Chapter 4 #2
Wizard Anita swelled with smug, clearly certain Bogdan’s mistake ensured her victory.
“Lord El-Adrel is well aware that the biosciences division requires no illicit collaboration with other houses. We carry on the strong, impeccable tradition of keeping to our policy of isolation. House El-Adrel needs no help from anyone to be the best, most powerful house in the Convocation. Our magical artifacts are critical to the product lines of nearly every house, high or otherwise, in the Convocation.”
“Not to House Harahel,” Jadren pointed out.
It had been very interesting meeting Cillian Harahel at the siege of House Phel.
Because of Jadren’s previously caged existence, he hadn’t known much about many other houses, except for the ones his mother had colluded with.
Harahel notoriously used no magical artifacts from other houses.
He’d call órlaith Harahel ridiculously paranoid for the practice, except that she seemed to be simply carrying on a long tradition initiated by centuries ago ancestors.
Didn’t make the practice any less paranoid, he supposed.
Also didn’t make it a foolish strategy. Jadren himself was considering a similar interdiction for House El-Adrel, which would really have everyone shitting their pants. Or non-existent panties.
He slid his gaze to Seliah again. “Are you really not wearing panties?”
She didn’t look at him. “I told you what you need to do to find out.”
She was managing him—probably following Nic’s guidelines for care and feeding of wizards—but he didn’t mind.
In truth, he kind of loved it. Not that he’d tell Seliah that, especially since he mostly loved it because by doing so she revealed how much she cared about him, which meant more than he could express, and which left him feeling completely vulnerable.
The minx already thought she had him wrapped around her little finger. She didn’t need to know more.
Wizard Anita was huffing and puffing about House Harahel, flinging about words like “dinosaurs,” “worthless,” and other similar disparagements.
Bogdan was off to the side, apparently consulting with one of his cadres of conspirators, probably soliciting advice on how to extract foot from mouth and prevail.
The insane amount of repetition was why Jadren had stopped paying attention in the first place, especially since he’d made his decision before he even plopped his ass down for numbing-by-iron.
“You see,” he said in a normal tone of voice that nevertheless immediately silenced the proselytizing Anita, the wizard-huddle, and the growing patter of speculation from the assembly who’d gathered for the daily petitions and judgements, “the House doesn’t like the labs.”
That had everyone’s attention, the silence lengthening and intensifying into suspense. Jadren could have said so at the beginning, sure—and saved a sore ass—but he’d had his reasons. This would be fun.
“What do you mean,” Anita sputtered, “Lord El-Adrel,” she added, belatedly and with an embarrassed or angry frown. They looked a lot the same.
“I agree with my esteemed colleague,” Bogdan said. “The lab spaces have existed for generations of El-Adrel wizards. The house may be capricious at times, but it doesn’t unilaterally decide it doesn’t ‘like’ something.”
“The house doesn’t have feelings,” Anita agreed, united with her fellow wizard at least in this. “Now, if you have decided, Lord El-Adrel, that—”
“The House does have feelings,” he interrupted, well aware of the ancient structure around them listening intently.
“And she has thoughts and opinions. Shockingly enough, she dislikes the pain and suffering that emanated from the lab spaces. I might point out that this is a more human response than most of you have demonstrated.” He let his contemptuous gaze rake over the audience of attending wizards, noting who shrank from notice.
The familiars had no choice in what their wizards chose to employ them to do, and the mundanes were a mixed bag of gleeful assistants and unwilling ones.
“And yet, Lord El-Adrel,” Bogdan said smoothly, “the lab spaces have a long and storied—”
“History,” he filled in, stepping on his brother’s words. “I’m aware, having been a participant, need I remind you.”
Bogdan quailed, finally seeming to realize his precarious position.
Jadren smiled in thin satisfaction and continued.
“Yes, the House kept the lab spaces intact all this time because the previous heads of House El-Adrel forced her to do so. They kept her in a sorcerous chokehold, like a slave, and made her do their bidding whether she liked it or not. Thus she acted out in other ways… Little games with which we are all familiar.”
House El-Adrel, the literal structure, oozed as much magic as any enchanted object produced by the house.
