Chapter 4
At least Han could make Iliana laugh, even when he was dying inside.
Fortunately long training with his rank-obsessed family allowed him to keep a cheerful smile pasted to his face as he and Iliana walked through the long gallery leading to the dining hall.
They walked without speaking, both of them concentrating on the mental disciplines that would disguise their recent activities from the thought-seekers.
Han established a running mental contemplation of dinner options—easy, as he was ravenously hungry—then let himself think about his next steps.
He wasn’t going to let Iliana’s summary rejection slow him down.
She’d kissed him back, with fervor that still had his entire body throbbing with longing.
She might’ve kicked away the heart he’d laid at her feet with distressing vigor, but he also knew she was afraid. And exhausted.
He always did have terrible timing. Fortunately he had persistence.
If he kept trying, eventually he’d hit the right timing through sheer repetition.
The thought cheered him, as did the gaily decorated gallery they walked through.
That was the power of an excellent kiss with the person you loved.
His gloominess from earlier in the day, the frustration he’d felt in the Tower of Testing, the sullen fury at his mother’s lectures—all of that had evaporated in the heat of kissing Iliana at last, leaving giddiness behind.
The twinkling lights and sparkling decorations seemed to echo the bubbling joy in his heart.
House Elal had developed the new line of festival lights in recent years.
Created in conjunction with House El-Adrel, the cunning magical artifacts radiated bright light from the tiny fire elementals powering them, available in all sorts of colors.
Naturally, the Convocation Academy had selected crimson and silver, academy colors, and those lights predominated, brightening the otherwise shadowy arcade.
Banners of the twelve High Houses lined the hall, too, and at each a cluster of lights twinkled in those house colors.
Iliana’s House Ariel glittered with the deeper tones of earth, sea, and sky, their banner showing the house crest, a similar triad reflecting animals of the ground, water, and air.
The House Hanneil banner glittered with red and black lights, the crest of a stylized human head radiating rays in the same colors.
If Han did manifest as a wizard, he’d fight taking a contract with House Hanneil, no matter what his parents wanted.
He’d had enough of thought-seeking and oracle heads.
Surely some other house could make use of his magical potential in psychic magic.
After the High Houses came the second tier houses, then the lower-ranking houses, their banners clustering thick on the walls.
Han turned his face away from his own house banner, being thoroughly unhappy with the lot of them at the moment, and his gaze snagged on a new banner.
Silver on deep blue, a full moon rose over an argent sea, and the lights clustered at the top, all in white and palest silver-blue.
“Look.” He nudged Iliana. “A new house banner. I don’t recognize the crest though.”
She followed his gaze. “House Phel,” she murmured in surprise.
“Aha!” He studied the crest with greater interest. House Phel had been defunct for so long that he’d never seen their symbol before.
“If you studied your house crests,” she noted primly, “you’d have known that.”
“I memorized all the active houses,” he protested. “Why waste brain space on all the defunct ones?”
“For instances like this,” she retorted.
“Still, I’m surprised they hung the House Phel banner. Isn’t their reinstatement probationary?”
“Yes, but they were a powerful High House for centuries before demotion.”
“You mean before House Phel fell?”
She slid him a small smile. “Yes, I’ve heard the joke. Probationary or not, House Phel is once again a house, even if whether they’ll ascend to being a High House again is in question. Their banner should be hung.”
“For however long that lasts. Aren’t they a house of one wizard?”
“One is all it takes, especially if that wizard is as powerful as Gabriel Phel.”
“Off the charts MP scores are all well and good,” Han scoffed, well aware he was repeating his mother’s words, though in this case, he agreed with the arrogant wizard, “but without academy training, he can’t do much with his magic.
He doesn’t have a familiar either, so his workings will be limited. ”
“I wonder,” Iliana murmured, but before he could ask what she meant, they passed under the sparkling and beribboned garlands outlining the big archway and entered the dining hall.
Sabrina Hanneil and her cohort of wizard friends from the best families lingered at the best table near the huge fireplace.
Their avid gazes immediately landed on Han, their voices rising in excited speculation.
