Sorceress of Faith

by Robin D. Owens

  “Very well. Today I heard something in the wind that said I might find help for Andrew.”

  Bossgond snorted, looked at Jaquar. “Report on the Scholar Marian,” Bossgond demanded.

  Marian’s face went perfectly blank. An oral evaluation with her present?

  “She is progressing well,” Jaquar said easily. “Level five with Wind, a solid level one in Water.”

  Grunting, Bossgond said, “Has a problem with Ocean, eh? Wasn’t noticeable in the ecospheres.”

  “No,” Jaquar agreed.

  “Told you she was best with Lightning, so is naturally weakest with Ocean. Have you given her any practicums in Lightning?”

  Jaquar’s cheeks tinted red. “No. That will come the easiest, and the best Lightning Study grounds are at the far end of the island.”

  “Very well. I heard from Chalmon that the maw of the nest is quite active.”

  Marian listened sharply. This wasn’t a topic she knew of or understood.

  Jaquar shrugged. “It has been so the past few days. Hard to extrapolate what is happening or may occur.”

  Bossgond grunted again, turned his stare back to Marian. He smiled, and Marian nearly jumped at the unexpected charm of it.

  “The cook is good, Marian.” Bossgond licked his lips. “Thank you.”

  She returned his smile. “You’re welcome.”

  He seemed hesitant. “I miss you,” he said gruffly.

  Touched, Marian felt tears behind her eyes. “I miss you, too.”

  “I’m working on a Sending to return you to Exotique Terre. We can probably do it in the time period you require—three more weeks.”

  Squinting into the small orb, Marian could see his desk piled with papers and scrolls and books. She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

  He nodded, glanced at her, then Jaquar. “Proceed with her training. When she is close to Circlet in all areas, bring her back to me.”

  Jaquar raised his eyebrows, but all he said was, “Yes.”

  “Good studies,” Bossgond said, and the crystal ball went dark.

  “Marian! Jaquar,” Tuck said, sitting in his nest of Marian’s underwear.

  She hurried over and picked him up. Holding him up to eye level, she said, “Hello, Tuck.”

  “Hello, Marian. Hello, Jaquar,” Tuck said. “Marian did well today?”

  “Very well,” Jaquar assured the hamster seriously. “She has great Power and will and is rapidly learning basic technique in Wind. She just needs the skill of control.”

  Marian flushed at the memory of tipping and falling in the wind. She hoped she did better with Lightning.

  Tuck nodded. “I will tell Sinafin.”

  Jaquar continued. “She is not as skilled with Ocean.”

  Tuck waved a paw. “Water is not as important for Marian as fire.”

  They stared at him, then at each other. Though they both had a thirst for knowledge, Marian sensed Jaquar was as reluctant as she was to question Tuck about Sinafin. This whole conversation seemed to be straying into prophecy. From the tension in Jaquar’s muscles, Marian thought he no more wished to learn of the future or Sinafin’s agenda than she did.

  “Nice garments,” Jaquar said, and Marian realized he was staring at her underwear. He grinned wickedly. “They look better on Marian, though.”

  With a sniff, Marian set Tuck on her shoulder, scooped up her clothing and held out her hand for the crystal ball.

  Suddenly she wanted to be alone and as far away as she could from all the strangeness—which meant holing up in her rooms. “With your permission, Circlet Jaquar, I would like to retire to my rooms and eat dinner there.” Maybe she could conjure up food that was close to American cuisine. “I think you have an appointment this evening.”

  All expression vanished from his face, and Marian stilled in wariness. Cool, unreadable blue eyes met hers.

  “That I do. I will transfer my lorebooks on medicine to your desk.” He turned and walked away.

  Tuck’s claws dug into her shoulder. Danger, he said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Sinafin said—”

  “Am I safe here in the Tower?”

  He came up close and rubbed against her neck, his soft fur comforting as well as tickling. “Yes.”

