Sorceress of Faith (3 page)

Below,
he saw his Tower, round and of red stone, with a flat roof and a walkway around
it; Mue Island, looking like the blunted top of an archery arrow, slightly
southwest of Coquille-on-the-Coast. He drifted even higher, until he could see
most of Lladrana, the rocky hill where the Marshalls’ Castle sat—in the middle
of Lladrana, far from the ocean, east and north of Coquille-on-the-Coast. He
tugged on the cord between his astral self and his body. It held firm.

Then
he plane-walked, searching for the sangvile.

He
passed through several known planes to reach the one he wanted, tuning himself
to its unique vibrations. Only on this plane could he pinpoint the hideous
energy of the sangvile.

And
there was the monster that had slain his parents. And Jaquar lusted to destroy
the sangvile with all the fierce desire within him. Here, the sangvile was a
gliding black smudge.

Jaquar
was back on the hunt. Though this lower emotional plane was a gray nothingness,
Jaquar could dimly sense the geography of the physical plane below, where the
sangvile roamed. Here, the image of the sangvile was a gliding black smudge,
traveling northwest from Lladrana. Jaquar followed.

No
sights; worse, no sounds. The dreary atmosphere made his emotions all the more
powerful.

The
sangvile moved. Geographic familiarity, physical reference points, were gone.
The sangvile was far outside the borders of Lladrana, flying north with
information and energy and magic to give the Dark.

Jaquar’s
astral self followed. As a mind-shadow, Jaquar had no eyes to weep or voice to
scream his grief. The emotions that gave him the strength and cunning to track
the beast scoured him, made him vengeance incarnate. He would kill the servant
and destroy the lord. No price was too high to pay.

The
thing hesitated in flight, then lashed out with a black-energy tentacle. Jaquar
ducked, drew back. Was it aware of him? Aware of something as predatory as
itself, as ruthless?

Coalescing
into a streak of dark lightning, the horror sped up. The monster was near
its…nest?

Ahead,
the grayness of the ethereal plane changed. In the distance was a black point.
Jaquar sensed something huge and vile and pulsing.

2

I
n front of
Jaquar seethed a mound of evil so dark that it swallowed all light, all energy.
The sangvile rounded itself into a ball and arced downward into a hole of red,
with tentacles of gray and acid green and black. The mound radiated a
loathsome, diseased feeling that seemed to coat Jaquar with slime.

The
place was inimical to all humans. And it was hungry.

No
price was too much to pay to avenge his parents.

Jaquar
flung his astral-self into it.

And
hit a magical shield. Rebounded, stunned and aching.

He
spent his rage battering the magical barrier with all his might, all of
himself. He shifted to planes above and below and struck the shield time and
again, then returned to the first plane.

Jaquar
Dumont
.
A sneering voice resounded in Jaquar’s head along with a hideous clash of
notes. He stopped his fruitless assault. Hovered. Wondered whether to reply, if
acknowledgment would make him vulnerable.

The
great Jaquar Dumont, bastard with tainted Exotique blood
, the voice
continued, and Jaquar realized it
was
human—and male.

A
human Sorcerer consorting with the horrors and monsters that invaded Lladrana?
Had Jaquar been in his physical form he’d have been sick with revulsion. Did
Jaquar know the voice? He didn’t think so. He did sense the Power of the
Sorcerer. The Sorcerer was nearly a Circlet—but he wasn’t the true and ultimate
evil. The man served another.

The
Sorcerer laughed at Jaquar.
So, you have found us, but only on this low
plane. You cannot break the Dark’s shield, nor harm this nest. No Sorcerer or
Sorceress of Lladrana can
.

Come
out and fight!
Jaquar threw the mental call to the human.

The
Sorcerer snorted.
If and when I exit our nest it will be with an army, or
allies so strong that no one will be able to stop us
.

All
of Lladrana will fight you!
Jaquar shouted, trying to pierce the shield with
Mind and Power alone. Futile.

