Sorceress of Faith (40 page)

Sevair
Masif’s gray stone house sat across from a pretty green square. Both the
outside and the warmly paneled interior were distinctive and obviously quality
work. The earth-tone furnishings of the den Marian, Jaquar and Alexa were
issued into were of excellent material and well-tended.

Jaquar
led Marian to a small beige couch that would hold two, and Alexa took a chair
of deep gray.

Sevair
stood stiffly behind the desk. In a work shirt, his arms and shoulders appeared
well-honed by his occupation. He was as tall as Faucon had been, and like
Luthan, he had a streak of silver hair on the left side of his forehead.

His
jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed. He leaned forward on long, scarred hands,
piercing Jaquar with his stare.

“Weather
Sorcerer Circlet Dumont, were you ever going to answer our requests for help?”
he asked icily.

Jaquar
stood and straightened to his full height—a couple of inches taller than Masif,
but not as heavily muscled. He still managed to look down his nose. “I received
no request for help.”

Masif’s
gaze snapped with angry fire. His jaw flexed, then he said, even more coldly,
“Every few months for the past two years, we sent a message to you asking for
help.”

Jaquar’s
manner changed subtly, from challenging to listening. He shook his head.
“Townmaster Masif, I received no message. How did you send it?”

“Through
the Marshalls, to be forwarded to you—” He stopped, glanced at Alexa who was no
longer lounging in her chair but sitting up straight.

Making
a disgusted sound, Masif moved to a chair—not the one behind his desk, which
would give him a better placement for authority, but one near the fireplace.
“The Marshalls. They didn’t forward our messages. They never responded to our
questions themselves, and now I learn that they actively worked against my
Townspeople.” His fingers fisted, released. “The Marshalls let my people worry,
turn into mockers, and betrayed us.”

“One
moment!” Alexa raised a hand, her brow knit, and Marian could hear the faint
echoes of Alexa’s conversation with the other Marshalls. After a minute, Alexa
said to Masif, “The Marshalls made the decision not to tell you that they
didn’t know how to combat the frinks. However, neither Thealia nor any of the
older Marshalls received any messages from any Townmaster to pass along to the
Tower Community or Circlet Jaquar, the Weather Sorcerer.”

“Reynardus.”
Masif’s mouth thinned.

“Not
necessarily,” Alexa said. “When was your last message?”

“A
few weeks ago…”

“After
I’d joined the Marshalls?”

“Yes.”

There
was silence. Finally, Masif stood and bowed to Jaquar. “My apologies. It looks
as if the problem regarding a traitor is mine. And forgive me my inhospitality.
Would you like tea?” he asked Marian.

“No,
thank you.”

Jaquar
offered his hand to Masif. “I am sorry.”

Masif
clasped Jaquar’s hand and the men’s energy merged, flared, their Songs ringing
in the harmony of like minds. Both looked a bit stunned. Masif dropped his hand
and took a step back. Jaquar came and sat beside Marian, setting his arm along
the back of the sofa behind her.

“I
am also sorry to tell you that I can do nothing about the frinks,” Jaquar said.
He huffed out a frustrated breath. “I’ve tried, the Song knows how often I’ve
tried, but I can’t
sense
the frinks in the clouds. Not all rain clouds
carry them, and there is no pattern as to which do and which don’t.”

“Before
Alyeka came, every rain brought frinks.”

Jaquar
rubbed his left temple. “Then perhaps they develop at a lower altitude than I
can operate inside a cloud—they might even form as they leave a cloud. I can
only tell you that I don’t know much about the matter, despite intensive
study.” He shrugged. “They are elusive to me.”

It
was obvious he didn’t like admitting that. Marian shifted closer to him in
comfort and Masif’s gaze went to her.

“Last
night there were heavy rains on farmer Ciboul’s fields. Since Alyeka came, the
outer fields that border the road to Castleton have received fewer and fewer
frinks in the rain. But the inner fields, frinks were still a problem—until
this morning. Ciboul reported to the Citymasters’ Council that there was no
sign of frinks in several fields.”

