The Spell of Rosette (18 page)

Take him then, if it’s so damn important to you. I don’t care.

Rosette didn’t bother to send her mental thoughts straight to Amelia. The girl wouldn’t hear her anyway.

Take who?
Drayco replied.

Oh, my lovely. It was just a random thought spilling out into the night.

Girls bothering you again? No.

Really?

A little.

Do you want an escort?

Nah. Nearly there.
She didn’t want to think about it any more. She just wanted to submerge her body in the
hot pools, have supper, curl up with her familiar and go to sleep.

To dream of the one I have never met?
The question came from Drayco’s mind, still linked.

Rosette smiled.
Yes, if I’m lucky.
She blew him a mental kiss and jogged down the path.

The high wooden doors that led to the granite bathing pools were open. Rosette unlaced her boots and lined them up on a low bench. There were no other shoes there, no sign of anyone else. Clay really had gone. He was travelling so much this season he’d make journeyman before his next birthday. She yawned. At least someone was progressing.

The granite slabs felt rough on her bare feet. They were wet but not slippery. Steam enveloped her, making her skin warm and damp. The place echoed with drips from the vaulted ceiling. She looked up only to see the reflected darkness of the pools and the orange glow of the torchlight. Beads of perspiration rose on her brow. The water would be hot tonight.

The pools were fed by deep underground fissures, heated by the lava streams that flowed beneath the surface. Although the temperature fluctuated, it was always warm. According to rumour, it was once so hot that an initiate had passed out and drowned. They were warned not to bathe alone, though Rosette did so from time to time.

Pushing lank strands of hair off her face, she looked down at the shimmering surface. The crystal water was black in the torchlight, as if it had no bottom. She watched the drips make circular patterns that radiated, sending on impact tiny waves towards all four corner steps. She couldn’t wait to get in!

Unbuttoning her robe, she let it slip over her hips and fall to the ground. Reaching down to retrieve it, she
cursed. The floor was soaking wet, water pooling around her feet. There had been many people here recently. She shook the robe out and hung it on a hook.

Rosette tuned into picking up any sound or thought around her. She was a receptive and a mind-traveller herself, more than a novice. Her range was expanding and she hoped to surprise Nell with a message this winter—a solstice greeting, mind to mind. Dumarka was a long way to send a thought deliberately—even Drayco couldn’t do it—but she was determined to perfect this skill. Tilting her head and listening, she convinced herself she was the only one in the cavern.

She reached high above the row of hooks to the top shelf and found a dry towel. Inhaling, the scent of lavender and rose made her smile. She finished undressing and hung the rest of her clothes up, throwing the towel over her shoulder. While making her way to the steps, she untied her hair, setting the tiny silver bells chiming. She coiled her hair ties and bells into a nest at the edge of the steps, picked up a handful of salt grains and dipped her toe into the pool.

‘Hot!’ she exclaimed aloud. Her voice echoed through the empty chamber. ‘Hot, hot, hot!’

She dropped her towel. The steam rose around her as she descended the submerged steps. Her hair fanned out over the surface of the water until, saturated, it sank to her buttocks. Just as the water lapped up to her breasts, she started sensing she wasn’t alone. Her hand opened in reflex, the salt grains falling silently into the depths below.

‘Hello?’ She turned a complete circle, listening. Maybe Clay had come back to surprise her.

‘Who’s there?’ She smiled, guessing it must be him. ‘I didn’t think you’d leave without seeing me, Cassarillo. Where are you hiding?’

‘I thought we instructed initiates to be mindful of their environment.’

The voice was male, mature. Not Clay’s.

Rosette’s mind raced. She knew that voice, though she hadn’t heard it directed towards her since the day she arrived. There was no mistaking the tone and accent. It was the Sword Master.

‘Excuse me?’ She tried not to squeak.

‘I said,’ he articulated slowly, ‘what pressing matters occupy your mind that you’re unable to sense my presence?’

‘What pressing matters?’ Rosette quickly found a rocky outcropping and sat down, water up to her collar-bones. She flushed.
How do I answer that?

