Sorceress of Faith

by Robin D. Owens

  You did not fail Andrew. Jaquar’s deep voice echoed in her mind. He is here. He was not originally Summoned, but he came. You gave him new life. How can you think you failed him?

  Put that way, she couldn’t. She let droplets of Andrew slide from her holding, sparkle into the mind-space, throb into the heart-space—that great heart of his—swirl into the soul-space. She released him with joy.

  An arm clasped her around the waist and Power inundated her from Alexa. All the Marshalls linked with her. Marian went blind at the shock, the realization that through her the Power of all the Marshalls, all the Circlets, merged and cycled. Powerful people all, they provided Marian with all the magic she could need. Through her, they learned of one another, accepted each other. Distrust diminished with the intimate connection; trust and faith grew.

  Take my love as a sister-friend, Alexa said, and that love filled Marian, banishing darkness and uncertainty. Alexa saw her as beautiful, too—as a strong woman of fascinating Power, full of love for Andrew, full of curiosity about life. In Alexa’s image, Marian was laughing.

  Marian smiled, relaxed.

  Take my love as a mate, Jaquar said. The breath-stealing hugeness of his love roared through her like a river. She was a gorgeous woman. A woman who matched him in mind and heart. A woman who gave him joy as she learned, explored things. A woman who made him think and laugh and yearn.

  How could she doubt herself? She couldn’t. Her uncertainties vanished, defeated for now, as she gave her beloved brother new life.

  She shrugged, settling the last of him into her Power stream, ready to transfer him with care. From Bossgond and the Medicas, she saw how to weave his mind into the brain, how to help him connect and spark the electrical impulses that were thought and memory and knowledge. From Jaquar and Alexa she expanded the heart-space where Andrew’s emotions would live, sent them flowing there. And through Luthan the Chevalier Representative of the Singer, she received delicate touches from that elder woman, which mended Andrew’s spirit, settled his soul.

  Finally it was done.

  Every little iridescent iota of Andrew gone from her keeping and into his new physical shell. What lingered and connected them both was the love they had for each other.

  She slumped, black exhaustion descending, then fell into Jaquar’s strong arms.

  You are a Great Sorceress of Faith, he said, and his words comforted as darkness overwhelmed her.

  Marian didn’t think she’d been unconscious for more than a moment or two, because when she awoke, she was kneeling on the Tower floor next to Koz—Andrew. Afternoon light filtered through the windows, and circles of people surrounded her in a spiral, their hands beginning to unlink.

  “Surely this was the greatest Power Circle ever created,” a melodious male voice said near her.

  She glanced that way and found a Shieldmarshall smiling at her, pleasure and Power in his gaze.

  A Medica stroked Andrew-Koz’s hair back from his head. “We will wake him in about two hours,” the Medica said, smiling grimly. She swept a hand, indicating the room. “Combined wisdom says that the new mind must have time to settle in, but cannot be unconscious for too long or the inherent brain patterns of the past occupant will begin to overcome the new entity.”

  “The new person, my brother Andrew.”

  Dipping her head, the Medica agreed. “Andrew.”

  The shell of the Andrew whom Marian had loved all her life lay pitiful and deserted, green eyes wide and staring, face lax. Marian trembled and looked away. She couldn’t stay here.

  “I need air,” she said.

  Jaquar helped her to her feet. The rest of the Marshalls and Circlets were now participating in a single Healing Circle.

  Marian gestured to the others. “Go help.”

  “I’d rather stay with you.”

  “I won’t be a good companion.” She needed to ponder events.

  “You only have to be yourself. I’ll just accompany you.”

  She linked her hands together, afraid the trembling in them would move to her whole body. “So much has happened,” she whispered.

  When she looked at Koz she saw only a large, virile Lladranan man. She flinched.

  Jaquar hugged her. “He’s there.”

  Pulling away, Marian turned her back on the scene. “I can’t see him. I can only have faith that we accomplished the soul transfer.”

