Sorceress of Faith (18 page)

As
she ascended the stairs at a quick pace, Tuck kept steady, and she knew they
were both pleased at this new way of transporting him.

When
she entered Bossgond’s chamber, the first thing she noticed was his crystal
ball flashing a rainbow of colors.

He
followed her gaze, sniffed in disdain and snapped his fingers. “Requests to
visit. Or demands. I do not want to see people, and I want
you
to
concentrate on your training before satisfying others’ curiosity.”

“Alexa
came yesterday.”

“That
was different. I had not met her.”

His
curiosity had
needed to be satisfied, and not only regarding Alexa. Marian knew he’d wanted
to meet Sinafin.

Bossgond
studied Tuck on her shoulder. “Is that a safe way for the hamster to travel?”

“Yes,”
Tuck squeaked.

The
old mage froze, his eyes sharpening. “It speaks.”

“
Me!
You talk to me. And I am a he.”

Bossgond
swallowed. “He knows grammar.”

Marian
gave a nervous laugh herself. “I think it must be the atomball. He’s sentient.”

“What
is sentient?” asked Tuck.

“You
think,” Marian said.

Tuck
grumbled. “Of course I think.”

She
shared an amazed glance with Bossgond. He narrowed his eyes, and Marian lifted
her left hand to curve it protectively over Tuck. “No dissecting!”

Bossgond
looked affronted as if the idea hadn’t crossed his mind. “Of course not. The
longer we have him to study—hmm—as your companion, the more we can learn of
him, of the atomball. It must have been the atomball that made him
intelligent—but how the atomball…” Bossgond shook his head. “I had a few notes
on this atomball. The Marshalls made it as a Test of Exotique Alyeka’s Power.
So twelve Marshall minds might have imprinted it—four of those people are now
deceased. I believe both Alyeka and the feycoocu transformed the thing. Now it
has been eaten by a hamster. Very interesting.” He looked distracted and headed
for his desk, instead of the table where two cheese omelettes sat.

“Food!”
cried Tuck.

Before
Marian could stop him, he scrabbled down her dress, snagging his claws in the
embroidery, which she watched reweave itself. He hopped to the floor and ran to
the dining table, up the leg and onto the table to sit on a plate and shovel
egg into his mouth.

Ick
. Despite the
fact that she knew the food wasn’t very good, Marian hurried over and cut a
quarter of the omelette for Tuck, saving the rest for herself. She recalled
where Bossgond kept the extra plates and the coffee. She poured a mug for
herself and one for her teacher, giving him the coffee, omelette and a fork and
napkin as he sat at his desk.

While
he ate absently, she sighed and returned to her place, wondering how long it
would take Alexa to find a cook for them.

After
breakfast, Tuck explored Bossgond’s room and the old mage requested that she
take the largest of her weather terrariums down to the lowest floor and work
with it there. Marian did as he asked.

When
she’d actually settled into the luxurious room, she found herself smiling at
having such rich surroundings. Better than the best home office she’d ever
seen. She allowed herself another cup of coffee, then began her lessons.

Bossgond
had printed instructions for her. Just reading was a lesson in itself.
Following his directions was even more fun. Today she practiced stirring the
wind and waves in preparation for making clouds.

She’d
mastered Wind—the scudding of the clouds around the enclosed environment,
little breezes that ruffled the tiny tree forms and slapped up waves. She’d
even managed a little hurricane in the ocean and a tornado on land.

Now
she studied Water. When Bossgond wasn’t looking she’d tried a little Tide and
flooded most of her seacoast. Then, of course, there was no way to hide her
mistake.

He’d
snorted with laughter, made her do her Wind exercises again, and commented that
she’d better not try Lightning without him—she could take out the Tower.
Abashed, Marian had agreed.