She couldn’t lie, had no inclination to. She didn’t want to spill out a stream of dribble either. That kind of response would never get her an apprenticeship with the man. And now she’d hesitated for so long, he certainly would think she had something quite involved to say.

She didn’t. Only the small things, the day-to-day things, had been bubbling in her thoughts: like, should she braid her hair for the new training tomorrow, or leave it out? Mara hadn’t even hinted at what kind of training it would be. Of course, she was also thinking more profoundly too.
What was Clay hiding? Did it have anything to do with the murder of her family?

Stop!
she chastised herself. Reinforcing her mind-shield, Rosette slipped her bottom off the marble seat and submerged her entire head under water.

Quick. Think of something!

Under the surface, Rosette heard the rush and reverberation of the waterfalls further downstream where the pools drained into the Terse River and eventually made their way to the sea. The tinkling of her earrings echoed in the current like a child’s laughter. Her chest tightened. She couldn’t hold her breath forever. She had to breathe.

Popping back up, she gasped, looking around. Where was he?

‘Are you going to answer me?’ he queried. ‘Or turn into a fish?’

Rosette twisted in the direction of his voice, her forehead creasing. ‘I didn’t imagine anyone would be here this late,’ she said, letting her breath out in a rush and gulping in another.

‘Perhaps,’ he said, creating ripples as he shifted on his perch, ‘you need to develop your imagination.’

She could make out his silhouette now. He was leaning back against the side of the pool, one arm reaching out along its edge, the other behind his head like a pillow.

‘And perhaps it would have been more courteous if you had announced your presence straight up.’ Her voice gained volume. ‘This is a place of leisure, Sword Master. I come here to unwind, not to test my receptivity skills.’

‘There’s no separation between the work and the life.’ His voice sounded stern. ‘You’ve also been cautioned against bathing alone.’

‘Well, I’m not alone now, am I?’ She snapped the words back, glaring in his direction.

He laughed. ‘Have we met?’

Goddess of the night, he doesn’t even remember me?

Now she was certain she wasn’t under consideration for his apprenticeship. She bit her lip. Under no circumstances would she cry. Bother this man and his deprived memory!

‘Yes,’ she replied slowly. ‘We met the day I arrived. You and Diablai gave me a lift to the demonstration, do you remember? It wasn’t long ago, Sword Master Rowan An’ Lawrence.’

‘You’re right, Rosette. It wasn’t that long ago.’ He moved into the light. ‘How’s the training going?’

What’s he playing at? Does he know me or not?
‘I’m progressing.’

‘Are you ready for something new?’

‘Say again?’

‘Do you have a hearing problem?’

‘What?’

Perhaps you can hear me more clearly now?

He sent the thought directly to her mind. Very strong. It surprised her how easily he slipped through her shield, or had she let it lapse?

I hear you, Sword Master.

‘Get some rest tonight, Rosette,’ he said aloud, swimming to the steps. ‘It’s time to put you to work.’

‘Okay,’ she whispered. ‘I will.’ Her mind started to spin with excitement. What did he mean?

He was ascending the stairs, water running off his bronzed back and his fingertips. His body was sculpted with rippling muscles etched with myriad tattoos. Her mouth formed a circle shape but she didn’t speak.

‘And, Rosette.’ He paused midway up the steps. ‘I’m the Sword Master, not a god. You can say anything to me that you like.’

She snapped her mouth shut and didn’t reply.
How much of my mental clatter-nat did he pick up?

She listened to the pad of his bare feet as he made his way to the exit. The huge wooden doors shut with a reverberating thud. She let out her breath, realising she’d held it in. Pushing away hair that clung to her face, she leaned back, staring up into the dark space above her.

‘Now that’s an attractive man,’ she whispered.

She tucked her chin down and blew bubbles in the water. Their first conversation since arriving hadn’t been like she’d imagined. It was actually quite peculiar, like a dream.

Taking another deep breath, Rosette swam to the steps and got a scoop of salt grains. She went wild with them,
scrubbing her body. She immersed herself completely and then floated on her back—only her nose, forehead and toes peeking above the dark surface. The water buoyed her up in a loving embrace. Mesmerised by the rushing sounds beneath her, she kicked slowly back to the steps. It was getting late—time to head home.

