Sorceress of Faith

by Robin D. Owens

  A lantern atop the large desk glowed—bright on the first blank pages of an open book. Marian’s mouth dropped open, but she was too tired to make a sound, too weary to mess with the feather pen sitting in the pretty gold-edged glass inkwell.

  Instead she went behind the stained-glass partition to her bedroom and removed her clothes and shoes, folding her dress up as she’d found it. Not a wrinkle or a speck of dirt marred the cloth. On one of the lower shelves she found a pile of pale gowns that looked like nightwear, and drew one on, sighing with tired pleasure as the soft material whispered over her skin. When she climbed into bed and found the sheets warm, she chuckled. Magic could provide incredible luxury.

  Trying her own Power, she said, “Lights out,” and smiled as darkness enveloped her loft.

  Just before she fell asleep, a thought occurred to her: all her skill in being able to shape weather would not help Andrew.

  In the morning Marian found a little golden tattoo of a bird on the inside of her left wrist, but no other scar. When she tried to converse with Bossgond at breakfast, he replied in grunts, and she decided he was naturally a grumpy old man who’d tried to tone down his manner for the past couple of days. She much preferred his slight deception to her mother’s hypocrisy. They ate another bland cheese omelette and coffee.

  She must remember to get them a cook.

  After breakfast her heart pumped hard as he gestured to the oversize binoculars—the ones he used to watch Earth. They had their own stand of polished brass. The instrument itself was of copper-inlaid brass and shone—obviously Bossgond’s pride and joy. The eyepieces were the right size; it was the other end that held great lenses, each about three feet in diameter.

  Bossgond went to the stand and adjusted gleaming gears. “I’ve been observing your Exotique Terre for half a year now—as soon as a Circlet reported that destiny tunes indicated more Exotiques would be Summoned.”

  “Oh?” Marian encouraged.

  “Then the Marshalls Summoned the first Exotique as expected, to keep and train as one of their own, and indications appeared that we, the Tower Community of Circlets, should accept the next Exotique as one of us.”

  He was leaving a lot out, Marian was sure, but right now all her attention was focused on the binoculars. She bit her lip, waiting impatiently.

  Bossgond tapped the fancy brass instrument. “This is still focused on your former abode. See for yourself.”

  8

  Careful not to joggle the binoculars, Marian bent to peer through the eyepiece.

  Her breath caught as she saw the gray carpet of her apartment, the taped red star. The incense smoke had long since dissipated, but the little power-light for her sound system was still on. Her PDA was in the middle of the pentacle.

  Drawing back, she nibbled her bottom lip, glanced at Bossgond. “I know it’s been only two days, but my brother is very sick. Could I check on him?”

  He stared at her in silence, and she wondered how much he’d received and understood about Andrew. She kept her eyes on his. She wouldn’t back down. Bossgond’s eyes narrowed.

  “How far away is your brother?”

  Marian spread her hands. “Across the country from me. My home is in the middle of a great land mass—”

  Bossgond nodded.

  “—and my brother is on the West Coast.” What was that island’s name? She’d researched the program when Andrew first considered it a year ago. Freesan!

  “You know the geography of your land and where to find him?” Bossgond’s eyes shifted, and she sensed excitement flowing from him. He’d have someone to help him tour Exotique Terre.

  “Yes,” she said.

  He pointed to a couple of great gears with knobs and calibrated markings. “This will distance you from the scene, and this gear will bring you closer.”

  One eye at the lens, Marian turned the biggest gear. Her living room shrank and was replaced by her apartment building. As she kept turning, she saw her street, the city, the state. It was brown—much drier than Lladrana, even in the spring. With a gentle touch she angled the viewing field until she saw northwest Washington State, moved the binoculars again to focus on the many islands. Freesan was small and undistinguished—long and narrow. She recalled that the center sat on the north end of the island. Finally, she found the main structure. She zoomed in, but couldn’t see Andrew. A fine tremor started within her.

  “You are blood. Think of his Song,” Bossgond murmured near her ear.

