Page 38 of Twisted Magic

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered to Seliah as they took up a position on one side of the cleared area.

“Me?” She was going for innocent, apparently, nearly cooing the word. “You’re the wizard. I’m just the fire beneath your kettle.”

“This is not a good time to needle me.”

“Just keeping you at a nice boil,” she replied. “Bogdan is a poser. You’ve got this. Remember that the house likes you and wants you for Lord El-Adrel.”

“Remember that the house is fickle and follows her own agenda.” But he took Seliah’s hand, interlacing their fingers, grateful for her presence beyond the magic she shared so generously. “And you’re the one she’s put herself out for, so do try to be helpful, if it’s in you.”

“I’ll consider it,” she replied loftily, but squeezed his hand in solidarity.

“As challenger, I’ll go first,” Bogdan announced, neatly snagging that advantage. “The first modification shall be cosmetic.”

Now Jadren would have to go second and Bogdan would enjoy the additional benefit of naming the third challenge. Oh joy.

“I shall change the color of the tile floor.” Bogdan, with Helen behind him, hands on his shoulders, made a grand gesture. He was an excellent artificer, and his magic tinked out like clockwork, rippling through the polished metal of the floor, changing it to shimmering gold with embossed lighting bolts in a deeper shade. The assembly politely applauded.

“Does that count?” Seliah hissed. “All he did was change the floor color himself. The house didn’t have to help at all.”

“Semantics,” Jadren answered quietly. “Nobody besides you believes the house is anything but a very large and complex enchanted artifact to be adjusted at will.”

“You do,” she retorted. “And you might consider asking her, instead of enforcing your wizardly will.”

“Are we talking about the house or you?” he retorted.

“Same and same. Now, do something she’ll like.”

Something the house would like? He had no idea what a house did or didn’t like. Considering, he thought back to the changes he’d seen the house make spontaneously over his lifetime. Besides decorating Seliah’s apartments to please her, he couldn’t think of a… Aha. Forming the image in his mind, giving it the clarity Liat had taught, he suggested the modification to the house, offering his and Seliah’s combined magic to fuel the change.

It felt very odd, not unlike having Vale pluck a proffered bit of apple from his palm, the touch both delicate and hinting at a strength that could chomp off his fingers if it chose. He was so focused on keeping his intention clear, on wooing the house the same way he’d pet Seliah into purring pleasure, that he didn’t note the alteration until the assembly made a sound of surprise, followed by a scattering of less enthusiastic applause. Jadren saw that the house had taken his idea and run with it, changing every other tile to be silver, embossed with moons at successive phases, surrounded by stylized water waves. Alternating with Bogdan’s glittering lightning bolts, the effect created an illusion of motion, the moons seeming to rise and set across the room with stately grace, spinning through their phases.

“Amazing,” Seliah breathed.

“Are you making a point, brother?” Bogdan demanded, in quite a different tone. “Is House El-Adrel to be diluted by association with House Fell? This is what we may anticipate if you are Lord. Our ancestors weep.”

“My turn to propose the next challenge,” Jadren said, rather than deigning to stoop to an exchange of insults and retorts. His mind raced, grasping for something he could do that Bogdan couldn’t. What would be the next level from cosmetic, that wouldn’t escalate too much?

“Substantive extrusion of furnishings,” he declared. After all, he’d had the house help him with disposing of fouled bedding before, providing him with fresh after one of his battered reprieves from his late-mother’s depraved experiments. Oh, and after the time Seliah shot him with an arrow. “There should be two chairs—one for Lady El-Adrel as well as myself, and something more our style.”

Forming the image in his mind, he practically beseeched the house to behave, gratified when a rumbling sound alerted him to the change behind them. Drawing Seliah to the side to see, he watched as the raised dais slowly sucked down the former Lady El-Adrel’s thronelike chair. For a long moment, nothing more happened. It stretched out long enough for Bogdan to snicker.

“Oops,” he called. “Did you run out of magic already? Because—”

He broke off as the dais stirred, swirling like a whirlpool before extruding two chairs. They were black, as Jadren had envisioned, and stylized—quite a bit more than he’d wanted—with pink upholstery, which was decidedly not what he’d asked for.

“Very funny,” he muttered to the house, receiving a sense of scintillating laughter. At least he hadn’t declared his exact intentions, so couldn’t be held accountable for failing to miss his mark.

“Pink pillows for your delicate ass?” Bogdan inquired on a sneer.

Jadren lifted their joined hands, kissing Seliah’s fingertips. “The new Lady El-Adrel’s favorite color.”

“It isn’t though,” Seliah said, very quietly.

“It is now,” he returned. “Because your house-friend has a sense of humor as twisted and inappropriate as yours, which I lay entirely at your feet.”

“Are you serious about making me Lady El-Adrel?” she asked. Bogdan was scowling, apparently considering his next move.

Jadren regarded her with some surprise. “Isn’t that what you want?”

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