Marian
felt herself blushing. Suddenly she recalled the deep ties everyone seemed to
have with the land. Would the farmer have realized she and Jaquar had had sex
in his fields? How mortifying.

Jaquar
said, “I was instructing Scholar Marian in weather yesterday, particularly
storms and lightning. We rode the lightning onto a field near the road between
the Castle and Castleton, then walked out to the road.”

“Excuse
me,” Marian said. “But what do frinks look like?”

Masif
smiled. “I anticipated that question. It appears as if I am the tutor for the
Exotiques in frinks. You learned of frinks with me, didn’t you, Alyeka?”

Alexa
shuddered. “Yes.”

The
Townmaster walked back to his desk and took out a round pottery bowl. He shook
it a little and the sound made Marian’s skin crawl. It was reminiscent of
rattlesnake tails, with an added tinny note.

“Ewww,”
said Alexa.

Masif
stopped beside her and showed her what was in the bowl. “Ewww,” she said again,
took the bowl and wrinkled her nose, then handed it to Marian.

Marian
decided to be more classic in her exclamation. “Ick.” The bowl was full of
little metallic shells that looked like articulated, armored cocoons. Each was
about three inches long and as wide as her thumb. She grimaced. “Double ick.”

Jaquar
took the bowl and poked his finger into it, stirring the contents. The
repulsive, tinny scritching sound came again. Marian and Alexa shuddered.

“Most
frinks that fall, die. Only some survive and burrow into the soil,” Jaquar said
absently. He picked one up. Holding it by one end, he wiggled it.

Marian
leaned away from him. “It sounds like a rattlesnake tail, only worse,” she
said.

Jaquar
and Masif looked at her quizzically.

“Yes!”
Alexa said. “That’s what they remind me of. One of my foster parents had a
rattlesnake tail. Ick.”

“Ewww,”
said Marian at the same time.

Turning
it over in his fingers, Jaquar frowned. “Even this shell has weight. If I felt
these in the clouds, I’d know it.”

“Oh!”
Marian stared at Jaquar, wide-eyed, understanding now what they’d flown through
in that black cloud the afternoon before.

They
all looked at her.

Jaquar’s
scowl vanished and he sent a little tune to her, which echoed back with her
puzzlement.

“What?”
he prompted.

With
an inward shrug, Marian tried an explanation. “That black cloud, with the—the
sleet.” It hadn’t been sleet. It had been frinks. The thought of those obscene
things pummeling her creeped her out. “The noise instead of the Songs.”

“Marian,”
Jaquar said quietly. “I saw no black cloud. I would not have taken you into a
cloud with sleet. I’m a Weather Sorcerer. I know which clouds hold ice pellets.
We went into rain, yes, but not sleet. I heard no strange noise.” He kept his
cool, blue gaze on hers.

Marian
lifted and spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “I don’t understand.”

“She’s
an Exotique. Perhaps she can perceive the frinks that escape your notice,
Circlet,” Masif said, equally coolly.

Never
looking away from her, Jaquar nodded. “Perhaps so. Tell us.”

Grimacing,
Marian looked at Masif. “Could I have that tea now, please?”

“Certainly.”
He picked up a horn that wasn’t connected to anything and ordered tea.

Momentarily
distracted, Marian asked, “How do you do that? Is the horn magic, or—”

Masif
smiled. “The horn has a small spell on it, but, I, too, have Power.”

“Oh.”
She narrowed her eyes and stared at him, trying to see his aura. Nothing.

Jaquar
put the frink back in the bowl and set it aside. Then he wiped his hands on a
handkerchief and grasped her hands. Until his fingers touched hers, Marian
hadn’t realized how cold hers were. He rubbed them between his own.

“Tell
us about the cloud.”

With
a frown, Marian searched her mind for details. “I don’t know when or where we
blew into it.” She lifted and dropped a shoulder. “Playing in the storm was so
exciting, I couldn’t measure time—you know how it is.”

“I
can guess that you got caught up in your work.” Masif smiled at her.

At
a tap on the door, he opened it and took a small tray, which he placed on the
low table in front of her.

