Sorceress of Faith (16 page)

The
thing plunked into the hollow of Marian’s palm so heavily that it drove her arm
down and she staggered under the weight. By the time she’d braced her wrist
with her other hand and lifted both hands to waist level, the fairy had
transformed into a hawk and was flying away.

“Wait,
what—”

Look
for him in the place that called to you. Feed him the walnut
. She paused,
turning her head back, and speared Marian with a bright, glinting gaze.
I am
Sinafin. Guard my name, but call on me if you have need
. She zoomed out of
sight.

Marian
opened her hand. The heavy thing did look like a golden walnut.

A
companion. Andrew? The place that called to her—the meadow near the rocky beach
with spraying surf. She ran, slowly and awkwardly due to the great weight of
the magical nut. When she reached the meadow above the rocky beach, her breath
came fast and raggedly.

There,
in the middle of the meadow, was Tuck in his ball.

10

M
arian sprinted
to Tuck, who sat in his plastic hamster ball in the middle of the green glade
that had tempted her to stay in Lladrana.

When
she reached him, her legs simply collapsed. She thought she whimpered at the
sight of her pet. He’d pulled an orange wildflower blossom through one of the
plastic slots and sat, munching on it. In the bottom of the ball was a small
hoard of nuts and raisins, and a bit of dried-up carrot that had been in his
cheek pouches.

He
wasn’t lost. He wasn’t dead. He looked as fat and sassy as ever. Gently moving
the ball until the door was at the top, she lifted off the lid, reached in and
drew him out. Putting him against her face, she sniffed the unmistakable odor
of hamster and cedar chips, felt the softness of his fur. It stuck to her
cheek, to the track of her tears.

She
sat cross-legged and set Tuck in the folds of her skirt.

He
looked up with bright eyes and continued to eat, apparently happy to stay put.
She could have sworn he smiled. Though he was a nocturnal animal, she supposed
the circumstances—the trip through the corridor—how had he made it here?—the
new world and the food kept him interested enough to stay awake.

Marian
heard herself croon his name. “Oh Tuck, oh Tuck.”

He
just ate on.

With
a little shock, she realized she’d dropped the walnut. Looking around, she
didn’t see it; it hadn’t made a hole, and didn’t glow or anything. She bit her
lip. The feycoocu had insisted that she feed Tuck the magical nut, but what
would happen if she did? Would Tuck acclimatize better?

Could
Sinafin be trusted?

Looking
down at the small, new cut on her wrist where she and Alexa had shared the
strange sensation of mixing blood, Marian sent her first telepathic message.
Alexa,
can you hear me?

Yes
came the
immediate response.

Marian
received the vision that Alexa and Bastien were flying back to their estate on
the mainland.

Though
she didn’t need to speak aloud, Marian wet her lips.
Can Sinafin be trusted?

There
was a pause.
Sinafin can be trusted to do what is best for Lladrana
,
Alexa replied.

That
didn’t help much. But Sinafin
had
approved of Marian, and had wanted her
to have a companion.

Alexa
said,
Sinafin says that the walnut will not hurt Tuck. It will make him
better
.

I
lost it. I dropped it when I saw Tuck, I think
.

If
you have a connection, you might be able to draw it to you if you visualize it
.

Marian
stroked Tuck, but he still seemed happy to stay in her lap. In fact, he’d
curled into a ball to sleep. She closed her eyes and formed an image of the
walnut.

A
spurt of surprise came from Alexa.
So Sinafin took it. I never thought of it
after my first night here
.

What?

It’s
an atomball.

Something
in the tone of Alexa’s thoughts sparked unease in Marian.
Is it dangerous?
Sinafin said to feed it to Tuck.

She
heard Alexa’s sigh in her mind.
Just be careful. Call it slowly. Think of it
rolling to you.

Marian
did, and felt a pull at her mind as if a thread were attached to a ball she was
rolling toward herself. A moment later, something tapped the sole of her foot.
It was the atomball.
Now
it glowed.
I have it. Thank you, Alexa.

Glad
to be of help. Do you need me to stay in contact?

Marian
wanted to say yes, but decided it was cowardly and an imposition.
No
.

Feel
free to yell if you need help
, Alexa said.

That’s
what Sinafin said. Thank you both
.

Don’t
thank her until everything is all over
, Alexa said dryly.
She has her own
agenda
.

Marian
swallowed.
Thank
you,
then
.

Bye
, said Alexa,
and the telepathic connection went still.

With
both hands, Marian scooped up the golden walnut. It was the size of a real
walnut, but she didn’t know how she was going to convince Tuck to eat it. She
shifted her legs so she could put the walnut on her dress against the ground
instead of in her lap, and set it next to a sleep-snuffling Tuck.

He
unrolled. His ears perked up. The hamster crawled over the walnut several
times, from several directions, then bit in and gobbled greedily. The nut
disappeared into Tuck at an amazing rate. She thought she heard him burp, but
hamsters didn’t do that. Then he looked up at her and blinked his black eyes,
wiggled his nose and curled back up to sleep.

Marian
stayed in the meadow for a long time, petting Tuck with one finger. Both the
lovely wildflowers and the animal soothed her. The quiet seemed almost
luminescent as it sank into her bones.

When
she lifted Tuck, he felt slightly heavier, but nothing like the golden-walnut
atomball. She’d have to fashion a cage—Bossgond would help, she was sure. She
put Tuck back in his plastic ball, set the lid atop the ball but did not screw
it closed, and rose.

She
could see Bossgond’s Tower from here, and walked back to it, musing that she
now had three things from her old life. Tuck, her PDA, and a clear, plastic
hamster ball. Life was odd.