She
was slightly distracted whenever Tuck skittered across her line of sight. Joy
and affection welled in her at the thought of having him back—and as more than
a pet. Whether he could be a real companion she didn’t know, but she enjoyed
seeing him explore, and listened with half an ear to his squeaky comments.
“Good smell, here!” “Nice hole.” “Stone too cold on paws here. Stay away.”

With
incredible effort she visualized raising minute droplets of water from a river
and bay—she discovered she didn’t have the energy to handle a whole ocean, she
had to limit herself geographically. A good education, including basic science,
had saved her from lectures by Bossgond on how water became clouds. He’d seemed
impressed, but had grumped off to his own desk.

Marian
was muttering to herself, lowering the temperature so the droplets might
coalesce, when she became aware of someone looking over her shoulder. More than
one someone.

She
lost control of her condensation and the water fell back into the sea. Turning,
she scowled—and found herself looking at the other two who’d appeared in the
pentacle when she’d been Summoned. Searching her memory as she nodded to them,
she recalled their names. The woman was Venetria and the man Chalmon.

The
way they stood together, it seemed they were intimate—but she knew each had
wanted to claim her as an Apprentice. Relationships must get as tangled here in
Lladrana as they had among scholars at the university.

“Salutations,”
she said, now knowing why she was using the ground-floor parlor for her
experiments. Bossgond had anticipated the advent of other Circlets. He wouldn’t
have wanted to show them into either her or his working space.

They’d
come to check out the new kid on the block, she supposed. Only natural, but it
ate into her time. For an instant her gaze went to the door that was open on
the pretty spring day, but no shadow of sexy Jaquar announced him. Just as
well—she hadn’t forgotten that touch of warning.

“Salutations,
Marian,” said Chalmon. He held out his hand, and Marian recalled that she
hadn’t touched him. Jaquar—a cascade of notes; Venetria—a clash of chords;
Bossgond—a streaming tune.

Carefully
she put her hand in his. There was a tiny shock and a little hum between them,
as if he could become a friend—but only a friend.

All
three of them relaxed. Marian sensed Venetria had been prepared to be jealous,
and Chalmon had been unsure of what he truly wanted from Marian, but now was
willing to settle for what had naturally occurred.

Marian
released his hand, gestured to the open door. “Shall we walk?”

Venetria
cast a nervous glance at the stairs winding up the Tower wall. She licked her
lips. “Will Bossgond mind?”

“I’ll
tell him. We’re blood-bonded,” Marian said.

The
other two exchanged glances, and irritation rose in Marian that she wasn’t
conversant enough with the culture to understand nuances.

“I
would like to walk and talk,” Chalmon said, with a half bow.

Bossgond
, Marian sent
mentally,
I am taking a break. Venetria and Chalmon are here and we will
stroll along the meadow path
. She wasn’t going to lead them to the place
that resonated to her. Their inherent formality kept her at a distance—of
course, anyone seemed more formal than Alexa and Bastien.

Bossgond
replied telepathically.
Good, get them out of my Tower. I don’t want to talk
with them. And
, he added with a cackle,
this will allow your coastline
to dry out
.

Please
watch Tuck
,
Marian said stiffly.

An
absent grunt came from Bossgond.

Chalmon
nodded to her practice sphere. “Your Power is for weather?”

“Yes.”

“Jaquar,”
Venetria muttered under her breath.

Marian
looked at her quizzically and the other woman flashed an insincere smile.
“Jaquar Dumont also has that Power. No doubt sometime in the future you must
study with him.”

Her
expression went blank, and Marian sensed she hid something. She sighed and led
the way out of the Tower.

The
day was beautiful, spring edging into summer. The scents particularly pleased Marian—crisp
sea breeze, flowers, grass. She’d miss the freshness of unpolluted air when she
returned to Earth.

Breathing
deeply, she smiled.

But
the other two wore all-too-serious expressions.

“You
know why you were Summoned to Lladrana?” asked Chalmon.