More
sneering laughter.
The Marshalls have discovered how to raise the magical
barrier against us. But in two weeks they have not done much. The Marshalls are
few and slow. The boundary still has many gaps
.

Wild
shrieking came from the human. If he’d been sane at one time, he wasn’t now.

Gathering
himself into a spear of Power, Jaquar arrowed to the red maw-gate of the
pulsing mound. And was flung away.

The
sangvile is safe from you, as are all the servants I control. You will never be
able to pass the shield on any plane. No Lladranan with Power can breech this
forcefield. No Lladranan can hurt this nest
. The voice insinuated into
Jaquar’s mind as he continued to batter at the gate.
Since you loathe the
sangviles so much, I will set more upon Lladrana. Soon. Aimed at Circlets
.

Despairing,
Jaquar continued the assault until his energy faded and he had only enough
strength to return home. He awoke hours later, body stiff, psychically blind
since he’d abused his Power. With croaking voice, he dismissed the magical
pentacle.

Jaquar
staggered to his desk and fell into his chair, ready to record all he knew of
the sangvile, all he’d learned in his pursuit. His face was colder than the
rest of him. He lifted his hand and touched his cheek. It was wet.

Boulder,
Colorado

The
same morning

M
arian froze. “I
didn’t call you.”

Golden
Raven raised little penciled-in eyebrows and pushed by her to enter the
apartment. “I heard you.” She tapped her head, glanced around and took a seat
on the couch.

“I
find that very strange.” Just as odd as everything else that was happening.
Marian shut the door.

Golden
Raven wore tight jeans and shirt that did nothing for her heavy figure. But
unlike Marian, Golden Raven accepted her body. “I know you do, but just listen.
My vision was of you and a young man who looked a great deal like you—except he
had black hair instead of your red.”

Andrew
. Marian had
never told Golden Raven about him. Marian had met a lot of frauds while taking
New Age classes, and Golden Raven wasn’t one of them. The woman was a brilliant
forecaster.

Tilting
her multi-shaded blond head, Golden Raven surveyed Marian’s apartment. “Very
much like you, Marian. Books, papers, everything too neat and tidy. Still striving
for perfection, I see.”

“Golden
Raven, I’m running late for my job—”

“Our
paths are not the same, but I had to tell you of the vision before Wood Elk and
I left for the West Coast.” She looked at Marian, eyes narrowed. “You have a
great deal of intelligence, and more—just plain
magic
in you, right
beneath the surface. But you dabble. You don’t commit yourself to freeing your
powers.”

Marian
wasn’t accustomed to teachers berating her. She stood stiffly beside Golden
Raven.

“You
dabble, not taking what you learn seriously. Yet I feel a brilliant spark
within you, humming just under your skin.” She tapped Marian’s chest above her
breasts. “Strong magic.”

“Golden
Raven, it would be interesting if that were true. But—”

“You
feel your psi powers trying to break free and even now reject them. I
heard
you calling me this morning—can you deny
that?
”

“No.”
But she wanted to. On the other hand, she’d always had an internal push to
find…
something
…ever eluding her. Could it be magic? Could she have
strong psychic powers? She’d only been aware of her weather sense and her
connection to Mother Earth.

Golden
Raven grasped Marian’s arm, then stilled, her eyes going blank and unfocused.
“The full moon. Tomorrow night.” Golden Raven sucked in a breath and stepped
back from Marian, breaking the physical connection. She shook her head, then
met Marian’s eyes. “I don’t know what it means. I can’t tell you. Except that
this full-moon ritual is very important for you. It will be life changing. For
you
and
your brother.”

Her
words were as fearsome as Marian’s nightmares, and seemed just as real.
Believe, or not? Golden Raven had mentioned Andrew again, the bait Marian would
always swallow.

She
said steadily, “When I said your name this morning I wanted to ask if you knew
others who had had experiences like these I’ve been enduring.”