Bossgond
awaited her, arms crossed, frowning—until he saw the ball and Tuck. Then the
gleam of a true scholar lit his eyes. “What’s that?”

“This
is my hamster, Tuck, and his vehicle.”

“Vehicle?”
Bossgond reached for it.

Marian
slipped Tuck from the ball and cradled him in her hands. He didn’t stir. She
handed the ball to Bossgond.

“I
met the feycoocu,” she said casually, but kept a sharp gaze on the old
Sorcerer.

All
his attention focused back on her. “Yes? What did it look like?”

Marian
started to correct him—to call “it” a “she”—then decided against it. “First a
large frog, then a fairy.”

“Fascinating.”

“She
told me to feed Tuck—” Marian lifted the hamster for emphasis “—an atomball.”

Bossgond
took a couple of steps back, glanced a little nervously at Tuck. “An atomball?
Where did the feycoocu get an atomball? What did it look like? I’ve never heard
such a thing.”

“Tuck
ate it,” Marian said.

Eyes
wide, Bossgond jerked his chin at the stairs. “Let’s go up to my suite. I want
to study this.”

The
day had faded into evening, and the moment they walked through the door, inside
lights flared on. They were set in torch holders, but obviously magic, glowing
like the natural light of the sun. Bossgond strode to his desk and placed the
clear plastic hamster ball on it.

“This
is a very interesting substance,” he muttered, tapping at the ball. “Not
glass.”

“No.”
Marian studied Tuck, beginning to worry. He was so still, but his small back
still rose and fell with his breathing. “I need a cage for Tuck.”

Bossgond
waved a hand and a low cabinet door opened in the wall. Marian went over and
bent down, then sighed. It appeared to be an old aquarium. Tuck wouldn’t like
it. He preferred a nice plastic cage with many toys and tubes.

Bossgond
assigned Marian some “basic” lessons and spent the evening studying the plastic
ball and sleeping Tuck. He’d sworn not to hurt either one.

After
she’d demonstrated to Bossgond that she could ground herself, call fire and
cause a bean to sprout, he allowed her to work with clouds in the weather
globe. It thrilled Marian to play with the clouds. She couldn’t create them, or
make them rain, but she could push them around the globe and form images in
them—they wisped, then billowed into castles and dragons and a huge tree—the
world tree. Every culture had a symbol for the world—a globe, a serpent, an
egg, a circle, but Marian had always liked the world tree the best. With a
glance at Bossgond, she wickedly made a caricature of the man, then his Tower.

Finally
she got bored with her limitations and interrupted him as he was tickling a
sprawled Tuck’s belly. Marian had the idea that Bossgond was imagining the
hamster’s anatomy.

Alexa’s
description of the Snap earlier in the day bothered Marian. She needed more
details. “Alexa told me of the Snap today.”

“A
very interesting phenomenon, the Snap,” Bossgond said, staring at her, fingers
pyramided, tips tapping. He nodded once. “It is an event. The Exotique land
will bring you back to it.”

Marian
blinked. It was that easy? Just wait and she’d be returned automatically? That
didn’t seem right. She shook her head. “I felt the loss of my connection with
Mother Earth.” Her chin wanted to tremble so she set her jaw. “It’s gone.”
It
hurt
.

His
fingers continued to tap. “Very interesting information.” He looked at her,
then reached out and picked up a sheet of paper and a writing instrument. He
made a note. “Perhaps, then, the Snap is not a link to your planet. Perhaps
this is an effect of the Dimensional Gate.”

Now
he tapped his lips with the pen. “No Circlet is currently studying the
Dimensional Gateway, or Corridor. We will have to rely on lorebooks about the
topic.” He made more notes. “The closest thing the Tower Community has to
experts on different dimensions are me and…Jaquar Dumont, the plane-walker.” He
looked up from his pad at her.

She
knew the name, knew the man. The great-looking guy who’d tried to claim her
first. She suppressed a shiver at the memory of her reaction to his touch—the
searing certainty that somehow he was her doom. Fate, and not a nice one.

Bossgond
grunted as he studied her expression. “We won’t speak of him now.”

Marian
straightened. “
You’re
my teacher.”

“That
I am.”

“When
does the Snap occur?” She yanked the conversation back to the topic.

“It
is individual to the person.”

Marian
narrowed her eyes. “Someone must have kept a record, studied it.”

“Someone
did.”

She
released a pent-up breath. “May I have the record, please?”

He
turned to her with raised brows. “I don’t think the records we have on the
Exotiques and the Snap will illuminate you, but I will give you the
Snap
Lorebook
.” With a sly smile, he snapped his fingers and a piece of paper
appeared between them.

“That’s
it? The
Lorebook?
”

“Yes.
An Exotique usually works with the Marshalls. The last one before Alyeka was
Summoned for the Singer and the Friends of the Singer.”

That
was the prophetess, the spiritual basis of Lladrana. “So?”

“So
Exotiques have not been of a bent to record great details of the Snap, or their
passage to Lladrana. We Circlets must extrapolate. Alyeka has provided the most
detail of the experience. I trust you will report your passage also.”

“Of
course.” She went and took the sheet from him. It was hardly more than a list.

It
was the first “reading” she’d attempted since she’d bonded with Bossgond. She
had hoped it would be as easy as absorbing the language. It wasn’t. The
alphabet was subtly strange, not quite the Greco-Roman alphabet.

Bossgond
indicated the writing at the top. Squinting a little, Marian could make out the
name “Thomas Lindley,” a range of dates and a phrase.

Bossgond’s
finger underlined the phrase. “Two weeks,” he said. The words appeared a neon
white in her mind, then reshaped into English, then returned to Lladranan.

Okay,
reading would be more difficult and take time…but if she was patient, the words
and meanings might come to her.