Sorceress of Faith (30 page)

Through
her bond with the other woman, Marian felt a pulse of surprised fear.
Shit,
Marian, could you scream a little lower? You woke me up
.

Marian
closed her eyes. It had worked! She’d added a little wind-spell chant to her
call and it had worked! She giggled. It sounded high and nervous to her ears.
No more crystal balls for her.

Is
Sinafin there
?
Marian asked, opening her eyes and scanning her place for the dozenth time.

Mind
grumbling, Alexa seemed to check, then said,
I don’t see her. She is her own
person. I don’t keep tabs on her
.

Marian
puffed out a breath.
Alexa, she was just here, in my rooms at Jaquar’s
Tower. Terrorizing me
.

What?

I
swear she did the best she could to scare me out of my skin. She was a vulture.

A
vulture, huh. Another name for buzzard, right?

Yes
.

Alexa’s
mind-tone almost sounded amused. Marian received the impression that Sinafin
had been everything from a cockroach to a chinchilla. Then Alexa’s mind turned
to thinking.
I hate to say this
—

Marian
could almost see Alexa making a face.
Yes?
She prompted.

But
if Sinafin terrorized you, it was probably for your own good
.

The
chill of fear crept back into Marian’s bones. She wrapped the comforter tighter
around her, hummed the little fire-tune that had gone out of her head earlier.
Warmth enveloped her, but her insides remained cold.
That doesn’t sound
good. The deductions one makes from that statement
…

Yeah
, Alexa agreed.
If
she’s terrorizing you for your own good, she probably thinks you’re gonna face
something even scarier
.

She
did say I’d learned my lesson
.

Huh
, Alexa said.
Then
I’d be sure to practice what she taught you. What lesson?

At
that moment a siren shrieked—and it was Alexa hearing it. The sound punched
through their connection accompanied by Alexa’s sweeping emotions—feelings
spurred by upcoming battle.

Gotta
go. Invasion alarm. They aren’t supposed to attack at night. Something’s up.

Marian
received an impression of Alexa jumping from bed, racing to her chain-mail,
baton flashing into her hand and Bastien at her heels.

Take
care
.

Yeah
, Alexa sent
absently.
Like they say in e-mail, “virtual hugs
.” But her mind had
fallen into a strange rhythm.

She
was preparing for battle. To fight and kill monsters, perhaps to die.

God
bless!
Marian sent strongly, then broke the connection.

She
slid from bed to pace the room a few times, then, when she was warm, slipped
off the comforter and spread it back over the bed until it was perfectly
aligned. Then she crawled under the covers and hoped for sleep without dreams.
And prayed for Alexa.

J
aquar’s flight
back to Mue was full of thoughts of Marian. The sight of her as she’d called
the Wind haunted him. Her dress had lifted to show her body—the body he was
trying hard to forget that he’d seen naked twice—and the odd undergarment she
wore only accentuated her loveliness. Her hair had floated around her, deep red
with fiery highlights.

Most
tempting of all were her blue eyes, wide with discovery and excitement, and the
joy on her face. How was he going to resist the temptation of all that?

He
gritted his teeth. He would have to. Marian intended to return to her home and
her sick brother. If
his
parents had needed
him
, nothing would
have stopped him from helping.

Jaquar
had rediscovered his honor and thanked the Song he hadn’t committed an action
that he would not have been able to live with. He wasn’t about to stain his
precious honor by having sex with Marian and binding her to Lladrana through
him when she believed she was needed elsewhere.

So
perhaps he should help her hunt for medical aid for her brother—the sooner she
was gone, the sooner he could craft a new life without his parents and continue
on.

He
might even consider taking an Apprentice.

When
Nightsky and he landed near the Tower, Jaquar saw no light from Marian’s
windows. She must be asleep.

He
realized he’d wanted to see her, spend a little time in her company, just enjoy
the humming notes between them. Best she had retired.

