Sorceress of Faith (51 page)

Bossgond
and Jaquar stood by a large library table under a bank of windows. The desk was
covered with papers held down by various objects.

The
men were a study in contrasts—Jaquar big and handsome and young, Bossgond small
and bony and wrinkled.

But
the sharpness in their eyes showed their minds, and Bossgond’s Song had an
echoing depth and brilliance that Jaquar had not yet achieved.

They
were master Sorcerers.

Now
she was, too.

Jaquar
met her gaze with dark blue eyes shadowed with pain he made no effort to mask.
She had to look away, especially since her loss of their bond throbbed with the
same hurt.

“Come
here, come here,” said Bossgond. “Look at this sketch of the Dimensional
Corridor that Jaquar and I have done.”

She
walked over to the table. The white papers only emphasized the green of the
fields and forests seen from the windows.

The
paper on top looked old. It showed an octagonal tube with round doors or
portals on each side. She touched her forefinger to the drawing and inhaled
sharply as the residual Song of the person who’d drawn this conjured up the
brief vision she’d had of the corridor between worlds.

“Yes,”
she said. “It was like this, except I didn’t notice all the doors, or that
there were other angles with portals.”

Bossgond
said, “We believe this corridor links eight worlds, all generally alike, and
the easiest passage is between opposite doors. The drawing shows the axis of
Exotique Terre and Amee as the angles that are ninety degrees to us, or
straight up. We think the angles slowly rotate so that eventually Amee is
closer to some other world than Exotique Terre, but it is only from Exotique
Terre that we have Summoned others.”

“So
I should ignore the other angular walls with doors if I am able to control my
trip through the corridor.” She sure didn’t want to get stuck somewhere else,
where dimensional travelers weren’t understood or welcomed. Dreadful scenarios
flashed through her mind. She banished them, concentrated on the drawing.

“That
would be safest,” Jaquar said in a raspier tone than usual.

“Indeed,”
Bossgond said absently, riffling through a stack of papers.

“The
Dark knows of the corridor and can open it,” she whispered.

Jaquar
nodded abruptly. “Yes. Because it sent a render after Alexa. But we will
protect you.” His words hummed with a solemn vow.

Bossgond
crowed when he found the page he wanted. “With the help of some of the other
Circlets, we’ve calculated the days when you should be Sent and when we will
Summon you back.”

He
shoved a paper at her. “This copy is for you, to take when we return you. These
are the recent and upcoming dates that the Dimensional Corridor resonates best
between Exotique Terre and Amee. As you can see, the best time to Send you
would be the day after tomorrow, but that is far too soon to prepare us all for
a Sending Ritual. If it were a Summoning, it would be different—we know how to connect
and perform that spell, since we did so last night, but a Sending…no.”

Marian
took the paper and glanced down at it. She saw a bold red line-graph that
peaked a couple of days from now, smaller apexes along the line. Lladranan
dates were written horizontally beneath peaks and valleys. The largest peak, at
the far left side of the paper, was the day the Marshalls had Summoned her.
Another high mark was last night, when many of the Marshalls, Circlets and
Chevaliers had pulled her from the nest.

Bossgond
tapped the page Marian held. “Also included is the specific hour that is best
for our Summoning Rituals.” He looked at her from under lowered brows. “Since
you were first Summoned when you were performing your own Ritual, I think it
makes the connection between us and the chance for success all that stronger if
you do so again. I have written the chant that we will be using to Summon you
back, and the chant you should do at the same time.”

Marian
licked her lips. “I see.” She smiled weakly. “You’ve been busy.”

“I’ve
had help,” he said gruffly, nodding toward Jaquar but looking past him.
“Circlet Dumont drafted the chant.” Bossgond’s voice turned stiff. “He knows
you better in some ways than I do. Exotique Alyeka reviewed the words this
morning.”

“Quite
an effort. My thanks,” Marian said. She, too, dipped her head to Jaquar but
didn’t meet his eyes.

