Sorceress of Faith (22 page)

As
soon as her balance was steady, she pulled away and his arms dropped from her.
She strode across the parquet floor.

“Don’t
cross the circle!” he ordered.

It
didn’t seem smart to breach magic. She’d already walked down a star-point and
was near the circle that surrounded the pentagram. She crossed her arms, turned
back and scowled at him.

“I
didn’t agree to be your student.”

He
raised his brows. “I didn’t ask that you be my pupil. That was arranged by
Bossgond and the feycoocu. Two beings who should not be crossed.” His hand
dipped to a pocket near his belt. He withdrew his fingers, holding a stick
slightly larger than his hand. With a flick, the rod lengthened and thickened
until it was a seven-foot staff of smooth and gleaming white-gold. Atop the
staff was a
real
miniature cloud that wisped and flowed with the
currents of air in the room. Or maybe from Jaquar’s emotions. It was looking
like a thundercloud.

Excellent
trick. Marian tightened her jaw to keep her mouth from falling open. She itched
to examine the wand up close. How would it feel to keep a cloud in your pocket?
To what use could you put such an item? The notion captivated.

He
tipped the staff to the star-point to her left. A
crack
and flash of
lightning and the whole pentacle smoked gray, then turned into a silver pattern
inset in the floor.

“This
is my ritual room. Let’s descend to my study. I have my Scholar planet spheres
in storage there. You can use them. Today I’ll want to judge the scope of your
Power. If you are as well versed as Bossgond believes, we can start your
practicum outside tomorrow.”

She
could feel her eyes round, her heartbeat rushed loud in her ears. Outside—that
meant with real weather. Wind. Clouds. Ocean. Thunder. She focused on the cloud
hovering atop his staff.

He
chuckled. “Bossgond said you were particularly adept with Lightning. But we
will start, as always, with Wind and clouds.”

“Of
course,” she said, trying to be calm.

A
rustling came from her gown and Tuck popped his head out of the pocket. He
fixed his eyes on Jaquar. “I am hungry.”

Jaquar
scowled, cradled his hurt left hand against his chest. “What are you doing
here,
mouse
?”

Tuck
issued a miniature growl she’d never heard before. “I am Marian’s companion. I
am a hamster,” he squeaked. “I eat nuts, and fruit and
atomballs
.” It
sounded like a challenge.

Jaquar
blinked, then he flung back his head and laughed.

“So
you do.” He set his wand aside to stand by itself and snapped his fingers at
Tuck. “Come here so I can meet my guest and provide for him well.”

Tuck
narrowed his eyes, cocked his head.
Take me to him, please
.

Marian
started at the tiny voice in her mind. Tuck’s voice. She froze. Another thing
that was far out of her experience. Having a magical shapeshifter from another
world, or an old Sorcerer speak to her mind-to-mind was far less shocking than
hearing her hamster. Blindly, she reached into her pocket, closing her fingers
gently around his soft fur and sturdy little body. She cupped her hands so he
could sit in them. As she walked to Jaquar, Tuck rode as if he were a king.
King of the hamsters?

Incredible.

She
stopped within a couple of feet of Jaquar, eyeing him warily. He scrutinized
Tuck, who wore his hamster-Buddha aspect. Tinkling music emanated from him. She
almost expected Tuck to spout wise instructions.

“May
I pick you up? I’ll be careful,” Jaquar said to Tuck.

“Yes,”
Tuck said.

Jaquar
slid his hands under Marian’s. A ripple of hot notes licked between them.
Jaquar’s deep-blue eyes met hers and they stood, linked by music and warmth and
gaze. The world, even Tuck, seemed to fall away until only Jaquar mattered.

Tuck
nipped at her right index finger and Marian gasped, jerked and spilled the
hamster into Jaquar’s steady hands.

Even
as she stepped back, Jaquar was lifting the hamster to eye level, studying him.

