“Still, I’m surprised they hung the House Phel banner. Isn’t their reinstatement probationary?”
“Yes, but they were a powerful High House for centuries before demotion.”
“You mean before House Phelfell?”
She slid him a small smile. “Yes, I’ve heard the joke. Probationary or not, House Phelisonce again a house, even if whether they’ll ascend to being a High House again is in question. Their banner should be hung.”
“For however long that lasts. Aren’t they a house of one wizard?”
“One is all it takes, especially if that wizard is as powerful as Gabriel Phel.”
“Off the charts MP scores are all well and good,” Han scoffed, well aware he was repeating his mother’s words, though in this case, he agreed with the arrogant wizard, “but without academy training, he can’t do much with his magic. He doesn’t have a familiar either, so his workings will be limited.”
“I wonder,” Iliana murmured, but before he could ask what she meant, they passed under the sparkling and beribboned garlands outlining the big archway and entered the dining hall. Sabrina Hanneil and her cohort of wizard friends from the best families lingered at the best table near the huge fireplace. Their avid gazes immediately landed on Han, their voices rising in excited speculation. He didn’t at all like that Iliana, for all her denials and bravado, palpably shrunk beside him, slowing her steps so she was partially concealed by his frame, her warm and friendly magic taking on a brittle edge.
He steered Iliana to a table farther away from that venomous group, and also conveniently close to the kitchens. Flagging down one of the younger students who worked as a server, he held up two fingers to summon their dinners, and the boy ran off to comply. They were late, with most of the dining hall empty except for a few groups lingering over wine and conversation like Sabrina’s.
Except he felt sure Sabrina had been lying in wait for them. The wizard girl would know of the instructions for the drained familiars to eat heartily. She’d probably been watching for Iliana all evening, with the bonus of counting on Han being with her. Sabrina would want to be the first to welcome him into the wizard circles—or taunt him for being relegated to being a familiar.
Sure enough, the boy had barely brought their wine, mulled with spices tonight for the beginning days of the celebration, when Sabrina swanned up to the table. Iliana stared stonily into her wine, clearly not in any mood to fake pleasantries, so Han stepped into the social gap, producing his brightest, most insincere smile. “Wizard Hanneil,” he said formally, “did you require something? Perhaps your table ran out of wine and they sent you to fetch it.”
Sabrina’s otherwise pretty mouth thinned with ugly anger at his insult, especially since she couldn’t retort that she’d never fetch her own wine (true) without sounding like the insufferable elitist she was. “What did the oracle say, Han—is a celebrational hair-cutting in order? Everyone is agog to hear your news.”
“There is no news, Sabrina darling,” he replied silkily. “I surely hope you didn’t lose your bet by limiting the outcome to today.”
By the furious set of her jaw, she had indeed done exactly that. For the first time that day, Han was delighted that the oracle had been unable to categorize him. It was worth it just to see Sabrina stew.
“How can you bestilluncategorized?” she demanded. “This is getting ridiculous.”
“Funny, my mother said the same thing. Have you two been chatting?”
“You are so immature,” she spat. “No wonder your brain is lagging back with the little kids.”
He raised his brows, making an astonished face. “Also what my mother said!” Squinting at her, he poked her arm. “Are you my mother wearing an illusion?”
Sabrina yanked her arm out of reach, composing herself. “Best speak to me with more care. You know what they say—being a familiar is the default. If you don’t manifest as a wizard, and soon, they’ll declare you a familiar just to get you through the advanced classes and out of here. It just doesn’t look good to have thirty-year old students hanging around.”
“And yet they tolerate you,” he drawled.
If Sabrina’s magic manifested as fire, smoke would be pouring out of her nose at that moment. “Iam only seventeen,” she declared. “I don’t blame you for being jealous, since I’m also about to graduate as a full wizard, the youngest wizard in House Hanneil.”
“Tomorrow?” he asked with chipper hopefulness. “Please say it’s tomorrow. Buh-bye.”
“You think you’re so funny and charming.” She lifted her nose haughtily. “But it’s all a cover for what you are: terrified. And when they finally give up hope on the golden son and declare you a pitiful, impotent familiar, I’m going to bond you. You will be my docile little pet, serving my every whim. I’ve already got the collar picked out.”
“There’s no shame in being a familiar,” he returned evenly, “but you’re wrong if you think I’ll ever be yours. My family would never bond me to a Hanneil.”
“Not unless you begged them,” she replied thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chin.
“Which I would never do.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Her gaze and her hand dropped to Iliana’s fiery curls, and Sabrina combed her fingers through, as if she were petting a cat, and Iliana shuddered. Her magic, which had been rebounding nicely, grew thin as she withdrew into herself. “What if it came down to a choice? Sweet Iliana here is already available, an unbonded familiar who is undoubtedly compatible. Her family would happily give her to me for a connection to House Hanneil.”
“Take your hands off her.”
“So protective.” Sabrina smiled triumphantly, Han bitterly regretting that he chomped so eagerly on her obvious bait. “I’m betting you’d do anything to protect little Iliana here, even to the point of offering yourself to be my familiar if it would save her.”
Iliana moved, ducking out of Sabrina’s grip with athletic grace. “You’re overstepping, Wizard Hanneil,” Iliana said with steely calm. “Unless the Convocation has appointed you consultant to the Advisory Council for Wizard-Familiar Relations?”