One more thing, Rosette.

She startled as the Sword Master’s voice boomed in her head.
I’m listening.

Braid your hair for tomorrow.

Rosette saw the message tacked to her cottage door before she reached the porch. It shone in the lamplight, a small slip of paper pierced by a copper nail. Pulling the towel off her shoulders, she took the steps in two strides. She examined the seal before tucking the note in her pocket. Mistress Mara had paid her a visit. What tasks could she have for her at this hour? She’d said to get a good night’s sleep, not work until dawn.

Yawning, Rosette smiled as Drayco appeared from nowhere. She forgot sometimes that he was a superb predator, adept at camouflage. He leapt the steps and pushed his head into her hand. She sank her fingers deep into his plush coat.

‘Did you see Mara, my black hunter?’

Yes, and another.
He purred, his words forming inside Rosette’s mind like waves on a tropical shore, cresting, rushing up and receding. It was the closest thing to a mental caress she’d ever experienced.

‘You’re in a pleasant mood tonight,’ she said as he arched his back against her bare thigh, tail entwining her waist.

Yes.

‘Who else came by?’ She continued to stroke the top of his head. ‘Another mistress?’

No other mistress.

‘Clay?’ she smiled. ‘You can say his name, you know.’

Drayco hadn’t taken much to Clay. He wouldn’t say his name and he wouldn’t explain why.
Not him.

She roughed his back vigorously. ‘Are you going to tell me or is this a guessing game?’

Is there milk?

‘Of course.’

The Sword Master came.

Chills rushed down Rosette’s back. An’ Lawrence had come here? ‘With Mistress Mara?’ she pressed.

He came after.
The purring increased.
Could we possibly see to the milk now?

Rosette tousled the temple cat’s head then pulled her hand back when he reared and took a playful swipe. ‘Yes, yes. Come inside and we’ll both have some warm milk and honey.’

Honey tastes like tree sap.

‘I like it.’ Rosette laughed as her familiar mimed what could only be a cat trying to get peanut paste out of its mouth. ‘Plain milk for you, of course.’

Thank you.

She unlaced her boots and lined them up by the door before entering her sanctuary. It smelled of herbs and scented candles, leather and polished wood. She gave the place a blessing as she crossed the threshold and lit the nearest candle. A warm glow filled the room.

I’m so grateful to be home.

She knew how lucky she was. Second- or third-year apprentices usually shared the tiny cottages down by the river with two or even three others, but Rosette, still unassigned, warranted one of her own. Unlike most of the students at Treeon Temple, she came with a large and vivacious familiar whose nature had been enough
to get them a place to themselves before the sun had turned even a quarter past the first solstice.

It was clear that dormitory life was not for them, though they had done their best to fit in. Six weeks after her arrival, three different dorms and several roommates later, the entire temple population had supported her move to the cottage. She smiled at the memory.

How was I to know that your roommates didn’t want rodents on their pillows every night?
The temple cat sent the query when he picked up on her thoughts.

Rosette laughed. ‘You know I don’t care for it much.’

I always thought you were strange that way.

‘Did you now?’ she smiled. ‘It all turned out fine because we have this place to ourselves.’

Lighting more candles, she reached into her pocket and fished out the note, ready to face whatever task her mentor had set for her. The message got straight to the point (no frills from Mistress Mara). She read it over twice between stoking the coals of her hearth, pouring milk from the cool box and slicing a thick piece of bread. Her body shook when she finally put the message down on the table.

Maudi?
Drayco inquired.
Are you going to give me the details or burst on the spot?’

‘You’re not going to believe this.’
I don’t even believe it,
she added in her mental voice.

Drayco jumped onto a chair beside the table and continued to purr, black cat hairs levitating about him when she scratched behind his ears.
I’d like to have the chance to believe, or not believe, if only you would tell me. Your thoughts are a jumble. I can’t read them.
He spoke in a curious tone, feline sarcasm.
Is it good news? At least tell me that.