Strange Attractors (26 page)

But Makee mysteriously vanished along with Clay and Shane, and the young witch who’d appeared as if from nowhere. Rosette had hung back, watching for the right moment when everyone was out of the portal and no one was looking. She swiped the plasma Entity just as Kreshkali called her name.

Screamed is more like it, Maudi.
Drayco’s voice was sleepy in her mind.

I know, Drayco. She was not pleased.

Do you think you’ll lose your apprenticeship?

If we can’t find Jarrod, it won’t matter either way.

Then we’ll find him.

‘Thank you,’ she said aloud, stroking her familiar’s neck. She thanked Teg for his healing touch as well and curled around Drayco, throwing her arm over the temple cat’s shoulder. ‘Wake me when we get to Corsanon, will you Teg?’

‘I would love to, Rosette, but we’re already here.’

She sighed and pushed herself up; Drayco did the same, stretching and yawning. ‘That was fast.’

Teg smiled. ‘The rain’s stopped,’ he said as he led the way. ‘We can all curl up for a sleep in the ferns.’

She shook her head as she overtook him. ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead. We have to find Jarrod.’ They emerged into the moonlight, the soft outline of Temple
Corsanon below. Rosette lifted her face to the stars. ‘How soon after sunset is it?’

Teg gazed at the moon. ‘She’s still in the twelfth house and full to the brim. Less than an hour.’

‘Well done.’ Rosette pointed at the bright star not far from the moon. ‘And conjunct what?’

‘Regulus, so in the sign of the Lion and full. That means the sun is still in the sign of the Water-bearer.’

‘Excellent, Teg.’ She beamed. ‘A few days since the fires, do you think?’

‘If it’s the same year…’

Rosette and Teg both inhaled deeply.

It is,
Drayco said before they could comment on the ambient scent.
I smelled wet ash the moment we walked out of the portal. The place reeks of it. About four days ago, I would say.

Rosette exhaled. ‘Thanks, Dray. It’s faint to me but I agree.’ She looked at Teg and he nodded. ‘We’re going to find Jarrod, if he’s anywhere to be found,’ she said, her face lifting in a smile. ‘Follow me.’ She headed down the path, Drayco loping beside her.

‘To the temple? You think Jarrod’s there?’

‘He isn’t—at least I can’t sense him—but supper is. I’m starving.’

‘And they will feed us, just like that? No introduction. No reference?’ He pulled her back. ‘Don’t you think they’re going to be a bit suspicious, what with the battle in the fields, your prison break in the citadel, the fires…’

‘And the flood?
Your
flood, I might add.’ Rosette laughed. ‘Fortunately, they don’t know it was us that caused so much trouble! Are you going to tell them?’

‘I’m not planning on it.’

‘Then relax. They’ll let us in. We’re either before the temple wars, or maybe the wars never happened at all,
and even if they are a little edgy from recent events, Teg, look at me.’ She straightened her shoulders and patted her round belly. ‘I’m not going to get turned away anywhere I go. Not like this, and I want to take advantage of it.’ She laced her fingers with his. ‘Come on, husband. Let’s go beg a meal.’

‘Husband?’ he said, the word sticking in his throat.

‘Would you prefer brother?’ She squeezed his fingers. ‘We’re aiming for empathy so no point in posing you as some stranger I picked up in my travels.’

‘I guess not.’ He coughed. ‘Husband is…fine then.’

‘And, Teg, no mention of Lupins, please. Whatever you do, don’t shift or ask for raw meat.’

Teg frowned. ‘I don’t like raw meat.’

I do, Maudi.

They both laughed.

‘I’m sure you’ll be offered some, Drayco.’

‘What about him?’ Teg asked, nodding towards her familiar. ‘Aren’t you going to glamour him up?’

‘Not this time. I’d like to see exactly how they respond to a Dumarkian witch. Should tell us a lot more than words.’ Rosette hugged her belly as they reached the temple gates. ‘Serious now, Teg. Keep to your skin. I don’t know what they would make of a Lupin.’

‘I won’t shift unless your life depends on it.’

‘Thank you.’ She smiled. ‘This is reconnaissance, remember.’

Teg pulled back at the sound of the word. ‘What?’

‘Reconnaissance. You don’t know it?’ She looked into the distance.

‘I don’t.’

‘It’s one of Jarrod’s. Like a scouting party. We’re going to gather as much information as we can and
give nothing of ourselves away. We have to find out when we are and if and when the wars began, or if they’re brewing still. How are the temples getting along? Do they know about the portal Entities? Let’s find that out too. The goal is to say nothing and learn everything. The more we know, the better chance we have of finding Jarrod quick smart and getting out of here.’