  Jaquar drew beside her, lifted her fingertips and kissed them. “You are the most amazing woman I know, and the most daring in your faith.”

  She stared at him. “I’m not—”

  “You trusted people in a different land. You learned from them. Then you even returned to a world in great danger, a world that will demand much from you. You trusted us with your Summoning and with your brother. If Alexa can be called the Guardian of Honor, you can be known as the Sorceress of Faith.”

  Marian didn’t know what to say. It felt as if a ton of responsibility was about to land on her shoulders. She didn’t have the energy for that.

  Andrew’s former shell was gone. She gulped. She’d known that body as Andrew all her life. Would it sink into the ground like Perlee’s? Would she miss it, mourn it, when she might have the real Andrew with her?

  She shook the weird notions off.

  Chants rose around them. Healing Power generated its own sweet smell that mixed with the sweat of those working, and the lingering stench of the monsters’ bodily fluids.

  “I want fresh air,” she said.

  He glanced at the open door of the Tower and the area beyond. “It should be safe. The Song knows, the Marshalls don’t leave a scrap of the horrors around.”

  “I’m too tired to go far,” she said.

  “I’ll be with you.” He took her arm.

  This time she didn’t argue. She walked as steadily as she could outside, and her left foot still dragged a bit—in all the commotion she had forgotten to tell anyone about it.

  “Why are you limping?” asked Jaquar.

  “A sangvile—um—bite.”

  Jaquar swore and scooped her up. He whisked her back inside and to the Marshalls’ Healing Circle. Marian didn’t like being the center of attention again, but was pleased when she felt the sparkling connection with the Marshalls. She’d have to ensure the Tower Community bonded together better. Her wound was quickly healed, though a Medica scolded her and told her that her ankle would be weak for several days.

  The atmosphere in the Tower was even more oppressive. Too many Lladranans. There were only two Earth people, herself and Alexa—even Andrew had a Lladranan body, and how much would that change him? She had faith that he’d only become a better person.

  “My ankle is better enough to walk,” she muttered to Jaquar, and linked fingers with him.

  He looked at her, smiling. “Thank you.”

  “For forgiving you?” she asked.

  “You have?”

  She kept silent until they left the Tower and emerged into the strong late-afternoon sunlight. There she stopped to close her eyes and soak it up. The light refreshed her, reminded her she was alive. And so was Andrew.

  When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Perlee’s sword in the ground. Next to it was Koz’s. As her gaze swept the area, she saw about twenty other upright swords, some on the flagstones between the stands. None in the series of pentacles.

  “All my fault,” she whispered.

  “I don’t think so,” said a voice behind her.

  It was Chalmon. He and Venetria stood, looking bedraggled and exhausted, just outside the Tower door.

  Jaquar stepped in front of her. “What do you want?”

  “To apologize to Exotique Circlet of the Fifth Degree Marian Harasta,” said Chalmon.

  “You can’t apologize for something that you don’t regret,” Marian said, stepping up to join Jaquar. When she thought of what this man and his cohorts had done, her anger spiked.

  Chalmon eyed her warily. “That’s true.” He swallowed visibly
. “And I still think that the knowledge we received was incalculable and the injury you did the nest saved many lives.” He inhaled deeply. “But we were wrong to use you so, without your knowledge, and I apologize for that. I will always carry the burden of guilt that I was a moral coward and took the easy way out to forestall the consequences I feared.”

  From what she’d garnered through the link she had with Chalmon and Venetria, Marian didn’t think anything about Sending her to the maw was easy for anyone. And Chalmon had been afraid the master and the monsters would invade Venetria’s island and destroy his lover. Fear for a loved one made a person do strange things. Like die as Koz did. Like transfer a beloved brother’s soul and spirit and heart into a different body.

  Marian might understand why Chalmon had acted as he did, but she wouldn’t forgive him anytime soon. She’d never trust him.

  Turning to Jaquar, Chalmon bowed deeply. “And I apologize to you, Jaquar. I used your name to deceive Marian. I caused her to believe you betrayed her. I damaged your relationship with her.”

