Page 68 of Rogue Familiar

“Liat, why are we wasting time on this?” Chaim asked wearily. “So he’s not a healing wizard. We knew that.”

“You wondered why this wizard’s—” Liat broke off with a sound of irritation. “It’s annoying not to be able to call you by a name. Is there one you can give us?”

“Jadren,” he supplied. Why not, at this point?

“Jadren,” Chaim repeated. “I’ve still never heard of you.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.”

“We asked why Jadren’s healing magic feels so odd to us,” Liat continued crisply. “Here is an opportunity to answer that question. In all my years of teaching, no wizard with healing magic that I’ve encountered, heard of, or studied in the annals, has demonstrated any difficulty healing someone. You know as well as I do that the challenge with young healing wizards, especially ones with high potentials as we sense in this one, is preventing them from unconsciously healing anyone with an injury or disease they come into proximity with.”

“Unconsciously?” Seliah asked sharply.

“Yes,” Liat answered, watching Seliah intently. “Arguably all magic works that way, though the Convocation closely monitors children with magical potentials above a certain level, so that they are trained to manage magic as a wizard in case they manifest as one. Convocation Academy contains new wizards quickly to prevent accidents. It’s very rare in this day and age for a wizard to manifest without supervision, though I understand your brother did.”

“Our family hadn’t produced anyone with magic in generations,” Seliah explained. “So, yes, when Gabriel manifested as a wizard, it was far from contained.”

Liat nodded in sympathy. “With healing wizards, the danger is primarily to themselves.” She turned that keen look on Jadren. “Have you experienced unconscious healing?”

Jadren exchanged a glance with Seliah who nodded encouragingly. This went so against the grain, but he set his teeth and plunged onward. “Yes, but not focused outward. I can only heal myself. That is, until I learned to use this device. Seliah was the first person I ever healed who wasn’t me.”

“Healing wizards are not able to heal themselves,” Chaim put in with authority.

Jadren glared at him. “Well, I’m not a healing wizard, am I? I’m something else. A monster. Abomination,” he added, flicking a look of disgust at a chagrined Maya.

“To what extent are you able to heal yourself?” Liat asked. Of them all, she seemed to be the one most interested in answers rather than judgments.

Jadren met her inquisitive gaze steadily. “Thus far, it seems to be unlimited.”

“Unlimited?” Chaim repeated. “What severity of injuries have you recovered from?”

“Death.” Jadren managed not to smirk at the man’s discomfort. For once it was fun, acknowledging his monstrous nature.

“No wonder you weren’t concerned about being executed,” Chaim muttered after a pause. “If you can’t be killed…”

“I really don’t want the Convocation to become diligent in their efforts to find a way,” Jadren replied.

“And this self-healing occurs unconsciously,” Liat mused. “Have you tried to consciously control it?”

Jadren swallowed down the acid nausea that question provoked, a cold sweat beading on his skin, his throat tightening enough to make any answer impossible. How to explain?

Seliah edged closer, brushing her fingers against the back of his hand. “It’s a long, involved, and intensely personal story,” she answered for him. “Suffice to say, yes, he’s tried for most of his life, with no success.”

“You said you were coming to us for help—is this why?”

“Yes.” Jadren gave in and took Seliah’s hand, interlacing their fingers, the contact steadying. “I don’t know how I came to be this way, or how to control it.”

“Your mother was no Refoel healing wizard or familiar who got you by Fyrdo,” Liat said her gaze sharp.

“No, my mother is alive and well and not of Refoel,” he admitted. “She’s Katica, Lady El-Adrel herself.”

~19~

It took some doing to calm the chaos that news elicited. Rather shocking, Jadren reflected, how much noise three supposedly serene healers could make.

Chaim, in particular, loudly proclaimed his disbelief—though Jadren suspected a lot of that came from denial. Any new lord of a High House would be alarmed at the news that the ostensibly houseless, rogue wizard he’d imprisoned and threatened with execution was in fact the scion of one of the most powerful High Houses and ruthlessly powerful high-house heads. No one deliberately crossed Katica El-Adrel and, as Chaim subsided into muttering at his desk, head in his hands, Jadren almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

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