Sorceress of Faith (26 page)

The
thought of it, and her breeze, took her breath from her. She followed
directions. In her mind’s eye, she visualized her large yellow mixing bowl, the
whisk she used to beat eggs, and applied the memory of physically whipping the
eggs to the use of her Power. In an instant the wind increased, battered her,
flipped her gown high around her waist, lifted her several feet in the air,
spinning her. The little grooming spell on her long hair didn’t survive.
Strands lashed her face. Her laugh turned into a shriek, part excitement,
mostly fear.

She
didn’t know what to do next. The wind was too strong for her.

Hold
. Jaquar’s calm
voice came in her mind and she didn’t know if he spoke to her or the wind.
And
still
.

The
rotation of the air—of her—slowed, and she lowered. She misjudged the height
and the moment when the breeze stopped, and landed awkwardly off balance. She
took a couple of stumbling steps, windmilled, but fell.

Then
she stared at the blue sky and the clouds…clouds she could move and shape. She
stretched out her arms—she felt as if she were breaking from a constricting
cocoon. Yes. More, more, more!

Jaquar’s
shadow fell over her and the man himself looked down with an odd expression on
his face, as if he’d been surprised by some new fact that killed a pet theory
of his.

Marian
laughed. Though handsome as the devil, he was like many other scholars she’d
known. Like her.

So
she smiled up at him.

His
face scrunched further, emotions warring behind his gaze. Then a great breath
escaped him. He smiled, sadly, shrugged and offered her his hand.

She
took it and welcomed the Song that rang between them. It was all part of the
beauty of the day.

With
a tug, he drew her to her feet.

And
into his arms.

She
glanced up at him in surprise and he took advantage of her parted lips to press
his mouth on hers…and everything else faded.

The
kiss seared through her like a scorching wind, leaving her knees so weak that
she leaned against him and learned him in a whole new way—his body in intimate
comparison to hers. Taller, broader, stronger.

Harder.

Except
his lips—they were soft and intoxicating, nibbling at her mouth just as the
sensuality of their Song nibbled at her reason.

For
a while she just gloried in the rush of passion, of all the sensations that
told her she was strong and womanly and desired. His arm was a solid bar across
her back, holding but not forcing. His other hand curved around her hip, then
squeezed as he exhaled a small groan. The tip of his tongue penetrated her
mouth and she tasted him, exotic and spicy and rich as the darkest bittersweet
chocolate. She wanted more of this, too.

The
music was nearly overwhelming. If she let it, the melody could sweep away
reason and logic and sense. Something that had happened before only at the peak
of orgasm. She should be frightened at the undercurrents and riptide of
passion, but instead it was tempting, for once in her life, to forget reason
and only
feel
.

His
hand went to her bottom, brought her into his body and against his hard
erection. A moan of hunger escaped her—she wasn’t positioned quite…right. But
his mouth had moved from hers to below her ear, trailing down her jaw to her
neck, and her skin heated and her pulse pounded and she thought she was melting
into him. The beat of their music wound tight.

A
moment later he lowered her to the ground, followed her down to lay beside her,
his hand going to her breasts.

The
ground was sun-warmed beneath her, but it hummed an alien tune. No familiar
Song of Mother Earth, but something odd and thready and broken that jolted her
from the haze of passion.

She
rolled away. His hand reached, but she kept moving until she was beyond his
grasp, beyond his close scent that called to her to mate. Marian forced herself
to one elbow, then the other. Panting, she dared not look at him in case she
lost all rationality again. The man was definitely dangerous.

He
stood and said nothing. She didn’t think he’d offer his hand again, but in case
he did, she scrambled to her feet.

She’d
known the sexual awareness was there, had half-fantasized about the man, but
didn’t realize until now how utterly she could succumb to him. It wasn’t just
fighting her own attraction to him, but fighting his great magnetism. And the
Song that spiraled between them burst into full orchestral Power when they
touched. Too many things were in the “minus” column, but the way her body felt,
the way he made her feel beautiful were huge pluses.

Not
looking at him, she shook out her dress—unnecessary since there weren’t any
wrinkles—to give herself something to do. Then her hands went to her hair and
she tunelessly whispered the grooming spell that tucked strands smoothly into a
braid. He gazed at her.

“I
thought,” he said in a husky voice, “you had a repetition of that vision you
received the moment we met so soon after you were Summoned. But that isn’t why
you drew away, is it?”

Marian
composed her expression and looked at him. His eyes were deep blue, and she
thought she could see sparks in them. His lips were more red than she’d seen on
any Lladranan. She ran a tongue around her own and found them plump, and the
taste of him jolted her once more. She took a step back.

“No.”
She wasn’t sure she could explain why the Song of the world of Amee had
affected her so.

“Since
we are on the topic of our first meeting, what revelation
did
you have
about me?” His muscles tensed.

“I
don’t know,” she said on a sigh, and met his now cool gaze. “Just that you were
my doom.” It sounded stupid.

He
stood and looked down at her, expression serious. “My emotions were raw at that
time.”

She
narrowed her eyes. He was still keeping something from her—but what right did
she have to demand he tell his secrets? None. They had a lot in common, but
they weren’t close friends. Acquaintances, colleagues—with him being the
senior—perhaps even bordering on lovers…That might be it! She worked it out in
her mind, slowly speaking the logic aloud.

“Are
you talking about a bond between us—like I have with Bossgond—that might have
harmed me?”

“My
emotions were raw,” he said again, with just enough emphasis for her to know
that he hated admitting it.