Teg nodded, giving her hand a squeeze back.
Heads up. Here they come.

It’s our welcoming party.
She smiled like sunshine.
Play the part!

The guards, a man and a woman, were dressed more for meditation than battle, but she knew that was a deception. Swords hung beneath their robes and she guessed their mind powers would be well honed. They were questioned briefly, in polite tones, the severity of the guards’ faces relaxing as she explained their journey.

‘We’ve come from the north, from my family’s farm near the Dumar Gorge,’ she said waving her arm in the general direction of the Oldosia Mountain Range. ‘I promised my sister we’d visit before the baby was due but I’d forgotten how long the road was to Corsanon.’

‘Your sister lives in Corsanon?’

‘Aye, she does.’

‘My Rosette was determined to come, though,’ Teg said.

The man eyed Drayco. ‘A visit from a Dumarkian temple witch and her familiar, even by chance, is always appreciated.’

‘Thank you,’ Rosette said.

‘You’re welcome to rest here, the lot of you,’ the woman said. ‘We have plenty of guest rooms.’

‘Delighted.’ Teg offered a stunning smile.

‘And there’d be supper enough for you in the kitchens, though it’s past serving time in the hall,’ the man said. ‘Tell them Lars sent you and they’ll look after you well.’

‘You are very kind,’ Rosette said.

The guards stepped aside, opening the gate. ‘Ask for Mavis at the reception hearth. I dare say she’ll find you the best bed for the night. You can take the carriage to the city in the morning.’

‘Wonderful,’ Rosette answered. ‘We will do just that. Thank you.’

Teg stared at the bed; the temple cat was stretched along the length of it, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath hypnotic. Rosette was in the bath, the scent of orange blossoms and papaya wafting in from the adjoining washroom.

‘You’re going to love this, Teg. The water is divine. I’m thrilled with the cordial relationship between Corsanon and Dumarka. Aren’t you?’

He didn’t answer. They’d been given a small room, warm food and a hot bath. It was generous of the temple and he was grateful. But because they were travelling companions—introduced as a couple—they clearly felt one bed would be enough.

‘I can sense you’re fretting out there,’ Rosette said. ‘What’s the problem?’

He turned his back on the bed. ‘Nothing.’

‘Are you puzzling over one of your crosswords?’

‘Not exactly.’

Water splashed and she waddled into the room wrapped in a huge purple towel. ‘Concerned about our sleeping arrangements then?’

‘Of course not. I’m easy. I’ll sleep…’

‘In the bed with me and Drayco, of course. Don’t even consider anything else.’ She wiggled her toes on the tile floor. ‘It’s not yet spring and the temperature drops all night in Corsanon before it bakes through the day. I know that much from the last visit and I plan to be kept warm tonight.’ She shivered, wrapping the towel tight around her body. ‘And you and Drayco are my hot-water bottles.’

‘At your service, of course.’

‘Teg, are you blushing?’

He turned away. ‘Not at all.’ He unbuttoned his shirt. ‘If you’re finished with the bath I might have a quick wash.’

She smiled, stepping aside to let him pass. ‘You’re not betraying her, you know, no matter what. She doesn’t go by the Lupin customs.’ Rosette chuckled. ‘She doesn’t go by any customs at all, as far as I can tell.’

He blushed deeper. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Teg held his hand over the steaming tub, his finger breaking the surface of the water to touch a single orange blossom. The moonlight shone in from the high window, the beams falling onto his face.

‘My mistake,’ Rosette said. ‘I thought…’

‘You thought?’

‘Never mind. Take your time in the bath. It’s wonderful.’

He undressed and submerged in the dark water, the steam enveloping him like a night fog.

‘Did you bring any of your word puzzles, Teg?’

He opened his eyes.
I thought we were going to discuss a strategy. Compare notes?

They had each made contacts after dinner. Rosette had seen the healer and Teg had gone to the late meditation. He didn’t have much to add to their building hypothesis but he was certain this Corsanon
had never seen any temple wars. At least not yet. He was curious to hear what Rosette had discovered

Best we play the part of a travelling couple, Teg. Someone’s listening. I can feel it.

‘I brought a new one, just for you,’ he answered. ‘It’s in my pack. Side pouch.’

He heard rummaging.

‘This is cryptic,’ she called out.

‘I picked it up from Treeon. Been saving it for…this journey.’

