Page 36 of Twisted Magic

“She answered you this time,” Selly pointed out. “You no longer have your back against the wall.”

“At least not literally. The metaphorical situation hasn’t changed much.”

“Aww, is that any way for my blood-spattered monster to talk? How about a violent roar of malevolent rage to clear your system?”

“You’re really not funny,” he growled, and she smiled secretly, pleased with herself.

They turned to face the assembly, all of them down on one knee, faces turned upward, a sea of skin, hair, and eye color, punctuated by impenetrable wizard-black gazes. Jadren let them stew, the seething magics of all varieties spiking with emotion, various expressions of horror, fear, and titillation running like waves through the crowd. Many of them eyed Selly with curiosity-piqued interest.

Jadren raised one hand high, as if commanding silence, though no one had dared speak above a murmur. “Behold,” he said in a carrying voice. “I bear on my hands the blood of Katica El-Adrel, the one who birthed me. In the wake of her death, as she passed without naming an heir, I claim her place as head of this house.”

Beautifully done. Selly was hard pressed not to wiggle with glee, but she managed to preserve a serious mien.

“Are there any who would challenge me on this?” Jadren continued, flipping her glee to annoyance. It was one thing if he had to fight off challengers, but no need to issue an invitation. Still, no one moved or spoke. In fact, many of those glittering black gazes lowered nervously. It seemed they might get away with it being easy.

Silly her.

A man stood, bringing a woman with him, and stepped into the aisle, posing there a moment. Selly would’ve known him for one of Katica’s get from the dramatic presentation alone, even without the physical resemblance. Unlike Jadren and the late, unlamented Ozana, this man didn’t have Fyrdo’s coloring. Instead, he took after their mother, with long, shining black hair, golden-brown skin, and a wizard’s glittering dark gaze. He didn’t wear the house colors, nor any lightning bolt emblems that Selly could make out. Instead he’d dressed in a rich-looking burgundy silk suit, so meticulously tailored to his form that Selly knew it must be of Ophiel make.

“Your brother?” she asked, very quietly.

“Bogdan, yes.”

“How many siblings do you have, anyway?”

“Fewer every day.”

He wasn’t wrong, but that was hardly an informative answer. But Selly let it go. Bogdan and his companion had drawn too close for even sotto voce conversation.

The woman following after Bogdan wore a gown that matched his, also gorgeous, clearly cut from the same cloth. Her bronze hair flowed well past her shoulders in well-groomed waves, matching her skin. Obviously his familiar, she must have bonded to him some years ago, for her hair to have grown in so much since the ceremony. She carried herself with pride of place, still a submissive step behind the tall, graceful man, keeping physical contact with a hand on his arm, which meant they were prepared to use magic.

Selly braced herself, readying her own magic, hoping that they had enough juice for a confrontation. Maybe they should have waited. Jadren, sensing her unease, patted her hand soothingly. Right. Worrying helped nothing.

The pair stopped a respectful distance below the dais where Jadren and Selly stood before the lone chair. “Jadren,” Bogdan said, no more inflection in his voice than if he’d correctly identified a type of apple.

“Bogdan,” Jadren replied in the same tone. “Helen. I present my familiar, Seliah.”

Bogdan didn’t acknowledge Selly in any way, not even by a flick of his black gaze, which remained trained on Jadren. Helen, however, met and held Selly’s gaze, a sense of mutual recognition in her eyes. “It’s apparently incumbent upon me,” Bogdan continued, “to point out the obvious. El-Adrel is a high house of the Convocation, not a medieval fortress. We do not determine right to govern here via feudalistic violence. The rule of law is the mark of a civilized society. Are we become animals here in House El-Adrel? I think not.”

A murmur of agreement ran through the assembly, though no one rose from their humble stance. They seemed inclined to let Bogdan take the brunt of Jadren’s ire. Though Jadren didn’t feel angry to her. His magic hadn’t intensified, instead clicking evenly along, perhaps even a hint of amusement in it.

“Indeed, Bogdan,” Jadren answered coolly, “we claim to abide by rule of law in House El-Adrel, but I defy anyone here to argue that Katica El-Adrel followed any law but her own. Had she followed Convocation law, even simple courtesy, she’d have named an heir. Instead she toyed with us, encouraging her progeny to battle amongst ourselves, not unlike those animals you name us, aggravated, abused, and stoked into a frenzy to be placed in a ring at each other’s throats for her amusement.”

“Is that why you murdered Ozana?” Bogdan inquired in a polite tone that masked nothing of his intent to lay Jadren open. Selly wanted to hiss at the wizard. It would be one thing if she believed Bogdan asked out of genuine grief or concern, but nothing about him made her think he cared about anything but this verbal fencing match.

“I killed Ozana in self-defense,” Jadren answered, creating a stir with the admission. “I have witnesses to attest to that fact and the Convocation has elected not to prosecute.”

Bogdan raised his brows. “And I suppose your current claim is that you also murdered our mother in self-defense.”

“Yes,” Jadren answered tersely. “As a great many of you can attest, having been summoned to help put me down.”

A shuffling amongst the assembly, many of them casting their gazes askance.

“I don’t hold that attack against any of you,” Jadren added, raising his voice for all to hear. “You did your duty to your house and your lady wizard, as required by your contracts. I offer you all amnesty. You may continue in your current role here at El-Adrel, subject to future performance and contract reviews, naturally, without reprisal. Likewise, should you wish to depart, I will release you from your current contract without penalty.” That declaration caused a susurrus of surprise, like a sudden breeze stirring the leaves of a tree.

Bogdan aped an astonished face, making an O of his mouth, while Helen behind him narrowed her eyes in speculation, studying Selly, for some reason. “You have been too long in the company of those idiots at House Phel,” Bogdan declared. “Wearing a mundane weapon because your wizardry is too weak to fight like a proper wizard. Is this what we can expect then? The corruption of a fallen house, tainting El-Adrel’s noble tradition, with posturing over change and equality.” He sneered the words, making them empty husks.

Selly wasn’t at all bothered by the smears on the house of her birth. She was too busy assimilating Jadren’s about face. After all of his complaints about Gabriel’s idealism, comparing it to an infectious disease and proclaiming the certain dire results of it, now Jadren was offering to renegotiate contracts.

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