“I’ve
learned that bonding with people here can keep me on Amee instead of returning
me to Earth during the Snap.” She turned her arm so he could see the two
magical tattoos—Bossgond’s yellow bird and Alexa’s jade baton.

Jaquar’s
mouth twisted. “You already have two bonds, and you still want to go back to
your brother.” He started walking, but not toward his Tower. Another lesson?
Perhaps. They were both dedicated scholars.

“Bossgond
has been solitary for a long time. He knows how much my brother Andrew means to
me and has said he’d help me return—perhaps even come back to Amee if I’m
successful in helping my brother. So he won’t hold on to me.” Marian matched
steps with Jaquar. “As for Alexa—she’s from Earth so her bond isn’t completely
Lladranan. She, too, understands about my brother and wouldn’t keep me here
against my will.”

“Sounds
logical, but what is logical in theory is not often true in reality,” Jaquar
said softly.

Soon
they reached a tiny cove surrounded by rock. Narrowing her eyes, Marian thought
she could see the coastline of Lladrana—so this was the eastern side of Mue
Island.

“You
are excellent with Wind—Fourth Degree edging into fifth,” Jaquar said. “Let’s
work with Water and Rain. There are several pools in the cove where you can
practice tides and surf and wave. The cove itself is an excellent shape and
size to develop rain. We won’t work with thunderstorms today—that is best
conducted on the far southwest of the island.”

That
was a blessing. Marian was beginning to feel tired.

Jaquar
gestured to a nearby pool. “Why don’t you start with something simple, like
evaporating the water and holding it in the air.”

Marian
walked over to the pool, smiling, then stopped. “I can’t.” She shook her head.
“There are creatures in this pool. I can’t harm them.” She glanced at Jaquar,
to see an approving look in his eyes.

He
nodded shortly. “Good. You have a strong ethical basis
and
a realization
that the use of your Power to modify Weather could greatly affect them.”

“Thank
you,” she murmured.

“However,
the residents of this particular pool won’t be affected by your evaporation
unless you also draw all the moisture out of their bodies—”

Ick.

“—and
I’ll be here to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

That’s
when the work began.

The
water was slippery—as slippery to hold with her mind as it was to cup in her
hands. Time and again she slowly lifted the water, to find it escaping her
mental grasp before she could fold it into the air. She started
enthusiastically with about a pitcherful, but after a couple of hours she was
down to a cupful, and of that, could only make a few drops evaporate.

Jaquar
was so even-tempered that it grated on her nerves. She sweated in the warm
sunlight and he lounged on a rock, writing on a scroll and watching her lack of
accomplishment.

Exasperated,
she rounded on him—and found his patience was nothing but a pose, his mouth
curved in an amused smile.

“What
are you laughing at?”

He
just raised his brows. “I was wondering if you would prove to be the exception
to the rule that Weather Sorcerers are better in one element than others. It
would have been trying if you were perfect.”

Marian
stopped in midsnarl, relaxed. Then she rubbed her temples. “The water is so
damn
slippery
.”

“It
is at that,” he said in suspicious agreement.

“I
suppose you have no trouble with water.”

“I
had the same amount of trouble with it as you are having when I was a
first-degree Scholar.”

She
sighed. “A long time ago. So it will take me years to become proficient with
it.”

“Probably,
even though your Power is strong and you’ve advanced rapidly, this could be
your weak point.”

She
had others—her need for perfection was one. She grimaced. “I suppose we should
call it a day.”

“Yes,
I have my own studies this evening, but I will leave you with my entire medical
library to peruse.”

That
drove every other thought out of her mind. “Great!” Her eyebrows dipped.
“Something—I don’t know—something today made me think that there
is
help
for him here.” She couldn’t understand it, but once she spoke the words aloud,
she knew it was true. She instinctively believed Lladrana had the answers her
brother needed.

Jaquar
stared at her thoughtfully. “Everyone has been speaking about you—that would
include Alyeka, and she knows your world and ours. Today you called the Wind
and the Zephyr. There might have been notes of a tune, perhaps even a melody
within the winds that told you this.”

She
blinked at him, then wondered if she’d
ever
understand enough about
Lladranan Power.

When
they reached Jaquar’s tower, his huge black flying horse was cropping grass
near the building. The sight of packs loaded on the volaran made Marian blink.
Nothing in the world—in
two
worlds—looked less like a beast of burden.

It
raised its head, tossed its mane and whinnied. Marian heard a faint
Heyy
in her head, obviously a greeting. It watched her with huge dark eyes, seeming
as interested in her as she was in it.

Jaquar
strode over to it and stroked its neck, his face softening into a smile. Then
he glanced up at Marian. “This is Nightsky. He is honoring me with his
companionship.” Jaquar whistled and the packs vanished in a riffling breeze.
Marian made an involuntary sound—she’d noticed the hem of one of her gowns and
it was hard to see it disappear again. She bit her lip and looked up at the
Tower.

“I
sent them to my study,” Jaquar said.

She
nodded.

“Come
meet Nightsky.”

There
was nothing she wanted more. She walked slowly to the volaran, held out her
hand, fingers down, for him to snuffle.
Heyy
, he said again, aloud and
in her mind. Slowly lifting his muzzle, he sniffed at her hair.
Good
. It
was more of a feeling and an image—of a lump of sugar—than a word.

Marian
laughed and Jaquar smiled. “Not many volarans deign to speak to humans. We are
honored.” He bowed to the horse, who blew air from his nostrils.

Going
to the steed’s other side, Marian stroked him herself. His coat was finer,
silkier than a horse’s, feeling almost like tiny feathers, over a strong
muscular body. She frowned. “How do they fly?”