  She nodded decisively. “I’ll be careful.” Walking to the stairs, she started down. There had been that warning premonition about Jaquar. Thinking about the man—his sad and steady blue eyes, the lovely dance they’d shared, the fun of playing with the Wind—created a warmth inside her. The sexual attraction between them was potent. She also liked him a great deal—and that was a priority. Never again would she let simple physical attraction lure her into intimacy with a man as she had with the late, unlamented associate professor Jack Wilse.

  But Jaquar Dumont was not Jack Wilse. The Sorcerer had a presence, probably from his mastery of Power, that Marian believed Wilse would never have.

  Jaquar definitely made her insides tingle and her toes curl. What harm could it do to have a good, hot fling here in Lladrana?

  She didn’t know.

  She had no idea what sort of ramifications emotionally, but more importantly, socially, a sexual affair might entail. The worst was the idea of a bond. They already had a potent Song between them—stronger even than hers with Bossgond, and that had included blood.

  She’d have to beware of becoming emotionally involved with Jaquar. She couldn’t afford to have sex with him—not if it would bind her to Lladrana.

  17

  Though Marian had gone to her rooms to feel less alien, the rooms were, of course, as different from her own apartment in Boulder as everything else on Lladrana was different from her other life. She sat at the intricately carved desk, which repeated the pattern of Jaquar’s golden circlet, and brooded. By the time she’d reached the apprentice suite a few minutes earlier, books and scrolls had already materialized on her desk.

  Tuck had clamored to explore, so she’d put him down and heard scrambling and peeps in the background as he took stock of her quarters.

  She’d spent most of her time in practical lessons and hadn’t read much the past few days—a unique situation for her. Usually she consumed books, both fiction and nonfiction. After eyeing the books, she knew when she opened one that it would be in unfamiliar script. She had bonded with Bossgond, who certainly knew how to read, and Alexa who probably knew how to read in both English and Lladranan, so Marian should be able to read, too.

  She propped her head on her elbows and rubbed her temples. A slight whoosh came to her ears, and the Tower’s atmosphere changed subtly. Jaquar was gone.

  Tension drained from her, and only then did she realize that she’d been waiting for him to leave. Now she was totally alone for the first time since she’d arrived on Lladrana, and it felt…good. Not at all scary.

  As he flew on Nightsky to Chalmon’s island, Jaquar considered Marian. Since the dance the night before, she had seldom left his thoughts.

  Jaquar shouldn’t want to bond with Marian. She wasn’t staying in Lladrana, and the heartache wasn’t worth the passion. He lied to himself. With Marian, he felt so alive, so complemented by another person, that he knew the sex would be better than he’d ever had.

  But he wanted more. He wanted what his parents had had.

  Bossgond had called to check up on him, and that fired Jaquar’s blood. As if Bossgond thought he’d hurt her…continue with his original plan. It had been tempting, until he kissed her. Then Sending her to the Dark’s maw had become impossible.

  Even now, unemotional logic said that her connection with the weapon-knot made her perfect for the task of destroying the nest. All she had to do was pull a thread…and kill herself.

  Perhaps that was not true. No one knew how Powerful the knot was, whether it would destroy the nest, whether it would kill if she used it. But he wouldn’t mention this to Chalmon and Venetria.

  No one knew whether the nest would be wounded, how much, if Marian was Sent the
re. So logic bolstered his emotional decision. He wanted vengeance, but not at the expense of an injured Marian. His goals had changed. He would not use Marian as a weapon against the Dark. He’d convince Chalmon and Venetria not to act on their own. Now he must concentrate on teaching Marian, and her best weapon would be Lightning.

  Marian still hadn’t opened a book when Tuck cheeped excitedly, “What’s this, what’s this, what’s this?” A scrabbling noise. “Food!”

  Marian tilted her head. She didn’t recall having any food in her rooms. There was a crash from the bedroom. It sounded…Earthlike. Dread speared her, she shoved back the chair and ran into the bedroom, yelling “Light!” Fire crackled to life in the fireplace. Crystal globes flared brightly.

  Tuck put his paws over his eyes, squeaking indignantly. “Hurts!”

  Humming, Marian lowered the light, then saw the destruction. Her stomach cramped.