He didn’t at all like that Iliana, for all her denials and bravado, palpably shrunk beside him, slowing her steps so she was partially concealed by his frame, her warm and friendly magic taking on a brittle edge.
He steered Iliana to a table farther away from that venomous group, and also conveniently close to the kitchens.
Flagging down one of the younger students who worked as a server, he held up two fingers to summon their dinners, and the boy ran off to comply.
They were late, with most of the dining hall empty except for a few groups lingering over wine and conversation like Sabrina’s.
Except he felt sure Sabrina had been lying in wait for them.
The wizard girl would know of the instructions for the drained familiars to eat heartily.
She’d probably been watching for Iliana all evening, with the bonus of counting on Han being with her.
Sabrina would want to be the first to welcome him into the wizard circles—or taunt him for being relegated to being a familiar.
Sure enough, the boy had barely brought their wine, mulled with spices tonight for the beginning days of the celebration, when Sabrina swanned up to the table.
Iliana stared stonily into her wine, clearly not in any mood to fake pleasantries, so Han stepped into the social gap, producing his brightest, most insincere smile.
“Wizard Hanneil,” he said formally, “did you require something? Perhaps your table ran out of wine and they sent you to fetch it.”
Sabrina’s otherwise pretty mouth thinned with ugly anger at his insult, especially since she couldn’t retort that she’d never fetch her own wine (true) without sounding like the insufferable elitist she was.
“What did the oracle say, Han—is a celebrational hair-cutting in order? Everyone is agog to hear your news.”
“There is no news, Sabrina darling,” he replied silkily. “I surely hope you didn’t lose your bet by limiting the outcome to today.”
By the furious set of her jaw, she had indeed done exactly that. For the first time that day, Han was delighted that the oracle had been unable to categorize him. It was worth it just to see Sabrina stew.
“How can you be still uncategorized?” she demanded. “This is getting ridiculous.”
“Funny, my mother said the same thing. Have you two been chatting?”
“You are so immature,” she spat. “No wonder your brain is lagging back with the little kids.”
He raised his brows, making an astonished face. “Also what my mother said!” Squinting at her, he poked her arm. “Are you my mother wearing an illusion?”
Sabrina yanked her arm out of reach, composing herself.
“Best speak to me with more care. You know what they say—being a familiar is the default. If you don’t manifest as a wizard, and soon, they’ll declare you a familiar just to get you through the advanced classes and out of here.
It just doesn’t look good to have thirty-year old students hanging around. ”
“And yet they tolerate you,” he drawled.
If Sabrina’s magic manifested as fire, smoke would be pouring out of her nose at that moment. “I am only seventeen,” she declared. “I don’t blame you for being jealous, since I’m also about to graduate as a full wizard, the youngest wizard in House Hanneil.”
“Tomorrow?” he asked with chipper hopefulness. “Please say it’s tomorrow. Buh-bye.”
“You think you’re so funny and charming.
” She lifted her nose haughtily. “But it’s all a cover for what you are: terrified.
And when they finally give up hope on the golden son and declare you a pitiful, impotent familiar, I’m going to bond you.
You will be my docile little pet, serving my every whim.
I’ve already got the collar picked out.”
“There’s no shame in being a familiar,” he returned evenly, “but you’re wrong if you think I’ll ever be yours. My family would never bond me to a Hanneil.”
“Not unless you begged them,” she replied thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chin.
“Which I would never do.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Her gaze and her hand dropped to Iliana’s fiery curls, and Sabrina combed her fingers through, as if she were petting a cat, and Iliana shuddered.
Her magic, which had been rebounding nicely, grew thin as she withdrew into herself.
“What if it came down to a choice? Sweet Iliana here is already available, an unbonded familiar who is undoubtedly compatible. Her family would happily give her to me for a connection to House Hanneil.”
“Take your hands off her.”
“So protective.” Sabrina smiled triumphantly, Han bitterly regretting that he chomped so eagerly on her obvious bait. “I’m betting you’d anything to protect little Iliana here, even to the point of offering yourself to be my familiar if it would save her.”