“Your
psi potential demanding to be fulfilled. Do the ritual, find one who will help
you direct it. As for your brother, he is linked to you and I believe he will
be…greatly affected in a good way by your psi development.” She opened her
mouth, then shut it and shook her head again. “No, I should not tell you, even
if I could. I’m sorry, Marian. I must go now, and Blessings upon you.” With a
little duck of her head she turned and left the apartment. The door clicked
shut behind her.

Marian
barely saw her go as emotions churned inside her. She needed another shower,
although a hot bath would be better to banish the sudden chill.

She
might have shrugged off the continuing auditory illusions, might have ignored
Golden Raven’s advice to find another teacher. Might have continued to “dabble”
in New Age spirituality on her way to receiving her doctorate. But she would
never ignore any threat to her brother. Andrew was the person she most loved.
She’d do the ritual tomorrow night.

She’d
anger Candace by not appearing on demand, couldn’t in good conscience take her
mother’s money when she wasn’t going to follow through on the favor of the
fund-raiser. That meant putting her career on hold, getting a job—leaving her
college fund with her mother. Marian squared her shoulders. So be it.

If
a full-moon ritual was important to understand the strangeness happening to her
and if it could help Andrew, she’d do it. And take it seriously, by God—or by
All the Powers that Were.

Lladrana

The
same day

J
aquar had just
finished recording his journey in his lorebook when a crackle of lightning had
him jerking his head to the crystal sphere on his desk. He flicked it with his
fingernail,
ping
, and accepted the sending of another Circlet.

Cloudiness
filled the crystal, then dissolved to wisps. Two people finished the Songspell
that allowed them to communicate with Jaquar and stared out at him. A shaft of
pain speared through him. Jaquar was accustomed to speaking only with his
parents this way, and they would never sing to him again.

Chalmon
Pace and Venetria Fourney—on-again, off-again quarreling lovers—gazed at him.
They both bore the mark of great magical Power, thick streaks of silver at both
temples in their otherwise black hair.

The
last Jaquar had heard, Venetria had been backtracking the sangvile. She’d lost
an aunt in Coquille-on-the-Coast.

“Bad
news,” Chalmon said gruffly.

Jaquar
grunted.

“Venetria’s
information, compiled with what I’ve gleaned from the oldest lorebooks, tells
us that the appetite of the sangvile is exponential.” He cleared his throat.
“And it prefers those with Power. The monster is directed at us, the Circlets
of the Tower Community.”

With
stiff lips Jaquar said, “We lost eight strong Sorcerers and Sorceresses in
Coquille-on-the-Coast. That can’t be allowed to happen again.”

The
other two nodded. “We agree,” Chalmon said. “We must protect ourselves from
this horror. We’re sure you are right—the sangvile followed you from the Marshalls’
Castle.”

Jaquar
laughed harshly. “I thought it was too weak to attach itself to me. I thought
it would hide and garner strength in the Castle. Instead it knew I could lead
it to a richer feast later.” He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that.
“You said its hunger is exponential?”

“Yes,”
sighed Venetria.

“It’s
back at its master’s nest.” The words pulled jerkily from Jaquar, he didn’t
want to think of his journey to the red maw, his vain assault, the gloating
triumph he’d sensed. Nevertheless, he told Chalmon and Venetria.

They
were both pale when he finished.

“It’s
coming back, and not alone,” Venetria whispered. “More than one sangvile?”

“Yes,”
Jaquar said. He’d be ready for the horrors, and he wasn’t averse to attacking.
“We need more to find the nest, to understand what this ‘master’ is and how to
battle it. I’ll organize the effort.”

Chalmon
frowned. “I don’t know—”

Jaquar
gestured, stopping Chalmon’s protest. “I’ve lost the most. Isn’t that the Tower
Community tradition? The one who is most passionate gathers Powerful Circlets
of the Fifth Degree and directs them?”