She was basically one giant magical artifact, just one with many wings and levels, and where entire rooms and courtyards had suddenly disappeared from time to time, sometimes with people inside.
Less lethally, staircases had sometimes turned into slides or balconies sunk to the ground.
The house had long had a reputation for changeability.
Why the wizards who lived there failed to recognize the behavior as more than mechanical quirks, Jadren would never understand.
Anita cleared her throat, then bowed a little.
“Understood, Lord El-Adrel. We all here have witnessed your power and expertise as a wizard.” She beamed at him, as if they all hadn’t treated him like a magicless idiot all those years up until that point.
“I have great faith in your ability to control the house and make it—”
“Her,” he corrected, just to be a jerk. Besides, the house identified as female and she appreciated the respect. She purred in the back of his mind.
“Yes, her. And make her restore the—”
“I don’t want to though.” He put the words out there and enjoyed watching the way they fought with their indignant frustration.
Then he leaned forward, allowing his odd magic to intensify.
“Even if I wanted to force the house to do my bidding, which I don’t, I wouldn’t restore the lab space.
I’d be perfectly happy if she swallowed down the entire wing and shat it out as it deserves. ”
Everyone in the room, but Seliah—and Jadren’s father, Fyrdo, who’d known this was coming—gaped at him in stunned shock.
He hadn’t expressed that many strong opinions so far, easing his way into the boat without rocking it too much.
Well, other than the whole coup part. But he’d had enough of playing Lord Nice Wizard.
“In fact,” he continued, lounging back as if the cursed chair were actually comfortable, “I have such residual loathing for the lab spaces and everyone who voluntarily worked there, that I plan to remove each and every one of you from House El-Adrel.” He flicked his fingers and a group of wizard-soldiers loyal to him flowed in from several doorways. “Beginning with you two.”
Because this had been a formal audience—and because Jadren wasn’t a fucking idiot—no familiars had been allowed to attend with their wizards.
Bogdan and Anita weren’t helpless without the power provided by their familiars, by any stretch, but they were lazy and more than a little complacent.
They didn’t expect or act in time to counter the paralytic holds the two leads of the special forces put on Bogdan and Anita.
“You can’t remove me from House El-Adrel,” Bogdan sputtered. “I’m family.”
“And we have contracts,” Anita strangled out, fighting the grip of the paralysis.
“Oooh.” Jadren winced, making a show of looking pained. “Do you mean those contracts my mother signed? Father, if you would.”
Fyrdo produced the stack of employment contracts for the House El-Adrel minions.
Every wizard in the house had one, even so-called family.
Jadren pretended to scrutinize them, though he, his father, and several legal consultants had been through them exhaustively already.
He shook his head, pretending to look regretful, though he felt his gleeful smile leaking through.
“Oh dear. It turns out that—against all Convocation custom—my megalomaniacal, late, unlamented mother had you sign contracts with her instead of with House El-Adrel. That means every one of these contracts was null and void upon her death.”
Because it made a nice show, he tossed the stack to the marble floor where the house promptly swallowed up every page.
“Looks like you’re all starting at square one.
For those of you I have no quibble with, you have free passage to leave if you wish or you may apply to negotiate a new contract.
For those of you who I might indeed regard with, shall we say, a touch of regret—and I do believe you know who you are, but I’m happy to refresh the memories of those who might be unclear—” He allowed his gaze to linger on those who’d flinched earlier.
Some he remembered clearly; others he didn’t.
But then he’d lost more than a few memories to those dark, torturous days.
“You have two hours to clear out of House El-Adrel and begin your journey to anywhere else. You’ll be escorted to the border. ”
“Two hours?” Bogdan gasped. “I can’t possibly extract my belongings in that time. I’ve lived here all my life. And my work! My notes—”
“Will remain here, of course,” Jadren interrupted smoothly, waving a hand at the blank space of floor where the stack of contracts had fallen and been swallowed. “In the contract, as I’m sure you know. Darling Mummy was a sadist but not a fool. Work done for El-Adrel belongs to El-Adrel.”
“But you said the contracts are void,” Bogdan countered with a frustrated snarl. “Which is it?”