Bossgond
said, “Your task now is to place the dates of Exotique Terre beneath the
Lladranan dates, so the time corresponds to the moons and days that are the
most familiar to you.” He gestured to another small desk. “Do that now, and
when you are finished, you can go.” He looked pointedly at Jaquar. “The tension
in this room is too high.”

“Yes,
Bossgond,” Marian said. “When do you think you will Send me?”

He
pointed to a yellow star on a date six days ahead. “Here, within the week, and
the Summoning a few days after that.”

Marian
stared at the paper in dismay. Those times were a lot less favorable than all
the previous times, and she wanted it better—perfect—for Andrew. “It’s
diminishing. Couldn’t we wait until it builds again? Surely it does.”

“Yes,”
Jaquar said flatly. “But the Chevaliers have already approached the Marshalls
to do a joint Summoning for an Exotique of their own. I, and some other
Circlets—but not Bossgond—have agreed to participate.”

Marian
forced herself not to tremble. “I see.” She attempted another smile. “My
wanting to return to Exotique Terre and then come back here has placed a lot of
stress on you all.”

Jaquar
strode forward, held out his hand as if to touch her, then dropped it. “We need
you.” He cleared his throat. “Right, Bossgond?”

“Yes.
Go do your work, Marian.” Bossgond bent back over the table.

She
took the paper to the small desk, picked up a feather pen and tapped her cheek
with it. The first, highest peak showed the date of her Summoning underneath.
It had been the night of the full moon on Earth. She’d never forget the May
night—the full moon, the day before Andrew left for his retreat, the date of
the big charity ball that her mother had expected Marian to attend. She knew
the date well, and though she had come to think in terms of the days of the
Lladranan moons—moon months—she’d kept track of the time that had passed. It
only took her a moment to finish.

But
before she could show it to Bossgond for his approval, the Castle’s klaxon
sounded.

31

B
ossgond and
Jaquar looked toward the south and the volaran Landing Field. Marian jumped
from her seat, stuffed the piece of paper in her pocket, the note wrapping
around the vial of jerir.

Hurrying
to the windows, she reached them just in time to see the first flight of
volarans take off—all the Marshalls. She caught her breath at the awe-inspiring
flight. Sword and Shield Pairs in colorful battle armor flew, helms glistening.

The
Circlets watched in silence as Chevaliers followed the Marshalls, lifting into
the sky.

Marian
bit her lip. “They fly to battle often, don’t they?” Her hand went to the paper
in her pocket. “What if they are gone—or an alarm sounds during my Ritual?” She
hated being so selfish, but didn’t want to contemplate failure.

Again
Jaquar lifted a hand as if to cup her shoulder. Again he didn’t touch her.
Bossgond threw an arm around her and squeezed.

“You
are a Circlet, an Exotique. Lladrana needs you. The Tower needs you. I am sure
the Marshalls will do as they did before—”

“Summon
us at night? Both Alexa and I were Summoned at night, and it is rare for the
horrors to invade at night.” She was crushing the paper. “But all the rest of
the good times to Summon are during the day.” She’d noticed that.

“The
Marshalls will commit to Summoning you and perhaps some of the more Powerful
Chevaliers, too. If the alarm rings, others will go—lesser ranked Chevaliers.”

Blood
drained from her head. She leaned on Bossgond. “In that case, in sending
Chevaliers without the most Powerful, I may be the cause of deaths.”

“There
are always priorities, some people who are more expendable than others. I
assure you that the Marshalls protect Exotique Alexa more than any other person
in their group, and they would do the same for you,” Bossgond said.

Marian
didn’t like that thought, wanted for an instant to be held by Jaquar instead of
Bossgond, since his face had gone expressionless. She sensed he didn’t like
that option, either.

Straightening
her spine, she stepped back. “I’m finished with my exercise.” She showed the
crumpled paper to Bossgond. He glanced at it and grunted approval.