  Tuck sat in the midst of the remains of her PDA. She stared at it, horrified. Tiny electronic parts, as esoteric to her as any magic she’d learned, were scattered in bits around the hamster. Anger flashed through her. She’d considered the PDA her very own tangible link with her homeland. It had been the symbol of the control she had over her life, the knowledge she’d mastered—control that was currently missing in the chaos of adapting to a whole new world. She stared at the hamster, who sat back on his haunches and groomed his whiskers with tiny claws. Obviously he had the digits and Power to open the computer.

  “What have you done?”

  “It was dying.”

  She flinched. She hadn’t wanted to admit that, even though she’d only been turning it on for a few seconds at a time to see familiar colors and menus and notes that represented her old life.

  Tuck burped. “So I ate it.”

  “What?”

  “I opened the nut up and ate the kernel. Now I know everything it knows.”

  Marian was speechless.

  Tuck squeezed his eyes shut and emitted a huff. When he opened his eyes, they were all too sentient, all too understanding of her emotions. What had she kept in her Personal Notes section?

  “Just like I ate the golden nut Sinafin gave me, I ate the nut inside that thing that beeped.”

  It had—every morning when it was time to leave for her bus to work, when she had important meetings, lunches, parties. Thanksgiving at her friends’, for heaven’s sake! Somehow she couldn’t see Tuck beeping.

  “You know everything?” she asked weakly.

  “Pick up the laundry every Tuesday evening at 6:00 p.m.,” he said, then continued, “Andrew’s birthday March twenty-second.”

  “That’s the appointment book,” she confirmed. “May I pick you up?”

  “Yes. It was a tiring dinner.”

  “Oh.” She took Tuck, went to the armchair she’d created in which to talk to him and placed him in his tufted nest. He curled up and watched her with bright black eyes.

  Marian settled into the deep chair. It conformed to her body and she sighed in pleasure. With a wave and just a little grief, she dissolved the remnants of her PDA into molecules and sent them into a storage lattice of Power that Bossgond had shown her how to use and had sent with her things that were now spread out on the bed. She wasn’t sure how she’d use the complex molecules but was sure she’d figure out something.

  Tuck blew out a breath.

  She shook her head. “I really can’t see how I can play Solitaire with you.”

  He hunched up and hummed quietly, just as her PDA had!

  “Watch.”

  Midway between them, a small image of her last Solitaire game appeared.

  “Wow. I’m impressed.” She was beginning to enjoy herself. “Music?”

  His eyes bulged even more than normal and he opened his mouth. Strains of “Over the Sea to Skye” played on guitar poured forth.

  Marian listened, entranced, tears again coming to her eyes. This time they rolled down her cheeks. That had been her favorite track on the last album Andrew had given her. She summoned a tissue, wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

  “You played that one the most,” Tuck said, sitting again on his rump, paws in front of him.

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t understand music before. Your music in the square nut is different from the Songs I learned when I crunched the golden walnut. I ate the shell of that nut, but not yours.”

  “I’m amazed that you could eat the meat of my ‘nut’ at all,” she said.

  He opened his mouth in what she’d come to know was his smile. “You liked the nut and didn’t want it to die. I wanted more mind-food. I thought how I could do it, and I did.”

  Like person, like animal companion. “Yes, you did!” Songs. That meant prophecies in Lladrana. What sort of Songs had the golden walnut carried and Tuck absorbed? “So what did the Songs in your first nut say?”

  His whiskers twitched, his paws clasped each other. “Sinafin said I was not to tell.”

  Marian could probably coax it from him, but respected him enough not to try. She respected a hamster. That sounded crazy. She bit down on her lip. He was an intelligent being, and he was her friend more than he was a pet or animal companion. And now he was the only thing she had from Earth. Her eyes widened in horror. And what would she do if she lost Tuck? The bits of plastic and glass and metal around him that had been her mainstay in Colorado were nothing compared to him.

  She’d have to find some way to protect him.

  He said, “You do not need to worry. I am very strong. I will live long, now, and I have much Power.”

  She wondered how much hamster and how much magical being Tuck was. It would be fascinating learning what he could do. Like Alexa, Tuck was now a mixture of Earth and Lladrana.

