A shadow passed over his face and she was sorry she’d reminded him. Professor Tracy pointed. “Go, M. Haniel. Don’t make me write you up.” As Iliana passed her professor into the classroom, he stopped her. “Tread carefully,” he said in a voice too low for anyone to overhear. “I thought you understood my warning yesterday. You have very few rights in a situation like this.”
“Han is my friend,” she replied just as quietly, keeping her expression and tone as neutral as possible. “I’m just trying to be supportive.”
“Mm hmm. Take your seat.”
As Iliana did, exchanging quick smiles with a few friends, Professor Tracy took his place at the front of the room. “I think today we should review the Rights of Familiars as enumerated by Convocation law,” he declared.
“That won’t take long,” someone quipped, and they all laughed, except Iliana.
Professor Tracy’s gaze rested meaningfully on her. “It’s no laughing matter,” he said, dipping his chin at Iliana. “The rights of familiars are indeed few, so it’s important that you all know what they are.” He held up a hand at the general eyerolling. “Yes, I know you all have the admittedly short list memorized, but how many of you have had a meaningful discussion about their boundaries and implications?”
He scanned the room and nodded to himself. “I thought as much. All of you are about to graduate, or you wouldn’t be in Familiar Senior Praxis. The intent of this course is to bridge the gap between theory and the reality of practical application. You’ve spent the last however many years learning how to be a familiar and you stand on the brink of actually living your lives as one. This may be your last opportunity to ask questions of other familiars, without wizards interfering.”
He lapsed meaningfully. The implications were clear, as they all knew wizards tended to be self-absorbed, at best, and primarily concerned with furthering their own goals. The laws that protected familiars constrained how wizards could use—and abuse—their familiars, which was a restraint they observed, but grudgingly. And not many familiars were granted the freedom to consort with other familiars, especially unsupervised.
“That’s right,” he said, as if someone had commented. “Youmustbe aware of your rights and how they work in the real world, as you may be the only one advocating for yourself. First, you have the right not to be killed or injured so substantially that you cannot perform your work.”
“Lucky us,” someone muttered, and Professor Tracy pinned them with a look full of empathy, not reproving at all, despite the interruption.
“Let’s speak frankly,” he agreed. “We all know that this right, your first and most basic right, only goes so far. A wizard is not allowed to kill, maim, or neglect you so badly that you cannot perform as a familiar. Please note that no one else is allowed to harm you, either. You are a valuable resource, and therein lies your greatest safety. If anyone besides your bonded wizard—or agency if you end up working in that capacity—threatens you in any way, appeal to your wizard or agency. They will be strongly invested in protecting you.”
“And if it’s your own wizard threatening you?” someone asked drily.
Professor Tracy nodded in acknowledgment. “It’s a problem. I won’t sugar coat things here. You all live in the Convocation and you’ve heard the stories. It’s against the law for your wizard to kill or injure you beyond repair, but wizards are also not accustomed to being told they can’t do something. Particularly in the rush of a major incantation, or a pitched fight, they can forget themselves. I understand in Professor Angela’s practicum yesterday, you all practiced with being drained nearly dry. How was that experience?”
Nauseating. Exhausting. Horrifyingly awful.But Iliana didn’t say any of that aloud.
“It sucked,” someone in the back bit out, and they all laughed, though more with nerves than humor.
“Succinct and accurate,” Professor Tracy agreed with a rueful grimace. “Now imagine being magic-drained to the point of death. A familiar’s magic arises from their inherent life force. Your personal vitality is intrinsically tied to your magic. If you are drained too far, your body can’t recover, and youwilldie.” He waited, letting them consider the implications. “The wizard would be held accountable by the Convocation—”
“As much as they ever are,” someone muttered bitterly.
“As much as they ever are,” Professor Tracy agreed, “though I advise you not to express those sentiments outside of this room. The point being, if that happens, the familiar is still dead. They can note in your obituary that you were wrongfully killed, your family might receive compensation, but you won’t be around to enjoy the vindication.”
“So what are we supposed to do?” Iliana burst out before she thought better of it. “We can’t tell a wizard no.”
“Youcan,” Professor Tracy replied with emphasis. “And you should. That’s what you all need to remember. Invoke your rights. Remind them. The law exists for a reason and you are all citizens of the Convocation—”
“Second-class citizens,” another student inserted.
Professor Tracy ignored that one, plowing on. “And as citizens of the Convocation, you are protected by the law. Stand up to your wizard where the law stands behind you.”
He caught and held Iliana’s gaze, raising his brows as if checking that he’d answered her question. She nodded glumly, not bothering to voice her greatest fear.What if you’re in love with your wizard and don’t have it in you to tell him no?Han’s beautiful face swam before her eyes, the earnest plea in their melting blue affecting her even now.
I’m in love with you, Iliana…I’m going to convince you of the truth of that.Though Han would never hurt her… would he?
The understanding hit her with a sharp pang, of why Nic Elal had chosen the Betrothal Trials. It was the perfect way to ensure you’d hate the wizard who bonded you. As always, Nic was way ahead of the rest of them.Let’s face it, who’s going to sign up to try for you?Sabrina’s words echoed in her mind. It was true: Iliana didn’t have high enough MP scores to recommend her. Even if she could bear to subject herself to the barbarity of the trials, she be rejected as a bad candidate.
A familiar at a neighboring desk put up her hand, a tentative halfway into the air. When the professor called on her, she glanced guiltily around the room, before asking her question in a lowered voice. “Is it true that some familiars have… emigrated from the Convocation to escape service?”
“You mean ‘escaped,’” a familiar in the back corrected.
Professor Tracy made a cutting motion with his hand. “I’ll address this once, because I did invite you to ask questions, but once only. And I strongly advise you don’t discuss this with anyone, ever. It’s a good point that ‘emigrated’ is a poor word because there is no legal recourse for a familiar to leave Convocation lands. That isnotone of your rights. If any of you attempt to leave, I promise you will be stopped. Don’t try it.” He sounded grimmer than ever, with a bitter grief that made Iliana wonder if he had personal experience.
“But there are rumors that—” someone else began to say.
“Rumors only,” Professor Tracy interrupted. “I know Convocation Academy runs on rumor like a sleigh runs on air elemental power.” He essayed a smile, though it came across a bit sick and weak. “Believe me, I’ve heard all the same stories. They are heavily fictionalized tales born of wishful thinking. Don’t stake your life on them, because that’s exactly what you’d be doing.”
