Sorceress of Faith

by Robin D. Owens

  Choking, Jaquar flung up a hand in what Marian recognized as the gesture of a fencer when hit. “That isn’t necessary.”

  “Then the Tower needs a presence here in the Castle. Permanent rooms. To work with the Marshalls and the Castleton City Guildfolk.” Alexa’s glance speared Marian. “Try to integrate the Tower Community with the Marshalls.”

  Marian opened her mouth, closed it, then stood.

  Jaquar reached out and took her hand, raised it to his lips. “For tonight I’ll stay with Marian.” He paused.

  When she didn’t contradict him, she felt some tension leave his stiff body.

  “Tomorrow we can tour the Castle and choose rooms for the Tower Community, should any wish to come and stay.”

  “I’ll expect you at the Marshalls’ Council Meeting tomorrow morning,” Alexa said.

  “Of course. I’ll be there.”

  The outside door opened, and as fresh, cool night air poured in, Marian felt some of the negative emotions in the room flow out—given a little push by Alexa and some of the Chevaliers. Marian was impressed at the teamwork, the willingness to help. Her vision shifted slightly and she heard Power—a ready tune of support from the flying knights encased Alexa, and washed to Marian, too, out of respect for Alexa and her obvious acceptance of Marian. No tune reached Jaquar.

  Sinafin yipped. That was very well done. It is a good start. She approved.

  Marian saw some Chevaliers nod and realized the feycoocu had broadcast the comment.

  A middle-aged, sturdy woman of obvious authority strode to them.

  Alexa inclined her head to the woman, gestured to Alexa. “Lady Hallard, Representative of the Chevaliers to the Communities of Lladrana, let me introduce you to Exotique Scholar Marian Harasta.”

  The woman’s dark brown eyes studied Marian. She nodded once, briskly, and shot out her hand. Marian untwined her fingers from Jaquar’s and took the woman’s hand, found it hard with calluses. Obviously this woman didn’t send her Chevaliers into battle without her—she led her Chevaliers in battle.

  “Salutations, Marian, pleased to meet you.” She dipped her head at Jaquar. “Sorcerer Circlet Dumont, good to see you. We need all the help we can get.” She hesitated, then tramped away to the bar and the tough, rangy Chevalier that wore her colors—gray and yellow.

  “Let’s go now,” Alexa muttered. “Before everyone in Castleton shows up to meet you and ask you questions. At least you speak the language well,” she said enviously. “Better than I do.”

  She swept out in front of them. Jaquar plucked up his hat and set it on his head, left the booth and stepped aside for Marian, then brought up the rear. Marian was amused that she was sandwiched protectively between the two.

  No one stopped them.

  The night air was brisk, the sky magnificently star-studded. The air smelled pure and with her inhalations, Marian tasted Song—the tang of the City, the mainland of Lladrana.

  Once they left the vicinity of the Nom de Nom, the streets and squares were quiet, though not dark. Plenty of windows were lit, showing that the culture wasn’t simply dawn-to-dusk.

  Marian and Alexa walked together and Jaquar trailed behind, talking with Sinafin who had changed into warhawk form when none of them were looking and rode on his shoulder.

  Soon they reached the road to the Castle. It was uphill. Marian straightened her spine and tried not to think of her aching feet. At least the magical slippers had wonderful arch support.

  Alexa took off at a rapid pace. Valiantly, Marian kept up. “Alexa,” Marian said in English, trying to keep a whine from her voice. “Can you slow down a little? I walked two hours to a beach, practiced Power lessons for another three or four, then rode lightning here.” She glanced back at Jaquar, who was talking to Sinafin. “Not to mention…other activities. My body feels like…” Her muscles felt whipped, but her inner core felt glowing at riding lightning and the sex afterward.

  “Oh? Sorry. Those ‘other activities’ can really wear a person out.” Alexa grinned up at Marian.

  “Yes. How far is it?”

  “To the Castle? About two miles.”

  Marian suppressed a groan, but Alexa sensed it anyway. “Not used to walking, eh?”

  “No. Bus.”