  That didn’t help. She hadn’t ever noticed a Song coming from Andrew. She set her teeth, drew in a deep breath. Her magic was strong here in Lladrana. If she couldn’t hear him, perhaps she could sense him or see his aura—or something. She mentally reached for Andrew, visualizing him. For a moment she touched him, then lost him. She muttered under her breath, reached again—and there he was! Quickly, with fumbling fingers, she narrowed the scope of the binoculars and saw him. Her heart clutched. She hadn’t seen him for a couple of months and his recent exacerbations had taken a toll. He was very thin, as if his will sustained him more than his body.

  Bossgond nudged her aside, but kept a hand on her upper arm as he looked through the binoculars. “Ah yes, I hear your family melody.”

  He did?

  He glanced up at her and clucked his tongue. “Listen!”

  So she did, with her heart and imagination, more than her mind, and caught a brief series of notes. She did hear that while her own portion of the twined melody was strong, Andrew’s was arrhythmic and missed beats.

  “He does well,” Bossgond said. “He is active.”

  The old man stepped aside, allowing Marian to peek again, and she saw Andrew laughing in a group as they picked up packs and walked from the building.

  “That is enough,” Bossgond said, drawing her away. “You used much Power for this session, but the worlds of Exotique Terre and Amee draw apart, and every day it will cost more energy to view. You have much to learn, and need your strength to do so.”

  “I want to check on Andrew at least once a week.”

  Bossgond raised his brows. “We will discuss a price for this.”

  “How about finding and supervising the cook, as we spoke of?”

  His eyes went calculating, as if pondering whether she could survive in his culture, outside his Tower. She wondered, too, but she’d think of something.

  “Very well,” he agreed.

  Light-headed with relief, she took a couple of paces to the wall and leaned on it.

  Bossgond smirked. “You don’t know how to restore your Power yet.” Then he bent and adjusted the gears. “They are focused on your former rooms again. ‘I am a Circlet, behold,’” he said.

  He whistled—sharp and nearly at the edge of her hearing—and made an intricate, swooping gesture. Then he held her PDA in his hand.

  Marian gasped.

  He bowed, grinning, and offered it to her.

  She snatched it from his hand, clutched it to her chest. “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome,” he said austerely. “Consider it payment for my failure last night to complete the blood-bond to its proper strength.”

  “You retrieved my…little machine book. Could you possibly find my pet? He was lost in the corridor when we came here.”

  She thought of a pocket in the green gown she wore and one appeared, perfect to hold the PDA. She put her possession—her only possession from Earth—into the pocket.

  Waving her hands, she tried to describe Tuck. “He’s a…a mousekin in a clear ball.”

  Bossgond shook his head. “The corridor between worlds is inexplicable. The winds can be absent or like a hurricane. Monsters…”

  “No!”

  “I saw you come through, but only glimpsed your pet at that time. I have not seen him since. The binoculars are not designed to explore the corridor. I’m sorry.”

  Marian bit her lip. “Thank you, anyway.”

  At that moment all the chimes in the open window sounded.

 
“Visitors come.” Bossgond scowled.

  “A boat?”

  “No.” He flicked his fingers to the window. “Go see.” He looked as if he suppressed a smile…at her expense? She crossed to the window.

  A flying horse carrying two people circled the Tower, then descended to land in front of the main door. Marian found herself leaning out of the window to stare at the Pegasus. It was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen, and she’d never been a girl fond of horses. But this beast was different. It glowed with magic.

  “Hey!” someone called. “Hey, Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!”

  Marian choked and tore her gaze away from the winged horse to narrow her eyes at the small woman at the bottom of the Tower. Alexa—the other Earth woman, the first Exotique in centuries.

  “Will that grumpy old man let us in?” Alexa called, and Marian was torn between laughter at Alexa’s words and surprise that they’d both called him the same thing.

  “I’ll ask,” Marian shouted back in English, then turned to Bossgond. “Will you allow Alexa to visit?”

  “I let the volaran through my shield, didn’t I?” he snapped, and Marian sensed he’d learned enough English from her to know “grumpy old man.” She flushed but didn’t apologize.

