Sorceress of Faith (49 page)

With
a big smile, Bossgond slipped into the chair with a carved back of a tower. He
tugged Marian’s hand and she sat next to him in a chair with a shield. The
other Circlets followed. Jaquar was at the far end of the table. After one
glance at his strained expression caused her stomach to pitch, Marian looked
away, observing others.

Lady
Hallard greeted Marian with a short nod, then took the chair showing an almost
three-dimensional volaran on its back.

Everything
neat and tidy. Everyone in their place. Marian approved.

As
soon as they all settled, Lady Knight Swordmarshall Thealia Germaine called the
Council to order, then introduced Marian—as a Circlet of the Fifth Degree.

Marian
stood, not knowing exactly where to start. Then Tuck ran down her arm from her
shoulder to her hand, which lay on the table. He strutted to the middle of the
table, sat back on his haunches, wiggled his butt as if to get comfortable and
opened a rounded mouth.

A
projection like a hologram appeared in front of him, in a three-foot sphere.

Marian
stood dazed and vacant-eyed in the middle of a series of pentacles. She woke
suddenly and completely, then threw herself against a barrier
.

It
didn’t give
.

“Line
up against the second pentacle immediately,” Chalmon commanded
.

Tuck
showed everything in gruesome, colorful, amplified detail—from his own
perspective. Marian couldn’t watch, wanted to put her hands over her eyes, to
slink from the room. Instead she sank back into her chair, closed her eyes and
suffered through the betrayal again.

She
heard a chair slide against the wooden floor, and someone came to stand behind
her. Jaquar didn’t touch her, didn’t try to renew the bond between them, but
his aura wrapped around her in warm support. She didn’t know how he did that,
but she was grudgingly grateful for his presence. Everyone else around her was
completely enthralled by the show.

Now
and then people gasped with horror, swore or muttered phrases she didn’t
understand. The comments around her were often drowned out by her whimpering,
moaning, occasional screams in the movie.

Her
hands fisted in her lap. Bad enough to relive this, without understanding that
she hadn’t shown much courage.

When
she heard Tuck squeaking wildly, “Marian, Marian, Marian!” she opened her eyes
to see herself, face expressionless and body completely motionless, surrounded
by a backdrop of black, seething smoke.

Marian
froze in her seat. The larder. Obviously Tuck hadn’t been affected.

In
the hologram her eyes darted from side to side, but appeared unseeing. She
opened her mouth and screamed so loudly that the small diamond-shaped
windowpanes rattled and jolted several of the people at the table. Jaquar
tensed behind her. She realized he was swearing under his breath, words she
couldn’t guess at.

Now
Marian couldn’t look away from herself hanging there. In the hologram, her
hands fisted and lifted before her face. “Maybe we should fast-forward, Tuck?”

Alexa
choked. She looked pale and turned tear-filled eyes to Marian. “What was
happening to you?” Her whisper was hoarse.

Shrugging,
Marian said, “Nothing. I felt nothing. No physical sensations at all.” She
grimaced. “That’s why you see all the contortions—”

“Quiet!”
snapped Thealia, cocking her head to listen.

On
screen, Marian was tapping her heels together and chanting, “
There’s no
place like home
.”

She
squirmed in her chair.

Alexa
choked on a sob, sniffled. Her lips curved upward. “Might’ve worked, who
knows?”

“It
didn’t.” Then she realized that in Tuck’s movie, a low chant hummed around her.
She strained to catch the words. Everyone at the table did.

Thealia
hissed and leaned back in her chair. “I can’t quite understand the words.
They’re mangled.”

A
murmur of agreement ran around the room.

Marian
looked at Alexa. “Alexa?”

Alexa
shrugged. “No, of course not.”

“They’re
French,” Marian said.

Everyone
stared at her.

Flushing,
Alexa said, “I’m bad with languages.”

Marian
tilted her head. “And maybe some bastardized Latin. Anyway it started out with
the witches’ scene from
Macbeth
.”

Alexa’s
mouth dropped open. “You read Shakespeare in
French?
” Then her brows
drew together. “Like ‘eye of newt, toe of frog’?” she asked in English.

“Yes.”
Marian translated for the Lladranans. “We’re listening to archaic French and
Latin demonic spells. Maybe that’s why I came to the conclusion I did.”

At
that moment, Marian-in-the-movie twitched and began screaming, “Sinafin!”

“I
think we should definitely stop this production,” Marian said.

“No,
let’s watch it to the end,” Thealia said.

Sitting
back, Marian noticed that Jaquar had taken his seat at the end of the table.
His hands were tight fists atop the table and he appeared to be staring into
space.

Beethoven’s
Ninth Symphony filled the room, and both Marian and Alexa broke into relieved
laughter.

Luthan
leaned forward and asked Marian, “What is the name of this Song again, Circlet
Marian?”

“It’s
the Ninth Symphony by Ludwig van Beethoven.”

His
lips moved as if memorizing the information. Then he nodded and resumed his
impassive expression.

Tuck
soon finished with the show and Beethoven’s music cut off abruptly. Tuck
exhaled a huge sigh and rocked onto his back, paws curled. If Marian hadn’t
felt the strong thrum of his Song through their bond, she’d have thought him
dead. Not even a digit twitched.

“Tuck!”
Alexa cried.

“He’s
weary, but not debilitated,” Marian said. She scooped him up and cradled him in
her hands. “You were a star,” Marian whispered to him. He opened one gleaming
eye, closed it. Then she set him on her lap.

“Get
some food and water for the hamster,” Thealia ordered.

A
woman Marian hadn’t noticed before stared at Tuck, then hurried to the door.
“What kind of food?”

“Nuts,
Umilla, bits of fresh fruit,” Alexa said patiently, and Marian realized the
serving woman was a black-and-white, like Bastien.