  “Car.” Alexa sighed. “I’m a bad horsewoman. Of course, since I used to be a terrible horsewoman, that means I’m improving. I haven’t ridden alone on volaranback lately, not since I broke my arm again.” She shook her head. “I fall off. Everyone, including the volarans, is appalled. Maybe I have an inner ear problem. No, can’t be that because the jerir got in my ears all three times and that would have healed.”

  She continued talking, but Marian paid no mind as she struggled to grasp the wisps of memories that had come from Alexa during their blood-bond. “Wait!” Alexa stopped, Marian gestured to continue walking and they did, but she said, “The jerir pool—a healing pool. It healed awful wounds.”

  “Yes, it did,” said Alexa. “And little cuts and scrapes, and bruises. Everything. We used all the benefits up and had to send the remaining sludge away. I think to some island where a Circlet could study it.” She put her hand on Marian’s arm. “But I don’t know how jerir is for diseases. You might want to speak to the Castle Medica or Swordmarshall Thealia. I know they’re working with a black-and-white baby who swallowed some jerir. Black-and-whites usually have bad Power flow, but whether that translates into bad brain synapses or what, I don’t know.”

  “Maybe, just maybe…” Marian whispered.

  “Marian, if jerir was a cure-all for black-and-white problems or anything else, I assure you, rare as it is, it would still be used a lot.”

  Marian sniffed back hopeful tears that had lodged in her throat. “You’re right, of course. But it’s an avenue to explore.”

  “Of course.” Alex stared at Marian. “You really do look exhausted.”

  “Thanks a lot.” Marian shrugged. “I ache.”

  “The Castle baths are spring fed. Hot springs,” Alexa said. She skipped a little up the road.

  Marian nearly closed her eyes at the energy radiating from the woman.

  “Hot springs,” Marian repeated reverently.

  “Yup. The best are the Chevaliers’ baths in the bottom of Horseshoe Hall. Efficacious minerals, good Powerful soothing spells, a series of different temperature pools.” Alexa waved. “Whatever you need.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “They’re also the busiest. Probably full right now. Co-ed bathing.” Alexa slid a glance Marian’s way.

  Marian was shaking her head.

  “Yeah, I know, I don’t care for it, either. The Marshalls have a fancy public bath in the bottom of the Keep—pretty mosaic tiles, greenery.” She cocked her head. “No one’s there right now. It’s co-ed, too, so Jaquar can keep you company. Between the two of you, you could ward the door and make it private.” Alexa wiggled her brows, then sobered. “Marian, you do know that every bond you make—with Bossgond, the blood-bond I forced you into—”

  “Don’t you say that! I agreed.”

  “You didn’t—don’t—know all the ramifications—”

  “Maybe not, but I’m an adult. Don’t take my choices away from me. I don’t want you feeling guilty over this.”

  “Oh, all right. But to continue my warning from my vast experience of three months—every bond you make with someone here, with Amee itself, will tie you here, and I know that’s not what you want. You have one helluva a Song going with Jaquar already.”

  “I know.”

  “Just saying—”

  “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.” I have to be.

  21

  Whether Jaquar had noticed that their pace had sped up, Marian’s agitated voice or a ruffling of the Song he shared with her, he caught up and walked with them.

  Actually, he strutted. “The feycoocu has graced me with the gift of her name.”

  Marian and Alexa shared a glance. “Sinafin?” they asked in unison, looki
ng at the bird.

  Jaquar’s mouth twisted. “I should have known both of you knew it.”

  Of course, said Sinafin. They are Exotiques. All the Exotiques will know my name.

  His eyes narrowed with calculation.

  “That reminds me,” Marian said, switching back to Lladranan. “The woman we met at the Nom de Nom, Perlee Desolly, looks as if she has some Exotique blood. I was under the impression that children from Exotique-Lladranan unions are rare.”

  “True,” Alexa said. “But they do occur. My estate—the one gifted me as an Exotique—and you’ll get one and a salary, too, Marian—was established by an Exotique who had children.” Alexa stared straight ahead. “I doubt Bastien and I will have children. It’s not good to bring children into the world when both parents are fighters.” She shrugged. “And if Lladrana ever wins this war, I still don’t think we’d be blessed. During the two visions I had of my life on Earth or my life here, children were not in my future. We practice birth control, anyway.”