Marian
made herself strong, sweet tea, and curved her hands around the china cup for
the comfort of a known thing—a china cup of tea. The men were unknown, the
furniture slightly different. Songs of the people in the house flowed around
her in music unknown on Earth. A hot cup of tea was familiar.

When
Alexa followed her lead and smiled at her, Marian was even more comforted.

“Marian?”
Jaquar prompted, more teacher to student than lover to lover.

She
sipped the tea. It was good as tea went. She drank a bit more. “As I said
before, I can’t judge when or where the cloud was, but it was huge—a big, black
cloud shaped like a fist.” Jaquar tensed beside her, but she continued. Frowning,
she looked into his eyes. “I nearly lost contact with you. I couldn’t
feel
you. So I grabbed onto you, hard.”

Nodding
shortly, Jaquar said, “I remember you doing that, but not when or where,
either.” He glanced at Masif. “But it was her first Storm Ride. It’s not
unusual to have a student panic.”

Masif
poured himself a cup of tea. “Rather like taking an Apprentice up the
scaffolding of a spire, I’d imagine. You’re not sure what they’ll do when the
excitement wears off.”

“Sounds
right,” Jaquar said.

Marian
continued with her story. “Anyway, my head went foggy. The Songs disappeared.
There was this awful noise like pinging, then an—” She looked at Alexa and said
in English, “It sounded like an engine revving too high, ready to blow.”

Alexa
nodded.

Marian
turned back to the men. She didn’t know the Lladranan word for
engine
,
hadn’t seen any such thing. “A very high-pitched noise, long and rising. Then I
felt things hitting me. I thought it was sleet.” She glanced at the pile of
frink husks and quickly away, then gulped her tea.

Reaching
out, Alexa patted her arm. “Hideous.”

Marian
tried a weak smile. “Yes.”

The
men stared at her for a long moment.

“I
would say that the Townmaster is right. You felt the frinks, even their evil
cloud, while I didn’t. Something the Dark can mask from us but not you,
perhaps. Extrapolating from the experiences of both you and Alyeka, the frinks
cannot make contact with you, or if they do, they die.”

“This
is a great discovery,” Masif said. “With your aid, Scholar, we might forestall
any more frinks from falling live and burrowing into the ground.” He looked at
Jaquar again. “Does the Tower Community know what evil the frinks will do to
the land?”

Jaquar
shook his head. “No. We are watching them, just as you Cityfolk and farmers
are. We do not know what disaster they might be germinating. We have no records
of frinks, no Lorebook in which they are mentioned.”

“Nor
do the Marshalls,” said Alexa.

“Not
good,” said Masif.

Marian
took one last cup of tea and prepared to disappoint the man. “I’m sorry, but I
will not be able to help much.” She met Masif’s intent gaze. “I have a sick
younger brother at home. I am studying as much as I am able, with the hope that
something here might help him, perhaps even cure him and others who have his
disease. But I can’t stay here in Lladrana.” She braced for anger.

Instead
Masif’s face went impassive. He turned his head and the light touched the wide
band of silver at his left temple. “I lost a young sister,” he said, almost too
low for her to hear. He jerked a head at Jaquar. “The Circlet lost his parents.
I do not doubt that if we had had the chance to save them by visiting Exotique
Terre and returning, we would have done so.”

“Thank
you,” Marian said.

“We
Guildspeople of the cities and towns and fields thank
you
,” Masif said
gravely.

They
took their leave, and a few minutes later, Jaquar and Marian strolled through
the streets of Castleton. A Chevalier joined them and he and Alexa dropped back
to speak of Castle politics.

“It’s
a pretty city,” Marian said. “Very clean.”

“Very.
Not like the one I grew up it, but Krache is a seaport in the south, a lawless
city in both Lladrana and the country to the south, Shud.”

Marian
squeezed his hand. During their lovemaking, when they were connected mind to
mind, emotions to emotions, she’d received flashes of memories from him. She
supposed he had experienced the same. At least it wasn’t as detailed as the
memories that had flooded her during the blood-bond with Bossgond.