Marian
felt erratic bursts of Power pulsing from her.

The
woman bobbed her acknowledgment and scurried from the room.

“So.”
Thealia tapped her finger on the table, gazing at Marian. “What are your
conclusions?”

Inhaling
deeply, Marian prepared herself. “The master is a Circlet gone bad.”

“Over
to the Dark Side.” Alexa’s mouth twitched.

Marian
blinked. “Yes. When I was with him, I sensed he’d apprenticed with a Circlet on
one of the islands, but the man failed when he tried to raise his Tower.”

One
of the female Circlets shivered. “When that happens, a mind can be fractured,
the energy can warp one physically, too.”

“A
Circlet of the First or Second Degree,” Bossgond said, shrugging with
dismissal.

Irritation
spurted through Marian. The people in this room were the most Powerful in the
land, perhaps in the world of Amee, but most displayed the arrogance that came
with such power.

She
met Alexa’s steady green gaze. The woman dipped her head and Marian felt
another tie of kinship. Marian had all too often been sneered at when she
appeared in the “society” circles her mother preferred. And Marian knew there
were several “misfits” at the table. Bastien, the black-and-white; herself;
Alexa, the Exotique and former foster child; even Jaquar. He was a man who’d
been abandoned as a boy because of his Exotique coloring. Yet all of them had
found their way into the circles of Power.

The
door opened and the serving woman brought in a large bowl of nuts, a grainy
composite that looked like granola, and bits of apple and pear. Tuck perked up
in Marian’s lap.

He
reached the bowl as it was placed on the table and dove in, chirping with
delight.

“This
‘Master.’” Bossgond fingered his lower lip. “He was very large. I can think of
only four male Circlets who failed to raise their Tower.” He named them. “And
none of them was above average height or weight. Raising a Tower can warp you,
but not add mass.”

“Perhaps
the one he serves gave him…more, or his diet.” Marian shut her mouth. She
didn’t want to think about the tentacles on his face and what his diet might
be.

Bossgond
scanned the room. “All the Circlets here have raised their Towers. We cover
several generations. Can you think of anyone I didn’t?”

Silence
held the room for several heartbeats.

“Bonhlyar,”
Jaquar said. “He was normal, too.” An undertone in his voice made Marian think
that Bonhlyar hadn’t considered
Jaquar
normal.

“Bonhlyar,”
Marian muttered. It rang a bell. “Not—oh! He calls himself Mahlyar, now.” She’d
received a lot of information from his blood and spittle that had seared her.

“Ah,”
said Bossgond. “I was never convinced that his Circlet Testing was properly
witnessed.”

“What
else did you learn of the master?” Thealia asked.

“He
serves the Dark. He is the one who breeds and organizes the horrors, both in
the maw and in a breeding ground to the north of Lladrana,” Marian said.

“We
knew that,” said a Circlet.

“
I
didn’t. No one told me,” Marian shot back.

There
was an embarrassed silence.

“We
were informed rather late ourselves,” Thealia said steadily. “Obviously the
Singer has been right all along that the efforts of the various communities
need to be integrated.”

“The
master forms them into battle groups, and orders them where the Dark wants them
sent. The Dark has Power to transport them from the maw to other places, but
not in large groups.”

Marian
licked her lips. “There’s more.” She felt the weight of their stares. “I think
the Dark is not native to Lladrana.”

“That
has been extrapolated before,” Thealia agreed.

“I
think it came through the Dimensional Corridor.” Marian frowned. “Though when I
was in the nest, I got this feeling of…immensity…immense age and immense size.”

“And
immense evil,” Alexa said. “Fire-breathing dreeths.” She covered her eyes. “The
master got that idea from me. I’m
so
sorry.” She shook her head. “You
were wise to shield your mind.”

Marian
blinked. “How did you know?”

Alexa
dropped her hands. “Weren’t you watching—no, of course you shouldn’t have. But
the Power aura around your head was quite clear.”

They
saw much more than she would have believed they could. It had been a mistake
not to watch, not to see what everyone else had. She stiffened her spine. She’d
have to live the events a third time, have Tuck repeat it for her again, so she
could observe every nuance. She
hated
making mistakes. More often than
not, they hurt.

Thealia
leaned forward and pierced Marian with her gaze. “You were Sent there and
Summoned back. When you were there, you formed an image of the location of the
nest in your mind. Tell me you know where the nest is physically.”

Her
voice held the command of a spell, but only her emotional need affected Marian.

30

M
arian looked
around, managed a reassuring smile. “Do you have a globe?”

Someone
whistled and a big globe appeared before her. Marian located Lladrana, followed
the curve of the continent northwest beyond the two seas—one landlocked, one
not—and pointed to an island of one high volcanic mountain. “Here,” she said.

“Of
course,” whispered Bossgond.

“Damn!”
Thealia slapped the table. She shook her head. “Too far to launch an immediate
attack. We might ask for volunteers to survey the place.”

“Not
yet,” Jaquar said. “Let the Tower observers gain as much information about it
from all the planes, first.”

Thealia
pursed her lips, nodded. “Fine.” She looked at Marian again. “Other
conclusions? You said you knew why it was invading.”

“I
think the Dark originally came through the Dimensional Corridor here.” She
struggled to put into words the deductions she’d formed from clues she’d picked
up unconsciously. She’d been too terrified at the time to put the puzzle
together, but had since examined every detail. Shrugging, she pulled Tuck from
where he was wallowing in his food bowl and put him back on the table. “Replay
that time—” She gulped. “After the master struck me.”

Tuck
started the replay with Marian throwing the brithenwood stick into the master’s
eye. Oddly enough, the bloody scene comforted her. She’d defended herself, and
hadn’t done too badly.