  Jaquar grunted. “Tell us why you don’t think the attack was specifically because of Marian.”

  “I’m sure the Dark wants the Exotiques…neutralized. But the next was releasing sangviles,” Chalmon said simply. “Those are particularly dangerous to the Tower Community. It’s reasonable that the master had targeted this island as a stronghold for the horrors all along. In the past it has been rarely used, but is central to the current Towers.” He shrugged. “I’d hate to think that the Dark is resourceful enough to target this island in two days. The timing may be due to Marian, but I believe everything had been planned.”

  He glanced around, his gaze lingering on the upright swords. “Parteger Island will never be the same. Nor should it be. I believe Circlet Marian will lead us now.”

  “Lead!” Marian exclaimed.

  Chalmon’s lips curved in a smile-grimace. “Organize us, then. We have been lax in cooperating, like spoiled children.”

  Marian was shaking her head, but Jaquar squeezed her fingers. She was torn by the idea—pleased and proud. But the weight of that responsibility pinned her heart.

  “Excellent reasoning regarding today’s attack, Chalmon,” Jaquar said. His smile was forced, all teeth. “Now go.”

  “I don’t know if his logic is sound,” Marian said. Her damn self-doubt about her abilities was back.

  “Then, know this,” Chalmon said quietly. “Since you arrived, and your brother, too, Amee’s Song is stronger. For that I will always thank you. And know also that I do not forget my debt to you. What I cannot pay in zhiv, I will promise in favors. My life is yours should you ever need it.” He bowed and turned back to the Tower door, hesitating as if bracing for more work with others who disliked him. Then he squared his shoulders and went inside.

  After Venetria watched him go, she gave Marian a strained smile. “I apologize, too. I knew what we did was wrong. I have no excuses. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for my own actions.” She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. “My life is yours, too, Marian. Just direct me in any way.” She curtsied deeply and followed Chalmon.

  Jaquar heaved a sigh. “Well, that interrupted my romantic walk with you.”

  Marian smiled, pressed his hand. “We were supposed to be on a romantic walk?”

  Bringing her closer, Jaquar pulled her hand through his arm and began strolling again. “Yes, calming, uplifting, romantic.”

  “All that?”

  His eyes were serious. “Everything I can give you, Marian.”

  He smiled. “Parteger Island is really very pretty. Quite pastoral beyond the theater and Tower.” He waved a hand. “Meadows of flowers, orchards of fruit, groves of trees…”

  “Your eloquence amazes me.”

  He chuckled with her. “So I’m trite.” His tone turned serious. “You often leave me without words, Marian.”

  They had reached the outermost large pentacle. Jaquar grasped her other hand so that they stood facing each other. The heat from the sun wrapped around them, warmed the air.

  His face was more lined than when she first met him. His eyes seemed bluer, his gaze definitely wiser. He’d suffered and survived.

  As she had.

  As Andrew had.

  They all lived.

  Even the streaks in his hair looked slightly wider than they had when he first stared down at her in the Marshalls’ Temple.

  “Our Song has revived, Marian,” he whispered. “Listen to it.”

  She dropped her gaze and let the music surge around her, through her, cycle between them. It grew with every heartbeat, with every breath, with every moment her hands touched his. A Song more beautiful than she’d ever heard.

  “Dance with me, beautiful Marian,” he said, and led her into a waltz.

  She closed her eyes and listened to their Song, and as she did, all the things he’d said and felt about her swirled through her bringing balm. He’d sent all his love, all his strength to her in her moment of need. He’d named her as mate—and Sorceress of Faith.

  The tenderness now, of his arms, his steps, his body leaning into hers seemed like an unending caress.

  The waltz ended too soon.

  Marian met his eyes, saw his yearning.

  “I love you,” he said.

  She closed her eyes. “I know. I care for you.” She swallowed. “Deeply.”

  He brushed a kiss across her mouth, and Marian’s lips tingled, heat bloomed within her.

  Jaquar smiled. “We match, Fifth Degree Circlet Marian.” We should Pair-bond.