  “How?” asked Marian.

  Now Alexa turned her head and smiled. “Really a curious person, aren’t you, Marian.”

  Marian was glad the dark would not show her flush. “Yes.”

  “Only to be expected, you being an academic and all. But I would have thought that Jaquar would say something about it—or Bossgond, even.”

  Marian stared at Jaquar’s profile. “They didn’t.”

  Jaquar shrugged. “It didn’t come up. I know Marian can’t stay. I did what was necessary.” Sinafin asked him something and he turned his head to talk with her.

  “Powerful people—such as Marshalls or Circlets—can control bodily functions. During sex we usually turn up the body heat and kill the little swimmers.”

  “Sperm?” Marian asked.

  “That’s it,” Alexa replied cheerfully. “Fry ’em to hell.” She waved her hand. “Poof. They’re gone.”

  “Interesting,” Marian said. She was almost distracted from the topic she wanted to pursue. “Has anyone ever kept track of all the mixed bloodlines through genealogy?”

  “Like an Exotique descendants’ Lorebook?” Alexa asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know.”

  Marian caught Jaquar’s attention and repeated the question.

  “I haven’t heard of any,” he said, and picked up the pace so that Alexa nearly had to run.

  “Didn’t your parents ever discuss your heritage with you?” asked Alexa. She wasn’t even panting.

  “No. I was abandoned as a child. In Krache.” He gave a humorless smile. “A seaport with few decent people. My adoptive parents found me living in the streets there.”

  “Oh,” Alexa said. “Sorry.”

  Sinafin rubbed her feathered head against his cheek, crooning.

  Alexa stared at Jaquar, then shook her head. “Well, at least I don’t have to look at that hat anymore. Bastien made it for himself, you know. Really ugly hat.”

  Marian followed the new conversational lead. “Very ugly hat. Uglier than your purple muff.”

  Sinafin clicked her beak in amusement.

  They arrived at the main gate of the Castle. The Marshalls’ Castle. Marian had visited a couple of castles in France, but this one looked more like Windsor than a French chateau.

  There was a drawbridge, and the edge of the iron portcullis showed near the top of the entryway. The hallway beyond the gate must have been at least fifteen feet long, leading into a courtyard.

  Since Jaquar and Alexa walked quickly and the buildings overshadowed the grassy courtyard, details were lost.

  Alexa headed toward the far door of the yard. “This is the lower ward,” she said. Pulling her jade baton from its sheath, she pointed it at a large, square wooden door with iron strap-work and hummed two notes. The door banged open. Marian caught horrified looks on the faces of two uniformed soldiers as they flattened themselves against the inner wall.

  “Sorry,” Alexa said. “I didn’t know anyone was minding the door.” She slipped her baton back in its sheath and stepped over the foot-high threshold of the door.

  Jaquar chuckled and did the same.

  As Marian followed she met the eyes of the soldiers—both middle-aged, one man and one woman—and found them staring at Jaquar, then her, mouths open.

  More gossip would circulate, for certain.

  Alexa waved to the massive Keep. “Thealia’s Tower is the closest, mine is behind hers, overlooking the cliff.” She angled toward it.

  This yard wasn’t grass like the previous one, but stone. A huge round building about three stories high dominated the far end.

  Jaquar held out his hand and Marian took it. He gazed down at her, smiling. Did she look as lost as she felt at this turn of events?

  Sinafin emitted a piercing cry and Marian wondered if Alexa had kept track of all of Sinafin’s forms; it seemed the creature had an infinite variety. The hawk flew across the yard.

  “She’s going to Bastien and his laboring volaran,” Alexa said.

  “This is Temple Ward,” Jaquar said. He gestured to the round building. “That’s the Temple where the Marshalls Summoned you.”

  Memory images clicked into place of the gigantic round room, a pentacle, an altar. “If I want to return to Earth, should I leave from there?”

