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Gabriel’s lip curled in distaste. “There you go, quoting Convocation spin.”
“I don’t want to fight about this. I’m simply explaining what the average, moderately talented and low-talented wizard faces—and what House Phel can offer both wizards and familiars.” Perhaps by emphasizing he’d be helping familiars, too, she could sway him to her concept.
“What all is involved in establishing these contracts?” he asked, an encouraging sign, that he asked after particulars.
“You know, I don’t know what other houses do. Something they teach only to wizards, apparently. House Elal has a detailed agreement, plus the tattoo.”
His brows climbed. “A tattoo?”
“On the inside of the wrist, inked by a metal elemental. Actually, all Elal citizens receive one. It identifies them as protected by Elal, and allows them to cross the border protections without a wizard present.”
“How does that work?”
“I’m not certain of the details, as it’s proprietary to wizards, but as I understand it, the metal elemental in the ink passes the information to the spirits guarding that section of the border, and the wizard attending them knows to allow the passage.”
“Thereby monitoring everyone who crosses.”
“Well, yes,” she replied, suddenly uncomfortable. “Papa is zealous about the security of Elal borders.”
“Why don’t you have a tattoo?”
She looked at the inside of her wrist as if one might appear. “I’m family.”
“I see. No tattoos. We’ll draft an equitable contract that’s fair to everyone involved. Can we offer them a percentage of sales of any products they develop?” he added thoughtfully, surprising her.
“That kind of thing isn’t done…” But she trailed off, considering the ramifications.
“All the more reason to do it,” he said, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his desk. “The familiars, too. The teams split their share equally.”
“Familiars have no way to store wealth,” she mused.
“So you’re dismissing the possibility.”
“No.” She glared at him. “I’m thinking through the options. Stop being an ass just because you’re prickly on this topic. Familiars have no legal right to property—anything they might receive goes to their wizard, and its incumbent on the wizard to provide for them.”
“We can make it legal in Meresin.”
“You could. It would give the Convocation one more reason to want House Phel to sink into the swamp again, and the familiars wouldn’t be able to spend their income outside of Meresin. We could, however, front for the familiars with the house vendor accounts, provide them opportunities to purchase what they like. But there’s a complicating factor.”
“There always is.”
“Isn’t that the truth? The wizards would have to agree to this scheme, and I’m thinking not many will.”
“It would be an excellent criterion to eliminate unsuitable candidates. If a wizard won’t agree to our basic rules of familiar autonomy, I don’t want them.”
She contained a sigh of exasperation. “We’re not looking for reasons to eliminate candidates. You need tobuildyour house.”
“Not on the backs of indentured servants,” he replied implacably. “I won’t bend on this, Nic.”
“Do you bend onanything?” she snapped back, knowing the answer to her question. She’d known it from the moment he’d walked into her tower room, and she’d despaired, feeling the Fascination click into place for this man who could never be browbeaten or manipulated.
Abruptly, he grinned at her, a wicked slant to it. “I can think of a few things you’ve gotten me to compromise on.”
Absurdly, she flushed at the innuendo, the reminder of how they’d come together. “You’re forgetting a key factor in this dynamic.”
He sobered. “The bonding.”
“Exactly. The wizards might agree on the surface, then tell their familiars to turn over their share of the profits—and the familiar will have to do so. The familiars might even offer that freely, just to keep their wizard happy.”