After a long soak, Teg came out dressed in a thick robe, his hair wet and smelling sweet. Rosette was dressed the same and propped up in bed, Drayco at her feet. ‘How are you going with it?’ he asked.

‘It’s hard.’

‘Give us a clue?’

She scooted over, patting the covers. ‘Ten letters. Ends with n. Dromedary thoughts.’ She knited her brow. ‘Who writes this stuff?’

‘A Treeon wordsmith named Julian de Normeny. Timbali-trained.’ He got into bed next to her. ‘It’ll be a challenge.’

‘No kidding. Dromedary?’ Rosette said. The page was backed by a thin book resting on her knees. She hunched over it, her writing lead poised. ‘That’s a type of goat, isn’t it?’

‘Not quite a goat. Dromedaries have different feet—pads not cloven hooves—and they’re huge, taller than horses. They run wild on the Ubi Plains.’

‘With the hump on their backs? Yellow coats?’

‘That’s the one. They chew their cud, though, like goats and cows.’

‘So it’s a ruminant?’ Rosette said, counting the letters on her fingers.

‘Oh, good one. Does it fit?’

She clicked her tongue. ‘Too short.’

‘Rumination!’ Teg snapped his fingers. ‘Thinking things over!’

‘Ten letters. Perfect!’

‘What’s next?’

They worked the puzzle until it was finished, the soft sounds of Drayco’s sleep filling the room. Rosette pulled back the covers and crawled in, scooting towards the wall to leave room for Teg.

‘Come on. Keep me warm. I’m so tired.’

‘I thought you weren’t going to sleep until you were dead.’

‘I changed my mind. I want to sleep now.’

‘And in the morning?’

‘To Corsanon, by coach please. I’m tired of walking too.’

Teg settled in beside her and she sighed.

Is the listener still with us?
Rosette asked.

I can’t feel her if she is.

Me neither.
She yawned.

I think the crossword put her to sleep.

‘I think so too.’

‘Rosette, what would happen to Gaela and Earth if there were no Corsanon wars?’ He whispered the words in her ear, her long hair tickling his nose.

‘We would never meet, for one.’

‘And the spell?’

‘It would still be in the bottom of the gorge.’ She spun around, her nose bumping his. ‘Teg, that might be it.’

‘You think Makee’s going to go looking for the spell?’

‘It’s possible.’

‘But she can’t get to it. It’s buried under fathoms of water.’

‘Unless she plans on changing the course of the rivers.’ She sat up. ‘Or she’s worked out how to shift into a water serpent.’

‘Tricky, in any case. What’s our plan?’

Rosette slid back under the covers. ‘Same, Teg. We search for Jarrod. But we also keep our eye on the temple politics, and we keep an eye out for La Makee.’ She rolled back to the wall. ‘Let’s have breakfast early, in the main hall.’

‘More reconnaissance?’

‘Exactly. We’ll add it all up on the way to the city.’

He lay next to her; the rhythm of her breath was soothing until she suddenly gasped.

‘Quick, Teg! Feel this.’

Before he could respond, she planted his hand on her belly. He felt the movement, like a puppy wriggling under a blanket. He smiled, holding her until she fell asleep.

Xane led Grace in a smart trot, his legs working hard to keep abreast of the mare as he circled the parade ground. She was a tall horse, bred from a particularly spirited line of Desertwinds—the breed most favoured for the arid lands around Corsanon. If it weren’t for the five rivers that overflowed from the Dumar Gorge each spring, no crops would grow and no city would have sprouted either. But even with the rich water source, a half-hour’s ride in any direction brought endless sand dunes, dry prairie and rocky gullies lined with prickly pear cactus and rolling tumbleweed. The Desertwinds were champion steeds for such terrain, long on endurance and elegant as well. Grace’s hooves clicked over the hard-packed clay, her black mane and tail floating on the breeze. She was showing off today, trotting with exaggerated
steps, her neck arched and nostrils flaring. Xane was pleased. She made him look good.

‘Tack her up, lad. I want to see her at the gallop,’ Willem said.

He was hoping for that. ‘Aye, sir.’

He eased her down to a walk, puffing as he led her back to the stables. He loved riding the horses but hadn’t had a chance to lately. There was a new string of lasses and lads in to exercise the mounts and he’d been kept busy with more mundane tasks. He suspected it was because of his injury—the arrow wound to his neck and the hemlock poisoning being no small things—but that was days ago now and he felt fully recovered.
Willem must think so too, if he’s asking me to ride.
He tacked up the mare in the saddle and bridle he’d oiled the night before, eager for the gallop. This was the best part of his apprenticeship and he was enjoying every moment of it.