove a single element out of it.” I slowly spoke the spell invocation for what I wanted, removing the binding element of the paper, which promptly sent it into a puff of powdered fiber.

  Bannen swore in his native tongue and leaned forward for a better look, eyes wide.