  Alexa halted, glanced back at them. “Probably best. The Marshalls are the strongest team in the country. I don’t think a band of Circlets would have the experience in blending their Power to accomplish such a difficult and delicate task. Or you can wait for the Snap.”

  “I’ll figure out how to recompense you for sending me home before I leave. The timing of the Snap is too uncertain,” Marian said.

  They entered a cloister walk of open stonework arches that ran along most of the Keep, then went to the far Tower, where there was a door. Alexa ushered them through and into a large hallway. She indicated the left wall. “That’s the Marshalls’ Council Room.” When they came to an intersecting corridor—another wide hall—Alexa turned left. “The hall at the end of the building opening to the right leads to my tower. I’ll show you to your suite, then I think I’ll check on Bastien in the volaran stables.”

  So they traversed the corridors and mounted the stairs in Alexa’s tower. As in Jaquar’s Tower, the steps were a tight spiral of stone.

  Alexa crossed the circular inner entryway to a door and flung it open, then turned left down a dim, narrow passage and threw open another door. “Your rooms. Be glad the Marshalls only used an incredible amount of purple in my suite.” She grinned at Jaquar. “You should know lighting and housekeeping spells—you might want to dust.” Then she hurried away.

  Whistling several notes, Jaquar entered as light flickered in crystal orbs on the walls.

  “It’s beautiful,” Marian said. She stared into a richly colored bedroom—rugs of complementary patterns, a wide expanse of windows that followed the curve of the tower. To her right was a huge canopy bed, complete with curtains.

  Marian stared at the bed. The heat of her blood seemed to rise until it pulsed just under her skin, sensitizing every nerve.

  She was intensely aware of Jaquar standing beside her, though she didn’t turn to look at him. She could hear his every breath, sense the waves of his aura, and the melody between them rolled like thunder in her ears, in her heart. She barely breathed herself, afraid that moving might shatter her mind, the sensory input was so great. She didn’t know how she stood the feeling throbbing between them.

  “I can’t,” she whispered in English.

  But he must have known it was denial.

  His footsteps were mere brushes of shoe upon thick rug, yet she heard them…retreating. At the door, he murmured, “I’ll be in the Keep baths at the lowest level. Follow our Song if you wish to join me.”

  A slight disturbance of air indicated the opening and shutting of the door.

  Marian trembled violently, took one step, two, toward the bed. Fell across it. She panted and tears le
aked from under her eyelids. She lay there for a moment, doing nothing but existing, as if her mind spun in starry space, scattered into electrical impulses that were stars, no thought, only being.

  She was afraid her heart had developed a small crack that could wrench it in two. One part of her longed to stay in Lladrana, become a Sorceress, fulfill her natural potential…learn more of Jaquar.

  The other part would always need Andrew—for brotherly love, to protect and be protected. Her family.

  How could she merge the two?

  She could return to Earth and stay.

  She could return to Earth, explain everything to Andrew and return to Lladrana.

  She could stay in Lladrana—but, no, that was not truly an option.

  The most exciting, the most frightening possibility of all was to convince Andrew to return to Lladrana with her. But could she? What if he would live longer and better on Earth? What if there really was no hope for him on Lladrana? What if she couldn’t come back, let alone bring Andrew with her? What price would they pay to return?

  And why was she thinking of all these abstruse matters when there was a sexy hunk of man waiting to pleasure her in the wet, steamy, exotic baths…? Because she was afraid her feelings for Jaquar played a big part in her decision.

  But, of course, there was such a thing as thinking too much, overanalyzing. That was exactly what she was doing now.

  Marian stretched, and grit pricked her skin—dust from the road? Caked mud from lovemaking in the field? Electricity of her body attracting particles during the lightning ride? Probably all three.

  She hopped from the bed and did a quick exploration of the tower suite. She was becoming well informed about tower living arrangements. This one had a bathroom with a shower, but no bathtub, as usual.

  Definitely time for a wash.

  Humming—and realizing she was lilting a portion of the tune that linked her to Jaquar—Marian let the notes seep into her, lead her feet instinctively. An interesting alternative to thinking—simply following instinct. She seemed to be much more tied to the world and people and Songs here than on Earth.