Page 45 of Reluctant Wizard

“I keep telling you. I’m not likely to ever be Lady Elal.”

“But you’ll still be you: brilliant, powerful, at the heart of everything happening. You’re at the center of this brewing storm.”

How odd that he used those exact words. The echo penetrated her cloud of sadness and hurt. “Why do you say that, put exactly that way?”

“No reason in particular. Just an observation. Why?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him to find him watching her with that keen intelligence. Might as well tell him everything, whether or not he disliked her sharp tongue. Or maybe because he did dislike that about her. What did she have to lose if hearing this annoyed him further? Wiping her hands, she leaned on the opposite counter. “House Hanneil wasn’t the only one to send a messenger, and a warning.”

His tension sharpened in the air between them, the slice of his inquisitive magic palpable. Not invasive—he wouldn’t do that to her—but the sense of him wanting, needing to know was clear. “Tell me,” he said shortly.

This part would take careful dancing, as she still had no intention of telling him about her ability to sever the wizard–familiar bond, nor about murdering her own mother. She would never speak to anyone about that. The fewer people who knew the better. Besides, she didn’t think she could bear the look in Cillian’s eyes if she told him the monstrous truth about herself.

“A House Ariel wizard visited me and warned me that they had information that they had received word of… tampering with the wizard–familiar bond.”

Cillian waited, clearly restraining a dozen questions—and probably a tart criticism for her withholding that information until then. He raised his brows when she didn’t say more. “Did this messenger have anything else to impart?”

“Nothing of import. She didn’t say why she’d come to me, except to issue vague threats related to Iliana being at House Phel and strongly implying that someone there knew about the bond-severing.”

“Is it true—have there been wizard–familiar bonds severed?” Cillian asked, catching and holding her gaze.

“Yes.” She sighed, not seeing a way around this. “Two: between Maman and Papa, and between Healer Asa and his familiar Laryn.”

He whistled, long and low, considering. “Does someone there know about it?”

Alise shrugged, turning away. “I can’t imagine who. She seemed to think that, because the bond was severed between Maman and Papa, I would know something about it. But obviously, I don’t.”

“Is that obvious?” he asked quietly.

“What would I know?” She did her best to sound innocently perplexed. “I haven’t graduated yet, so I don’t have the information on how the bonding enchantment is created in the first place. Wait, do you know?”

Cillian cocked his head and raised his brows, indicating that he did, but that he couldn’t speak of it due to the geas that accompanied the information. “What do you know about how the bond was severed between your parents?” he asked. “And between Asa and Laryn for that matter. It can’t be coincidence that both unprecedented severings occurred at House Phel.”

She should have known the inquisitive, observant librarian wouldn’t have missed that pattern. They’d been careless. And she should never have taken him to House Phel in the first place. If she’d left him by the side of the road to House Harahel, so many complications would have been avoided. She also wouldn’t be there at that moment, her body lax and sore from his lovemaking. So difficult to balance the positives and negatives.

“I really don’t know anything. Who could perform such a trick? I didn’t even know it was possible.”

“You’re deflecting. I can see it in your face and smell it in your magic. You can trust me, Alise. You have to know I wouldn’t harm anyone you love, which includes all of House Phel.”

With palpable relief, she realized he didn’t suspect her. “You think it was Gabriel?”

He shrugged thoughtfully. “The evidence certainly adds up.” He ticked the points off on his fingers. “Gabriel Phel never attended Convocation Academy, which gives him a rather enviable intellectual freedom when considering what can and can’t be done with wizardry. He therefore never graduated, which means he has a flexible concept of the wizard–familiar bond.”

In lieu of speaking words he could not, Cillian raised his brows significantly. “Lord Phel is also an idealist, an iconoclast who openly struggles with the entire system of wizard–familiar bonding and the second-class citizenship the practice confers upon familiars. Not that I disagree. He’s significantly invested in Nic’s happiness and would love to kill your father. He’d have been motivated to please his wife and to injure Elal. Finally, his combination of moon and water magic hasn’t been seen in the Convocation since the previous iteration of House Phel collapsed, metaphorically and literally, so we don’t know what kind of capability it confers.”

He frowned, looking perplexed, speaking more slowly as he thought it through. “The flaw in this logic is there’s no reason to believe the wizard–familiar bond is created by Gabriel Phel’s brand of magic and every reason to assume it’s a subset of psychic wizardry.” Cillian considered her, his agile mind perceiving far too much. “Which would explain House Ariel’s concern, given that historical records hint that their techniques in psychically binding animals to their purposes may have contributed to the early experiments that resulted in the implementation of wizard–familiar bonding. It would also explain Hanneil and Uriel’s interest in you.”

“In me?” she nearly squeaked. “I don’t follow.”

“I think you do. I think you follow far too well.” He hopped off the counter in a surprisingly quick and sinuous move, caging her against the counter she’d unwisely trapped herself against. “Look at me, Alise,” he commanded softly, steel beneath the velvet, waiting until she reluctantly complied. He framed her face in his hands. “No lies. No evasions. Tell me what happened. You owe me the truth.”

“I owe you nothing,” she hissed, trying to wrench her face from his hands.

He held on, strength in his determination. Alise could have repelled him easily, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. As awful as him discovering the monstrous truth would be, some part of her wept in relief at not having to carry it alone any longer.

“Allow me to rephrase,” he said. “This is a secret so potent it could destroy you and I’m not going to stand by and allow that to happen. This, I think, is at the heart of what’s been eating at you. I’ve watched you work your wizardry, felt the ebb and flow of your magic as you manipulated those spirit bonds in the archives. You figured out how to sever the wizard–familiar bond, didn’t you? You are the one who did it.”

Abruptly she burst into tears, the sobs wrenching out of her in agonizing convulsions of grief. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

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