Jaquar
sniffed the air. A storm was coming. It would bring rain for Marian to practice
manipulating—and lightning. Though it was years now since he’d called the
lightning storm and it had raged beyond his control, he shuddered. Still,
Bossgond was right: Marian had an affinity for Fire.

Though
Jaquar would never match her mastery in that element as a Weather mage, he knew
how to call the lightning, ride it even. Better yet, he could teach her the
basics, guide her practices and watch her learn and become proficient with her
Power, and that was almost as good as using it himself. He didn’t think she’d
ever—quite—match him in controlling Wind and Air.

He
would teach her. He would protect her, and instruct her how to protect herself.

So
Jaquar tended to the volaran, then went to his rooms and, listening to the
rising wind, fell asleep.

A
sound woke him. An odd noise he’d never heard in his Tower. Foggy with sleep,
he listened, heard clicks coming from the speaking tube near his bed.

Before
he could determine the source of the noise, a tiny, cold, sharp-clawed paw
patted his face. He jerked in reaction but stopped the whistle that would have
flung the hamster against the wall.

“You
are thinking of Marian,” the little being squeaked.

He’d
been dreaming of her—lush and wanton and laughing in his arms as they rolled on
the bed and she opened her thighs and her mind and—He grunted noncommittally in
response to Tuck.

“You
should go to her.” Two small paws tapped his cheek.

“I
don’t think so.”

“It
would be best if you go to her and mate. I am Marian’s companion, but I want to
stay here in Lladrana. Her place is here, too. She is a Sorceress.” Tuck
hissed, “The feycoocu says she should stay.”

Ah,
the instigator and the reason the mousekin was bothering Jaquar. “You mean the
feycoocu wants me to bond with Marian so that when her Snap comes, she will be
more likely to remain here. Marian is concerned for her brother—that’s who she
wants to help. That’s who she’s bound to the most, emotionally.”

“That
should change. Andrew is good, but he is not as important as you.”

The
brother wasn’t as important to the hamster or the feycoocu as Jaquar, is what
Tuck meant. Jaquar didn’t want to listen any more to the creature.

“I’m
not going to have sex with Marian just to please you or the feycoocu.”

The
hamster withdrew his paws, but a moment later, Jaquar felt the tug on his hair
and scalp as the rodent climbed onto his head.

It
sat on his forehead, warm and furry…and tickling. Rolling his eyes back, Jaquar
could see the gleam of Tuck’s tiny black eyes, serious with a knowledge that
Jaquar didn’t want to face.

“Your
Songs match,” Tuck said.

Jaquar
didn’t want to hear that.

“She
belongs here. With you. With me. With Bossgond.”

“That
may be what you want, may truly be best for her, but Marian must decide for
herself.”

Tuck
grumbled, huffed, climbed down to walk back and forth across Jaquar’s chest.
“You won’t go to her tonight?”

“No.
If we…mate, our pleasure will be a mutual experience, one she wants as much as
I. I will not seduce her. Furthermore, I will endeavor
not
to bind her
to me with a strong sexual tie.”

More
mutterings from the hamster. Finally Tuck sniffed and said, “It would be better
if you love tonight, in the Tower. Best if you twine your Songs into one. But
we must trust the Song.”

The
philosophy was far beyond what Jaquar thought Tuck could achieve. The hamster
had been talking better, too. Jaquar wondered how Tuck had made the
intellectual leap. The feycoocu? Practice? Jaquar didn’t know, but
uncomfortable personal conversation or not, the whole episode was going word
for word in his personal Lorebook.

“Good
night,” Tuck said. His claws skittered as he stepped into the speaking tube.

To
Jaquar’s amazement, the hamster flew up.

A
moment later, Jaquar found himself smiling. There were now three beings in this
Tower who were masters of Air.