  A twinge of anxiety nibbled at her. She didn’t know how she’d be able to take him back to Earth. If he retained his Power on Earth, she shuddered at the idea of his falling into scientists’ hands.

  After chittering to get her attention, Tuck said, “I want to go back to my house now. I have good drink and salty nuts there. I want my better food.”

  Marian wanted to listen some more to Earth music. Instead she gestured to the speaking tube by the bed—this one with a trumpet painted like a blue morning glory and the tube a green stem with embossed varicolored green leaves. “Jaquar’s study is locked to me. Can you climb up that?” Four floors.

  He perked up. “Yes.” Staring at her with his protuberant black eyes, Tuck said, “I’d like to go outside tomorrow with you and Jaquar. You can watch me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” He nodded emphatically.

  “Very well. Ready to go upstairs?”

  “Yes.”

  Marian set him in the bottom of the tube. He grinned at her, cheeped, and zoomed up the shaft. The opening strains of Mozart’s “The Magic Flute” echoed down and kept her company as she headed back to her desk. Lladrana had changed Tuck, wondrously. Perhaps it could change Andrew, too.

  Impatient that he had to explain himself to other Circlets, Jaquar strode into the parlor of Chalmon’s Tower. Venetria and Chalmon stood by the large table, arguing. They stopped as soon as they saw him.

  “Salutations,” Jaquar said.

  Chalmon placed a hand on Venetria’s shoulder. “I think we all agree that we must cooperate and that the Dark can no longer be ignored. It was for that very reason that we had the Marshalls Summon our own Exotique.”

  Jaquar said, “Since she comes from outside our community, and is exceptionally Powerful, I think she will be an able leader, given time.”

  Frowning, Chalmon said, “We definitely need a report on the Exotique. That is why we asked you to come. We must learn when she will be ready to infiltrate the Dark’s nest. All the signs point to the maw opening in the next couple of days. Will the Exotique be ready to enter then?”

  “I have another idea,” Jaquar said. “Perhaps we can form a team to seal the maw. Close their own shield. We may not be able to infiltrate i
t and learn of the Dark, but we could delay, perhaps even stop the master and the horrors he controls.”

  Chalmon tapped a crystal ball. “One of the younger Sorcerers tried to lob a fireball in—nothing. We’ve tried everything, and nothing works. All our Power slides away from the place. Nothing penetrates and nothing sticks.” He grimaced. “Ten people have attempted spells.”

  Jaquar’s gut tensed.

  “Is it true the woman is already a Third Degree Scholar?” Venetria asked.

  “True.”

  Both Chalmon and Venetria exclaimed in astonishment.

  “When do you anticipate her becoming a Fifth Degree Scholar or a Circlet?” Chalmon asked.

  Jaquar had already considered the question, estimated the time, lengthened it to protect Marian. “I believe no longer than a month.”

  “That’s not soon enough.” Chalmon’s voice hardened. “I believe the maw will open within the week. We must send Marian in to learn of the Dark, to harm the nest and perhaps destroy this once-human master who taunts us and directs the horrors.”

  “I think your plan disastrous,” Jaquar said. “What can you hope to learn through her?”

  “I’ve made a little echoing spell—it will send back all she sees and hears when she is within the nest,” Chalmon said.

  “No,” said Jaquar.

  “It was your plan in the first place!” Chalmon snapped.

  The words were like a blow to the chest. He nearly staggered. “Made in the heat of anger and vengeance.”

  Chalmon lifted and dropped a shoulder. “That may very well be true, but what choice do we have? You saw what one sangvile did. Its damage multiplies rapidly. Marian is very Powerful already. She might be able to return by herself. Who knows what she could do.”

  “I am her teacher and protector. I will not allow this,” said Jaquar.

  “The Exotique Marian would not have been sent to us now if we weren’t to use her for this purpose,” Chalmon said.

  “That’s convoluted thinking,” Venetria argued. “That sounds as if you believe in fate and not free will. Why do you think that now when you never have before? Or is it only that you want to sacrifice someone else?”