  “I have not spoken with the Exotique Swordmarshall Alyeka yet.” With little grace, Bossgond tromped down the circular stairs, grumbling under his breath.

  Marian followed, excitement fizzing through her. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Bossgond ordered, “Light.” The lowest round chamber, which Marian hadn’t seen before, lit with a mellow glow.

  The room was so beautiful that Marian gasped: the walls were paneled in rich wood, carpets covered the stone floors, two large fireplaces with sculpted marble surrounds held crackling fires. Several tapestries hung on the walls. There were no windows. A defensive measure?

  Ripples of sound came from the entry doors—a scale rising and falling, rising and—

  “Will you stop that!” Bossgond yanked open one side of the doors, letting late-spring sunlight flood into the room, and faced a woman smaller than he. Alexa.

  She wore thick tights and a tunic that came to mid-thigh. And chain mail, with sheaths for sword and her wand—baton. Grinning at Bossgond, she said, “Shalutashuns, Bossgond.”

  Marian realized several things all at once: Alexa was about Marian’s own age, small for an Earth woman—about five foot even—and very small for a Lladranan. And she had a terrible accent.

  “Shalutashuns, Marian,” Alexa said, sounding drunk. She sighed and switched to English. “It’s the accent. I’m not good at languages and Lladranan still tangles my tongue.”

  “Kind of you finally to visit me,” Bossgond huffed. “I’m only the most Powerful Circlet on Amee.”

  Alexa blinked at him. Her next words were carefully pronounced. “I had no idea you wished to see me. You could have invited me, or come to the Castle.”

  Bossgond drew himself up so he could tower over the smaller woman. It didn’t faze her. “I do not travel.”

  “Huh,” said Alexa. “Sounds like you were just as interested in me as everyone else in Lladrana and irritated because I didn’t come and satisfy your curiosity.” She grinned widely. “As a matter of fact, I’d never heard of you until a couple of days ago.”

  He narrowed his eyes and looked like an evil mage. “Th-those arrogant Marshalls. Those impertinent younger Circlets…” he sputtered.

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Alexa nodded. “Sometimes prying information out of them is like pulling teeth.”

  He looked horrified.

  Alexa glanced at Marian. “You think they use that idiom?” she said in English.

  “It doesn’t look like it. I think you’ve shocked him to his core.”

  “Hmm. I haven’t had any dental problems since I’ve been here.” She ran her tongue around her teeth. “I wonder what they do. I hope it’s better than on Earth. I hate dentists.”

  “How long have you been here?” Marian asked.

  “Nearly three months. The weeks and days are about the same as on Earth, you know.”

  “Yes.”

  Alexa heaved a sigh. “I suppose we’d better find out what you know and what you don’t.”

  “A good idea.”

  “You must have a million questions.”

  “Somewhere around that.”

  “Did the feycoocu come with you?” asked Bossgond.

  “What?” Marian didn’t catch the word.

  “Fey-coo-cu,” Alexa said slowly. She fingered the baton sheathed at her side. “She’s my sidekick.” Alexa grinned. “A magical shapeshifter.”

  Marian stared. “If you say so.” But a little thrill went through her.

  Alexa laughed. “Yep, we have plenty to talk about.” She turned to a simmering Bossgond. “I am not proficient on volaranback. My husband brought me. The feycoocu accompanied us in her hawk form.”

  “Husband?” Marian asked. “Did two of you come from Colorado?”

  “Nope, I met him here.” Alexa shifted, flushed slightly. “I know it’s been quick, but you know that old saying about extreme circumstances and love. You don’t get any more extreme circumstances than these on Lladrana.” All humor left her face, and she rubbed at the scar on her cheek. “Let’s walk and talk.”

  “I think we’d better,” Marian said, swallowing apprehension. On the whole, she’d been treating this lightly, but there was no denying that if a bunch of people summoned you from another world, they were probably desperate and wanted something from you.

  Alexa made a half bow to Bossgond. “May I visit with your Apprentice, Circlet Bossgond?”