“I’d
like to see all of you,” Jaquar said, and turned Tuck to look at his belly,
check his ears, even look at his back end under his stubby tale. Then Jaquar
peered at the hamster’s ears and eyes. “Not a mouse, not a rat,” Jaquar
murmured. “Could you open your mouth?”

Marian
said, “Bossgond has representations of Tuck, perhaps even of his internal
organs and skeleton. I’d prefer you ask Bossgond for the
Hamster Lorebook
instead of prodding Tuck.”

Jaquar
didn’t look at her but raised his eyebrows. “And what would Master Tuck
prefer?”

Tuck
preened. “Food,” he said.

Laughing
again, Jaquar said, “We’ll get some for you.” He placed Tuck on his left
shoulder, took the staff and strode from the pentacle to a door in the far
wall.

Unlike
Bossgond’s Tower, Jaquar’s was octagonal. Marian wasn’t sure what that said
about him. From what she’d read, when a Sorcerer or Sorceress raised a Tower,
it came from the image of the “perfect” Tower in their mind. So did the shape
indicate that the man had many angles?

“I
don’t have any food in this room. Let’s go down to my study.” He opened the
door, and instead of a hall and stairway winding around the full building like
Bossgond’s, Marian saw a tiny circular stair built into its own round Tower,
straight up and down. It would be steep.

“Wait,”
Marian said, staring at the empty center of the circle. She frowned. “Once
again I’ve been transported without any of my belongings.”

Jaquar
tilted his head. “I have some bespelled cloth you could make into gowns, if you
know how.”

“I
don’t.” To her dismay she felt a sting at the back of her eyes. She
straightened her spine, waved at him to go on.

His
face softened. “I’m sure Bossgond will send your things with my volaran.”

That
hadn’t occurred to Marian; she still fumbled with small daily strategies of
planning and doing. Irritated at herself, she nodded at Jaquar and said, “Of
course.” She walked over to the door and waited for him to descend.

“The
door will close and lock behind you automatically,” Jaquar said, his voice
carrying up from the shadowy stairway. “I’m sorry to be discourteous, but I
would prefer that I know you better before I give you the Songspell to my
ritual room.”

“Naturally,”
Marian said. How could such a thing be discourteous? She hated when people
messed with her stuff; it was one reason she lived alone. She reached out and
found a pipelike rail against the curved wall. Passing a window, she looked
out. Bossgond’s Tower had been five stories high, and this one looked to be the
same. Was the mass of a Tower also the measure of the Sorcerer’s Power?
Jaquar’s ritual room hadn’t been as large as Bossgond’s. But it had been more
beautiful. Airier, with pairs of long pointed windows around the walls.

Since
her new gown lifted itself from her feet, keeping her from tripping, Marian had
no trouble with the stairs, except that they were in such a small space.
Claustrophobia had rarely bothered her before, but perhaps that was another
change. She seemed to metamorphose daily, perhaps even moment to moment, as if
she unfurled and tried new butterfly wings.

The
pleasant fancy kept her mind occupied until she reached the lower floor of
Jaquar’s study.

She
entered to find this room was much like the one above, with pointed-arched
floor-to-ceiling windows in every wall, but the chamber was larger by about a
third. The octagonal proportions were lovely, though it had fewer shelves than
Bossgond’s study, due to the magnificent windows. She could see the whole room;
it wasn’t a partitioned loft with study, sleeping space and tiny kitchen as
Bossgond’s had been. Again the floor was parquet strips in an elegant pattern.

Jaquar
stood at a pretty sideboard, wooden with a top of colorful tiles. One of the
tiles glowed red-hot under a teakettle.

Marian’s
mouth watered. She could almost taste tea—wanted it more than coffee. Tea was a
comfort drink.

At
a small table next to the sideboard, Tuck sat. “Food,” he demanded.

Slanting
a glance at Marian, Jaquar said, “Food?”

“Nuts,
fruit. A bit of soft cheese. Some grains and greens, dried vegetables and
seeds.”

With
a gesture, a large china bowl appeared on the table with Tuck. It was filled
with various nuts, many of which Marian didn’t recognize.

