Lord of Unkindness Ch. 24

 Notes: Look at these three, managing to be productive for a whole *checks watch* few minutes!

Title: Lord of Unkindness Ch. 24

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Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Getting through the basics takes a matter of minutes. Ciro and Annette were trained the same way, after all. There are some familial differences, little tricks and turns that are passed from parent to child, but multi-familiar mages have a wealth of power to draw from. It’s the nature of having so many familiars at their beck and call from a young age. Those with a single familiar to start with have to start slow and learn to rely on themselves more, but families like Ciro’s have a creature by their side as soon as they’re able to do magic. It’s not something they need to train, really.

And that’s the problem.

“Your familiar is a manifestation of your magic, not the other way around,” Annette says for the third time in the past hour. Ciro tilts his head from side to side in an effort to crack it. “Pay attention.”

“I am!”

“You’re listening but you’re not hearing what I’m saying!”

“I am! We’re born with intrinsic magical ability that isn’t bound by the existence of our familiars and can access it with practice, but I don’t have that kind of practice,” Ciro says. He’s not snapping. He’s not. He isn’t in the right mental space to snap at this woman, but he’s definitely frustrated. “Yes, fine, it’s the sort of thing that can be learned. Great. But that’s got to take years of training.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Angelo notes from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, sipping tea from a bright blue mug. “It just requires determination and focus.”

“Neither of which I’m good at.”

Annette rolls her eyes. “Stop it. You’re not stupid, no matter what your father has made you listen to over the years.” Ciro goes still, and then regrets it because he sees her notice. “Oh, you think I didn’t know? I knew how hard he was on you! I knew all about the things he would say about you behind your back, never mind to your face. He told my father that he was sorry I was going to be married to such a lazy brat, but that he’d do his best to whip you into shape before the wedding.”

Ciro can literally hear his father’s voice in his head, saying exactly that. It still hurts, even though he’s understood this about their relationship since he was a little boy. His father finds Ciro useful—found, at least—but he’s never liked his son. He raged at Mei time and again for her inability to have another child, told her he would put her aside and get another wife, told her they were going to try dark magic, blood spells, to get her pregnant with a better baby.

“Your father has made you think you’re incompetent, but you’re not,” Annette goes on, unrelenting. Ciro shuts his eyes so he at least doesn’t have to see the earnestness in her face. “You’re more than just strong, you’re smart. You held off your entire family for months! That’s amazing!”

It’s actually harder to hear compliments than it is to hear insults. He’s used to insults. Being told he’s good, or clever, or brave…

Someone touches his hand and he shakes it off immediately. He can’t take being touched right now, it will feel too much like he’s being cozened. He doesn’t need lies to do what needs to be done. Annette has a limited amount of time with them; Ciro needs to make the most of it. He breathes in deep, lets go of his frustration and anger as best he can, then opens his eyes and looks at her. Angelo has moved closer, but Ciro avoids his gaze. This isn’t about them. This is about him.

“Fine. I’ll try to stay focused. What do I do?”

“Not resentful at all,” Annette murmurs as she pets her cat’s back. It turns and nudges its head under her hand, and she obediently scratches beneath its chin. A second later, the familiar disappears.

Ciro doesn’t startle, but only because he’s too tense. “Nice trick.”

“It’s useful,” she agrees. “Learning to hide the magic you do have is an easier place to start than conjuring up magic that’s not near you. But watch.” A second later, the cat is back. A second after that, another cat steps out of the first one’s shadow. It’s a demonstrably different cat—this one has far more white patches against its orange fur. Ciro knows his jaw has dropped, but…

“You got them back?” A pain he didn’t even realize was tearing at his heart eases.

Annette smiles. “Some of them. When Nephele went after my familiars, I was…wounded.” Almost to death. “It’s taken a long time to heal those magical wounds, but as I have it’s been easier to conjure more familiars again. You see what I mean, though? I was down to one, and now I have as many as six cats again.” Both cats split once more, becoming a long-haired, fluffy feline and another that’s as small as a kitten, which immediately jumps off the couch and runs over to Angelo.

Ciro tries to ignore the fact that his first emotion when he sees Angelo petting one of Annette’s familiars is jealousy. That should be his magic preening under his lover’s fingers. Angelo looks up at him and raises an eyebrow, too tuned-in to Ciro’s emotions for Ciro’s own good.

“Use that envy, baby.”

Annette nods, because of course she does. “Associating strong emotions with the magic you want to access is the best way to do it, in the beginning. Whether it’s joy or anger or jealousy, those are really good catalysts to manifesting your familiar.”

It’s the exact opposite of everything Ciro was taught growing up. Control, control, control. You don’t let your emotions get the better of you. That’s for lesser beings. That’s why Nephele can’t be put in charge of anything serious—she’s a loose cannon. That’s why you’re going to be beaten black and blue until you “stop crying, damn you” and get it right, or else. Do it. Now again. Now better.

Right in front of his eyes, Angelo picks up the kitten and kisses it on the head. It mews and pats Angelo’s face with its little paws, and Ciro feels a lurch in his gut as he watches it.

“Let your magic out,” Annette encourages. “Use your emotions to fuel that resurgence. The magic is inside of you, Ciro. It’s not separate from you until you force it to be. That’s how we all start—the magic is there when we’re born, we just give it a shape later on. Find it, and bring it here.”

Angelo is cradling the kitten now, rubbing his blunt, strong fingers over its tiny belly, and fuck it. Ciro grits his teeth together and reaches—not toward his magic the way he’s used to, not like he normally does when he calls it to himself, but toward the origin of his feelings in the first place, the tense, vibrating place inside of him that promises either answers or broken fucking dishes if his magic doesn’t get over here right now and—

It’s like popping a joint back in place, or having a single hiccup. Ciro jolts, and a moment later his raven is there, big and beautiful and cawing up a storm. It hops down from his shoulder and literally marches over to Angelo, and for a moment Annette stiffens in alarm. A raven that big could practically bite the head off that little kitten.

It does no such thing, instead flapping up onto Angelo’s head, bending over, and pecking him firmly right between the eyes.

“Ow!” He raises his hand and the raven hops onto it, then immediately curls into the crook of his other arm and croaks triumphantly at the kitten, who’s already jumping down in favor of chasing its own tail. The other three cats are in various states of lounge, no alarm to be seen, and Ciro finally gives in to the sense of accomplishment he feels and grins.

“Good job,” Annette says proudly. “That’s one. Let’s see how many more we can get before we break for lunch.”