  He nodded regally. “Send the feycoocu to me if you see her. I have never met one.” His lip curled. “And if you don’t see her, I will talk to your Pairling. I’ve heard he is a black-and-white. We need to study those unfortunates more.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be glad to let you examine him,” Alexa said dryly.

  “Pairling?” asked Marian.

  “Husband, partner.” Alexa frowned. “Isn’t there a word ‘shieldmate’?”

  “Yes,” Marian said.

  Alexa nodded. “Then he’s my shieldmate. We fight together.”

  A chill slithered down Marian’s spine and she glanced at Alexa’s sword out of the corner of her eye. It appeared well used, with plenty of nicks on the fingerguard. Marian couldn’t imagine fighting with a sword or shield. A hint of the dreams she’d had at home drifted through her mind. She’d fought, though, with magic. This was feeling more and more ominous. She ran her hands up and down her arms.

  “You may go, Apprentice,” Bossgond said in a tone he hadn’t used before with her.

  She stiffened and frowned at him. But that made her think, too. Alexa apparently was a Marshall, which Marian had deduced was a powerful elite. She was stuck as an Apprentice.

  Alexa jerked her head to the door. “You should have seen the horrible Tests the Marshalls put me through the minute I arrived,” Alexa said under her breath.

  She shuddered, and Marian knew the woman was utterly sincere.

  Marian followed her. “Bossgond showed me an image of you walking in the mountains. Colorado?”

  “Yes.”

  “You had brown hair.”

  Throwing open the door, Alexa stepped into the sunlight. It gleamed on her silver hair. She looked back at Marian. “It was one of those turn-white-overnight deals. The night I came.”

  “Really?” Marian’s mouth had dried. As she went through the door she welcomed the cheery warmth of the sun.

  “Yeah, and my eyes deepened in color, too,” Alexa said, her curled fingers showing white knuckles as they clasped the top of her baton.

  The door slipped from Marian’s grasp and slammed shut.

  Alexa smiled at Marian and switched to English again. “You know your way around here?”

  “Not much.”

  Chuckling, Alexa said, “It’s only been a
couple of days since you arrived—but I’m sure they’ve been jam-packed with experiences.”

  “Oh yes,” Marian said fervently. “I remember a nice forest path and a peaceful meadow a few minutes away—will that suit?”

  “For sure.” She tilted her head. “I’m connected mentally to my husband, Bastien. He’s giving us privacy and hiding from Bossgond. He says he’ll talk to the old mage when he’s ready.”

  Marian led the way from Bossgond’s Tower. They paused at the forcefield for Marian to open a “door” for Alexa. Outside Bossgond’s sphere of influence they stood in the sun and studied each other.

  “I like the looks of you,” Alexa said.

  Marian felt relief from an anxiety that she hadn’t known she was feeling. “I like the looks of you, too.”

  She held out her hand and they shook, then Alexa turned Marian’s arm over to see her wrist. Alexa’s eyes sharpened.

  “You’ve blood-bonded with Bossgond?”

  “Yes, as Master and Apprentice.” Marian pouted a little.

  “Won’t be long until you’re a Circlet,” Alexa said casually, confidently. “The Song only Summons the best.”

  Marian liked her more and more.

  Alexa held out her left arm and pushed her sleeve up, showing her own tattoo: crossed wands. One was green with flames coming out of the top, the other black with silver twined around it. “This is my Pair-bond with Bastien—it’s a blood-bond, sex bond, love bond. We haven’t had a formal ceremony—like a wedding—the full binding—yet, though. We’re both a little nervous about that.”

  Then she flipped open the short sheath and drew out the green stick shown on the tattoo. It looked like jade.

  “It’s my baton—do you want to see it?” The offer was cheerfully made, but her gaze watchful.

  As soon as Marian touched the cool jade, a hard shock jolted up her arm. She hung on as the energy—Alexa’s energy—whirled through her, then settled, itchy, under her skin. As she stared at the baton, carved figures appeared, and the flames at the end danced.

  Alexa’s eyes widened and she nodded incisively. “Good. I thought you might be able to handle and use it. My husband, Bastien, can hold it for a couple of minutes, use it once, but that’s all. It’s good to know that you could wield it in an emergency.”