W
hen she met
Jaquar at the door to his study the next morning, Marian noticed a constraint
between them in their stilted conversation. Perhaps he thought that she was
going to ask awkward questions about where he’d disappeared the night before.
Marian didn’t consider it any of her business, but didn’t know what formalities
or rules there might be between student and teacher. She was certain that she
didn’t want to talk to him about Sinafin’s visit, and he’d no doubt ask if she
commented on his night.

So
breakfast talk was desultory. One glance at Tuck’s house showed Marian that he
was curled up in a ball in the plush room he’d taken as his sleeping space. The
sitting room that adjoined Tuck’s “bedroom” was piled high with his hoard.

Marian
shook her head at the sight. “I think Tuck has finally adapted to Lladrana and
gone back to his old nocturnal habits.”

An
odd expression crossed Jaquar’s face, but all he said was “It seems so.” He
hesitated, gestured to the trees thrashing in the wind outside the Tower
windows. “A storm’s coming in. The height of the front will strike the
northwest part of Mue Island midafternoon. This is excellent weather for you to
practice Water Power. The hike across the island is an hour, so we should leave
after lunch.”

Forcing
a smile at the thought of a long hike in bad weather just to fail at lessons,
Marian agreed to the plan. He was the prof, after all.

He
must have guessed her thoughts, or perhaps the notes stringing between them
went a trifle flat, because he smiled genuinely. Pushing his clean plate aside,
he leaned forward on the table and whispered, eyes glinting, “We can also see
how you do with Lightning Magic.”

Immediately
Marian cheered up. She felt her eyes widen. “For real? I’m very good with
Lightning in the ecospheres. It’s my best subject. But you’ll let me try it in
a real-life situation?” She found herself whispering, too, in excitement.

Jaquar
chuckled. “Yes. A practicum.”

Marian
nearly shuddered with delight. “This is going to be the
absolute best
class in my entire career.”

He
set his hand out on the table, palm up. His gaze was gentle.

She
put her hand in his, squeezed his fingers, then noted the rolling melody
streaming from him to her and back, redoubling in strength. Lifting her glance
to his, they connected that way, too. His eyes had deepened to dark blue, blue
she hadn’t seen on Earth—Lladranan blue, or perhaps it was the silver glints in
them—magic, Power. Power blue.

“Your
eyes are so beautiful,” she said.

His
expression closed and he pulled his hand away, stood and banished the dishes.
“Be prepared to leave for the shore after lunch. Practice Water and Lightning
in the spheres this morning for at least three hours.”

Well,
that was certainly a dismissal. Consultation with the prof over.

Marian
stood and curtsied formally, which made Jaquar narrow his eyes as if he
wondered whether she was being sarcastic. She looked once more at the sleeping
Tuck, then went down to pursue her studies.

When
she started working with the ecospheres, she understood she’d always used the
wind or the sun to work with the water, not handled that particular element
itself. She flushed again at the thought of how easily she’d failed in the task
the day before of holding water in the air, and how well she’d thought she’d
been progressing before that. Sighing, she knew she’d had a touch of hubris and
had been squelched.

She
studied hard, experimenting with water for a solid hour, starting with the
smallest terrarium through to the largest. Her efforts at mastering water in
the terrariums were mediocre. To truly master Water magic, she’d need
step-by-step instruction from Jaquar.

After
struggling with Water, she spent some time with Lightning, then looked over the
lesson plan and found she’d completed every task. She spent another half-hour
being creative with Lightning, then went back to Water before she finished
manipulating the elements.

Marian
was deep in her medical reading when Jaquar announced lunch. She had it sent
down in a dumbwaiter type device, and ate at her desk, reading. When her
waterfall clock pinged that she had a few minutes before Jaquar came down, she
freshened up and donned her sturdiest gown to hike across the island. Still,
she waited for him for about five minutes, not daring to immerse herself again
in the scrolls. She wished Tuck or her PDA had been around to set the alarm—the
waterfall clock was too imprecise for her taste. She eyed the thing. Surely
there were better timepieces.
Some
Circlet had to be studying time.