“Not
specifically,” Marian said. “Swordmarshall Alexa dropped by yesterday and told
me I would be working with you of the Tower Community, but no one of this
Community has stated why you requested I be Summoned.” Of course, it had been
only three nights and two-and-a-half days, and Marian had her own priorities.

Chalmon
cleared his throat. “Much of the knowledge regarding the Dark that invades
Lladrana has been lost over the centuries.” He waved a hand. “Since the magical
fence posts and borders protected the mainland, we of the Tower Community
focused on our own studies.”

Marian
supposed that was the rationalization all the Circlets were using to explain
their inaction.

Venetria
took up the story. “Then the fence posts fell. The monsters invaded the
mainland and Alyeka was Summoned. She convinced Jaquar and some of us to fight.
More terrible horrors invaded—dreeths—” Venetria put a hand to her throat
“—then the sangvile.” Her lips quivered. “The sangvile ravaged a town where
many Sorceresses and Sorcerers lived—Coquille-on-the-Coast. I lost an aunt.”

A
cold chill raised the hair on Marian’s neck as she recalled Alexa’s image and
story. Venetria’s aunt might have been about the same age as Marian’s mother.

Stepping
closer to Venetria, Chalmon wrapped an arm around her waist and looked directly
at Marian—and she saw cool determination, perhaps even the edge of fanaticism.
“More sangviles may return. We must stop these evil beings.”

So
now that the Tower Community was actually threatened—Marian hadn’t forgotten that
the sangvile targeted Power users—Circlets would actually bestir themselves to
contemplate the problem. Sounded a lot like the scholars of her own world. But
Marian didn’t think Alexa had had much of a choice in ignoring the problem, and
now it appeared Marian would be integral to the Tower’s effort.

“Alexa
was Summoned to fight? Why did you Summon me? What do you want of me?” she
asked. When both pairs of eyes shifted away from her, a cold feeling spread
along her spine to her gut.

“We
want you to learn. Then you will be able to help,” Venetria said gently, still
not looking at Marian but at the path through the serene forest.

“And
what is my compensation?”

“Learning
for learning’s sake. Making a world safe—” Chalmon’s voice rose.

“It’s
not my world.”

Venetria
stopped, so Marian and Chalmon did, too. Venetria said, “You can raise your own
Tower and teach students, if you want. Also, as a Summoned Exotique, you
receive an estate and a certain amount of zhiv.” She waved her hand. “We have
islands to spare, and will collect jewels to ensure you live well.”

“This
is not my place. I will not stay. I have a sick brother I must return to.
If
you can find me a cure for his disease, I will do what you want.” As soon as
the words were out of her mouth, she felt infinitely reckless. But it would
take a miracle to cure Andrew.

Chalmon
frowned, absently took Venetria’s hand and kissed the back of it, placed her
fingers on his arm and began walking again. “A Circlet Medica is rare. One has
not raised a Tower for over two centuries.”

“Pity,”
Marian murmured. “I will, of course, learn all that I can, but when the Snap
comes, I will return home. And you still haven’t given me any details of what
is expected of me. Nor has Bossgond. Hard to fulfill a goal if I don’t know
what it is.”

Again
Chalmon cleared his throat. “We are still formulating a plan to fight the
Dark.”

“Who
is ‘we’?” asked Marian.

“Chalmon,
myself, Jaquar, some others.” Venetria made a moue. “Planning will take some
time—now all you must do is learn.” She looked at the pretty meadow ahead of
them and sighed. “Truly Alf Island is graced. Spring has barely touched my own
island of Zi.”

“What
are your specialties?” asked Marian. Perhaps she could figure out what they
might want of her from what they studied.

“I
am studying cold,” Venetria said. “Ice. I was able to freeze the thin membranes
of a dreeth’s wings. In battle—” She choked.

Marian
had a flash of the horror from the waves of fearful memory coming from
Venetria.

“I
study the pulses of the world core and the intervals between them,” Chalmon
said.