Page 37 of Twisted Magic

Jadren flicked her a sideways glance. “Told you that shit is infectious,” he whispered, and she had to choke back a laugh. Loud enough for everyone to hear, Jadren replied, “I have traveled and seen more of the world. I’ve spent time at other high houses and observed both the good and the bad of other customs. I propose we learn from the good examples and shun the unproductive. It’s only civilized,” he added, pinning Bogdan with a surly smile.

“You think to curry favor with our people,” Bogdan decided, sweeping a hand at the room. “But this idea is soft-headed. It’s ill-advised of you to risk the safety and security of House El-Adrel by emptying it of magical defenses. What if all the wizards leave—what then?” Bogdan countered.

“Then I’ll hire new ones,” Jadren answered softly, “though I rather doubt many will choose to leave, given the freedom to decide for themselves, along with the opportunity to labor under someone uninterested in exercising cruelty in the name of power.”

“And yet you appear before us covered in gore, admitting to more murders,” Bogdan shot back scornfully. “You truly expect anyone here to believe you won’t follow in our beloved late-maman’s footsteps?”

“Which is it, brother?” Jadren inquired silkily. “Am a threat to El-Adrel or too soft to protect her?”

Selly might have been the only person to catch Jadren’s double meaning, but the house heard, giving a happy sigh of settling wood.

“How many more will you murder in the pursuit of power?” Bogdan demanded.

“I will kill whoever I must, if they attack me or mine,” Jadren answered, his words implacable. He caressed the assembly with his gaze. “And I can kill with a thought, so bear that in mind.”

They believed him. Shock, horror, speculation—all these ran over people’s faces. But none showed any sign of doubt. Jadren clearly meant what he said, and even Selly felt a frisson of fear.

~13~

Bogdan looked unimpressed. Of course, Jadren’s older brother always had possessed the knack of seeming impervious to any and all drama raging around him. Quite the feat, given the high pitch of everything their family engaged in. Behind him, Helen studiously averted her gaze from Jadren’s, but her magic sang with potent alert. Bogdan had come prepared to duel, and with more than words. Somehow Jadren suspected Mr. Machete wouldn’t be any help, either.

“If you mean to be Lord El-Adrel,” Bogdan said, tapping a finger on his chin to appear thoughtful, all an artful pose, “then you must prove your ability.”

Jadren didn’t like this at all. Why had he let Seliah talk him into this ridiculous move? Let Bogdan be Lord El-Adrel. He could have the job for all Jadren cared.

As if reading his mind or sensing that his commitment to this course faltered, Bogdan smiled in premature triumph. “Or perhaps you can’t. With an untrained familiar on top of your own woefully inadequate education—facts of which everyone in this room is perfectly aware—perhaps you hesitate to engage me in a duel.” He made a moue of disappointment borrowed directly from their late-mother. “Of course, that would imply you’re not at all strong enough to protect this house. A one-trick pony, it seems.”

Oh, Jadren would just love to red-mist his arrogant brother. But he was also feeling weary of death, of orphaning familiars. He had no affection for Helen, but he also bore her no ill will, and she was devoted to her wizard. He’d developed a soft spot for familiars, it seemed. “I’m not interested in killing you, Bogdan,” he found himself saying.

“Afraid you can’t?” Bogdan asked, pouncing with glee.

“Oh, I know I can. I will, if you force me to. But you’re an excellent wizard. You and Helen are a skilled team and House El-Adrel is fortunate to count you both as assets. Why would I want to lose you over nothing?”

“I hardly count this contest as nothing, brother,” Bogdan grumbled, though he didn’t quite conceal his startled pleasure at the unexpected compliment. “I won’t meekly step aside to allow you to claim the rank and position that should be mine by right of birth.”

He wasn’t wrong. In any normal family or house, Bogdan would have been their mother’s heir. He was nearly her equal in MP scores, a practiced and skillful wizard, a decent politician, and not obsessed with controlling others. He’d likely make a decent house head. Except that Bogdan would want to continue the experimentation in the name of honoring their late-mother’s legacy and adding to the El-Adrel product line. Bogdan was greedy, loving wealth a bit too much, which wouldn’t serve their house or people as they deserved.

“My lord wizard,” Seliah said, loudly enough for her voice to carry. She was trying to sound meek, which she did not do well. “I understand the El-Adrel tradition is that the head of the house must also head the house itself.” She swept a hand at their environs. “Perhaps a test of control between you and Wizard Bogdan could decide the matter.”

Jadren risked taking his eyes off Bogdan and turned to give her an incredulous look. Seliah beamed back at him, full of confidence, her close-lipped smile smug. The bitch. He narrowed his eyes at her and she fluttered her lashes. Rubbing a hand over his forehead, which had begun to throb, only to have dried blood flake away, he wondered what he’d done that he’d ended up in this position.

“Done,” Bogdan declared, seizing the opportunity with a bit too much alacrity, especially considering that a mere familiar with no rank (yet) had suggested the idea. “How shall we—”

“We’ll do it now,” Jadren interrupted, still giving Seliah the stink-eye, which seemed to bounce off her sincere and shining faith in him. While he’d always been fortunate that the house didn’t attack him as she did others, and arguably had protected him more than once, saliently against Ozana when they were children, he didn’t kid himself that he knew how to make the house do anything. As he’d often told Seliah, the house did as it liked. Even including trying to squeeze him to death not all that long ago. “What do you propose?” he asked Bogdan, giving him the courtesy of choosing his weapon, so to speak.

“Three modifications to the house,” Bogdan replied, his tone easy, but his mind clearly racing to set terms most advantageous to himself. “Increasing level of difficulty, wizard must detail the intended result before manifesting it. No claiming of accidental results. Two out of three wins.”

“And in the event of a tie?”

Bogdan bared his teeth in an anticipatory grin. “Sudden death.”

“It might be more sudden than he realizes,” Seliah muttered.

Jadren managed to keep a straight face. That was his girl. “With or without familiar assistance?”

Bogdan’s assessing gaze went to Seliah. He nodded to himself. “With.” Looking pleased, Bogdan seemed to think Seliah would be a hindrance to Jadren. He had no idea.

The assembly cleared a space under the center of the atrium, people seeming relieved both to rise from their kneeling positions and to get out of the line of fire. Though Jadren spotted at least two other of their siblings in the crowd, neither stepped up to make a bid for heading the house. Knowing them for the vultures they were, Jadren suspected they were biding their time, waiting to see what pieces of carcasses might be left over for them to gobble up.

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