“I
saw the feycoocu flying with Alexa and Bastien, so Tuck should be back in my
rooms,” Marian said. The strain of being with Jaquar, wanting him and their
link, and disliking herself for that wanting, was becoming too much.

“Tuck
will probably not wish to be Sent back to Exotique Terre with you,” Jaquar said
quietly. “May I have your permission to ask him to stay in his house in my
Tower?”

Once
more Marian had visions of Tuck being dissected by Earth scientists. “I don’t
think he should return with me. You may ask him, and if I am not able to return
to Lladrana after I am sent, I would like you to offer to be his companion.”
She didn’t trust Bossgond entirely with Tuck, either.

Jaquar
bowed deeply. “I thank you for your faith in me in this matter.”

Marian
had no answer for that. She stared at Jaquar, wishing he’d been the incredible
man she’d considered him, a man in her eyes that had fantasy aspects. Too good
to be true. But he was all too human, and her disillusionment would take a
while to fade.
He had plotted her death.

Her
judgment of men sucked.

Emotions
churned inside her.

She
turned to Bossgond with one last question. “What’s next?”

He
scanned the room around him with approval. “It has been a long time since I
stayed at the Castle, and I’ve never been given the freedom of their library.”
He shrugged. “I don’t think they know what treasures they have. The closer I
bond with them, the easier it will be for us to link during Rituals. Also—” he grinned
“—they are an excellent source of monster parts for spell ingredients.”

That
was another thing she didn’t want to think of that might roil her
feelings—Alexa and Bastien at war, fighting monsters, and claiming trophies of
those that tried to kill them and were destroyed instead.

“So
you want to stay here?” Marian asked.

“Yes.
Some Circlets will visit me each day and we will tune to each other,
facilitating a link when it becomes necessary.”

“You
want me to remain here for the six days until I’ll be Sent back to Exotique
Terre?” Marian sank into a nearby chair, trying to ignore the hum of Jaquar’s
Song that insisted on feathering along her nerves.

“Yes.
The Marshalls should become better acquainted with you, your Power, your
skills.”

Marian
sighed and rubbed her arms. “Where are my things?”

“At
my Tower,” Jaquar said.

“I
have them,” said Bossgond at the same time.

“Spread
all over the countryside as usual,” Marian muttered.

Bossgond
glared at Jaquar. “You rent a volaran and gather
all
Marian’s possessions
in your Tower.
I
,” he continued grandly, “will tell my cook to pack your
things. Jaquar can fly to Alf Island, pick up the rest and deliver them here.”

Jaquar
narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

“Don’t
you want to check on your dimensional telescope?” Marian asked.

Bossgond’s
face went blank. The hair on the back of Marian’s neck rose. He was definitely
keeping something from her. She popped from her chair and gripped the front of
his tunic. “Andrew is all right, isn’t he?”

The
old mage patted her hands. “He is alive and as well as can be expected.” He
craned to scowl at Jaquar. “What are you waiting for?”

Lifting
an eyebrow, Jaquar said, “I have another task I must complete before I leave. I
will, of course, follow your orders.”

Marian
got the distinct feeling that both Bossgond and Jaquar himself were punishing
him for his actions. It made her uncomfortable.

Jaquar
glanced at her, and she saw that despite his casual manner and cool words, his
eyes were stormy. Was he watching her to see if she approved of him
flagellating himself?

“You
are welcome to stay in my Tower, ever and always, Marian.”

“Circlet
of the Fifth Degree Marian,” Bossgond said pointedly. “When she returns she
will be raising her own Tower, and I know she’s chosen a place on Alf Island,
with me!”

“The
stress in this room is certainly beyond what my frail nerves can stand,” Marian
said. She spared a sober look for each of them. “I do want to return, but it
will depend upon my brother Andrew’s needs. It isn’t certain that I—or Andrew
and I—will come back to Lladrana, or that a second Summoning will be a
success.”