Tuck
cheeped in delight, hoisted himself over the rim and plunged into the bowl,
scattering nuts. Jaquar shook his head and chuckled. “He really did dive into
his food.”

“Yes.”
Marian found herself smiling back at him. “He really did.”

The
kettle whistled and Jaquar poured water into a teapot. Matching mugs sat on the
sideboard. He handed a cup to Marian. “Let us sit. The tea will come when it is
ready.”

She
wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but followed Jaquar to a couple of
large, soft chairs made of pillows. They were set before windows looking out on
a view across the island and to the western ocean, not toward Lladrana. Marian
realized from the shine of the floor that he’d moved the chairs to this pair of
windows from across the room—and recently. Sensing that it had something to do
with his lost parents, she said nothing.

Jaquar
sat and stretched out his legs. “Tell me what you want to learn, Marian.”

He
almost sounded like a departmental counselor. But his voice was too much a
tool—even more than a professor’s voice was—to belong to a counselor, and she
thought he probed more sharply than any counselor would. Less interested in her
and her wants and needs than how she might fit into his plans. Her stomach
tightened. She hadn’t had a return of the strange feeling that he was a
dangerous threat, but she wouldn’t forget it. Still, there shouldn’t be
anything wrong with honesty. Perhaps it would prompt him to be open in return.

“I
want to find a cure for my brother’s disease and take it back to Exotique
Terre.”

He
stared at her in surprise.

“Bossgond
didn’t tell you?” she asked.

“No.”
Jaquar’s voice was a mere whisper. “You don’t intend to stay here in Amee,
then?”

She
narrowed her eyes. “No. More than that, if the Snap doesn’t happen within the
next few weeks, I’ll be asking for help to return to my home. My brother has a
degenerative disease.”

“I’m
sorry,” Jaquar said, and she thought he meant it.

“And
what do you want of me?” she asked.

14

J
aquar’s eyes
widened. He opened his mouth, then shut it, and his lips shaped a grim line.
When he met her gaze, his was darkly serious. “What do I want from you? I wish
you to progress rapidly to Circlet status.” A corner of his mouth kicked up.
“Despite what Bossgond says, and your spectacular demonstration of Power this
morning, I do not believe that you learn so quickly.”

“Oh?
And how long did it take for Alexa to become a Marshall?”

His
head jerked back in surprise. “I, uh—” He blinked, then looked as if he were
calculating.

“The
Marshalls have Tests, too, don’t they?”

“Yes,
yes they do.” Again he half smiled. “Many would say they have the hardest Tests
in all of Lladrana. Alyeka was Tested the moment she arrived and had passed by
the time she went to bed. Say, three hours.”

Marian
stared at him, struggling to keep atop the discussion. She recalled what Alexa
had said had happened the first night she was in Lladrana. “But it cost her—her
hair turned white.”

Jaquar
inclined his head. “Very true, and though she became a Marshall at that time,
it took her weeks to develop her Power, to become a Marshall in more than title
only. I may be wrong, you may be extremely quick.” He shrugged. “You
are
more mature than most Scholars who are so innately Powerful.”

“I’ve
been told that the…Song…and your Tower Community chose me in some way. That I
heard the Summoning and answered it because I fit your requirements.”

“Also
correct,” he said.

At
that point, the teapot sailed between them. It went first to Jaquar. He held
out his mug and the teapot tipped, pouring a golden-brown stream of liquid into
his cup, stopping when it was about a quarter-inch from the top. Then the pot
slowly turned, and, as if it were a heat-seeking missile, aimed for the cup Marian
held.

Though
her hand wanted to tremble, she forced it still while the tea decanted into her
mug. “Wonderful.” She couldn’t help a sigh of pleasure.

Jaquar
smiled. “I keep black tea for Alyeka. She has a weakness for it, and apparently
it is not as easily available here in Lladrana as it is in your own land.”

“That’s
kind of you.”

“Not
really. I like her, and she is an excellent Marshall, which means that she can
provide us with very interesting items such as dreeth acid sacs.”