  A corner of her mouth lifted. “After seeing what happened to Koz and Perlee, I am doubtful.”

  He shook his head. “They were truly unlucky.” He waved a hand at a Chevalier pacing the opening of the theater, on guard. “But look at Pascal. He is Paired with Marwey and neither would give that up. And all the Marshalls—”

  Marian put her fingers over his lips to stop his words. “I must grow accustomed to my new life here first—”

  “An excellent idea,” Bossgond said. He tapped Jaquar on the shoulder. “Our wounded and Medicas must stay for a while, and the Marshalls would like you to restore the water lines.”

  They all walked back to the Tower, but when she reached the looming building, Marian tugged at her hands and Jaquar stopped.

  She said, “The day is lovely. Peaceful. Let me consider my new life. Please give me a few moments alone.”

  He frowned and reluctantly let her go.

  Thinking to see some of the aspects of the island that Jaquar had described, Marian circled the Tower. She breathed in the fragrant air of Amee but soon wanted to be near Jaquar again.

  She’d just decided to go back when she stumbled straight into the arms of the cowled master.

  37

  She screamed, but it was too late.

  The master raised a hand. The blow would kill her.

  “I cry a sorcerous duel, now!” Bossgond shouted as he and Jaquar ran around the Tower corner.

  Jaquar ran toward her. Bossgond tackled and sat on him.

  The master, Mahlyar, stilled. His fetid breath whistled in her face. The tentacles on his face squirmed.

  People sprinted out of the Tower, stopped.

  “Dark Power or no, you are bound to a duel, Mahlyar, especially here on Parteger Island, the common gathering place of all the Tower Community, which you once were part of. I cry duel!” Bossgond yelled between panting breaths as he restrained Jaquar.

  Not death at the master’s hands, Marian thought. Or at least, not right now. Apparently she had a chance, pitiful though it might be.

  Check your pockets, Jaquar advised. He’d stopped struggling. You are the Sorceress of Faith. You can destroy it.

  Fight. Kill. Destroy. All the things she’d never wanted to do, never practiced, shrank from. She had to do it now.

  “Your pocket!” Jaquar reminded.

  She remembered. She had the brithenwood wand. The wand! She released
a sigh of relief as she whipped it out.

  The master laughed, clapped his hands. “Duel force field, nothing in and nothing out.”

  Jaquar said, Remember your Power, your mastery over Weather elements. Storm and—

  A clear dome of rippling energy snapped over them and cut Jaquar’s instructions off. Her world narrowed to herself and Mahlyar and the fight that would take place in a circle of fifteen feet.

  She stood panting, eyeing him like a rabbit eyes a mountain lion, nearly petrified with fear. Fatalistically, she decided to do her best, at least cripple him enough that when the forcefield was raised, Alexa and the others could get him.

  Even as she thought this, he waved a crooked, pus-laden finger in the air and made a door. It cracked open and dark slanted into the circle in beams. The dark death ray again…

  She met its mad gaze. It was not human nor animal. It was not a “he.”

  “I can escape home,” it said, so softly she thought only she could hear. “Or even better, I can bring others through after I’ve sucked your Power and eaten your brain.”

  A shudder seized her. She had to stand. She had to fight.

  She had to win.

  “You are such a failure, Marian,” Mahlyar said, and his voice was all Candace—and others.

  The words were thrown at her again and again, and with them images of people throughout her life who’d found her wanting by standards other than Marian’s own. A teacher, a society debutante, another grad student, Jack Wilse…

  “Enough!” she screamed. Screaming felt good.

  She advanced with her wand.

  The whispers of failure circled her again, and this time the visuals had solidified into three-dimensional people, all tall enough to make her feel childlike, and flinging failure after failure at her.

  But this tactic wouldn’t work. She had fought this battle earlier. Hadn’t Bossgond bolstered her confidence? Hadn’t Jaquar just named her the Sorceress of Faith? And besides that outside validation, she had her own true self-esteem.