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Authors: Robin D. Owens

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BOOK: Sorceress of Faith
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“I
would be honored to teach you to use your Power,” he’d said. The cadence of his
words had hummed through her, feeling
right
. She felt inherently she
could trust him, unlike everyone else in this place. There was a smoothness of
the energy of his intentions toward her that didn’t come from anyone else in
the room.

Every
other person who had touched her had
snags
in their Power flow toward
her that she’d recognized as self-interest, specific goals in their minds as to
how to use her. Bossgond hadn’t.

She
understood now that the circle of people who’d brought her to this place were
called Marshalls. She’d picked that word up. She’d always been a quick study
and didn’t think the language would pose much of a problem, especially since it
was close to French.

The
Marshalls still ringed the pentacle, grouped in pairs and watching with
interest. Since they’d been chanting when she’d come here, they had to be the
ones who’d burdened her life over the past month. Their music was unique. The
crystal lamps made of great gemstones and arranged in the colors of the chakra
were the chimes she had heard. And she knew the sound of the silver gong.

Yet
she didn’t feel at ease with those pairs dressed in matching colors, clinking
with chain mail under their rich robes and carrying weapons. She didn’t care
for this enormous, echoing Temple. Something about the atmosphere raised all
the fine hair on her body.

Then
there were the other magicians. The handsome Jaquar scowled at her from outside
the pentagram, almost vibrating with intensity. Oddly enough, she could hear a
stream of melodious notes coming from him and it lured her.
No. Absolutely
not
. That wasn’t right. She trusted her instinctive impression of him as
someone who could harm her deeply.

These
people seemed to use music in their magic, but it was still difficult to
believe that the trickle of tunes she heard from them was anything but her
imagination.

She
usually soaked in and analyzed everything around her, but all the new
experiences demanded that she shut down the overflow of sensory information for
self-preservation. She stepped closer to Bossgond.

Marian
clutched the cape. The lining was soft and warm. She swayed to the chant.
Bossgond had a fabulous voice. She’d enjoy listening to it, learning from him.

Slam!
The huge door
to the Temple hit the stone wall and a small woman shot into the room, followed
by a big man who was reaching for her.

“Alexa!”
the man called.

Unlike
everyone else, the woman was pale-skinned, with a white scar on one cheek,
short in stature, and though she had silver hair, she appeared young.

The
Marshalls started to surround her.

“Wait!”
the woman called. In English.

Bossgond
gripped Marian’s upper arm hard and sped up his chant, the rhythm now almost
syncopated, making her dizzy with the energy surrounding them.

The
Marshalls’ protests drowned out most of the woman Alexa’s words. Marian heard,
“Wait! I came as soon as I could. You need to know, you’re in Lladrana—”

Magic
coalesced around Marian and Bossgond, a huge pressure of Power. She tried to
take a step forward, but was held in place by an invisible force.

“Can
I go home?” Marian cried, straining to hear.

“Not
yet,” Alexa called.

“How
soon?” Marian yelled.

Alexa
shrugged. “Maybe a month!”

Marian
bit her lip. What if Andrew returned earlier or had an exacerbation during his
retreat? She could lose him! She would definitely lose her college fund…and her
job.

What
should she do? What
could
she do?

Her
ritual had been in part to find help for Andrew. These people might be able to
cure him. She’d just have to find the information and get back to him fast.

The
man who’d followed Alexa plucked her from an irritated circle of Marshalls.
Holding her protectively, he ran with her to the edge of the pentacle.

Alexa
met Marian’s gaze. “Make sure you ask about Pair-Bonding. And the Snap!”

Bossgond
intoned,
“Vont!”

The
room disappeared. Vertigo hit Marian, and in the next instant she fell onto a
thick rug into which was woven a red pentagram.

“Gagghhh,”
she croaked. Brilliant. Wonderful impression to make on her teacher—and now the
man whose power she was under.

Surely
she could beat him physically if she had to, couldn’t she? Heaven knew she had
heft.

But
he sat next to her, watching with concerned eyes, then stooped and brushed back
her hair. Then he took her hand and helped her up with unexpected strength,
banished the flowing energy lines around his pentagram with a whistle. Then he
led her to a soft chair that looked a lot like a fancy outdoor lounger. A
series of velvet pillows was attached to an adjustable wooden frame; the back
was set in a reclined position and the footrest was elevated.

Marian
sat, leaned back and arranged the cloak in folds around her. She’d kept a good
grip on the front since receiving the cape and it had only flapped open a
little now and then, but had saved her modesty.

In
Lladrana.

Alexa
had called it Lladrana. Who was she, and why wasn’t
she
the one helping
Marian?

Bossgond,
who’d gone to a sink on the far side of the Tower, came back with a goblet of
water. From the sprig of leaves that floated on top she guessed it wasn’t just
water. She picked the greenery out of the cup and sniffed. Minty. She dropped
the leaves back into the drink and, keeping her eyes on the old man, swallowed
a bit.

He
smiled in reassurance, took the cup from her, drank some himself and handed it
back. Had she looked that suspicious?

Bossgond
went to a large cabinet and opened it. Out floated a sphere the size of an
exercise ball. Large and blue-green-brown, it rotated slowly. Marian’s stomach
tightened when she realized it was a globe, but that the oceans and continents
were unknown to her. She looked away.

“Amee,”
Bossgond said.

First
things first. Finding out how time passed on this new world was of the utmost
importance. All around her and through her, magic surged like electricity. She
should be able to master it and use it to help Andrew, but how much time did
she have?

She
stood and moved closer to the globe, saw three large continents and a
countrylike portion outlined in black.

When
the globe completed one full rotation, she said, “One day.” As it continued to
move, she ticked off the days on her hand.

Feeling
a little foolish, she continued with her mime. She drew a pentagram, then sat
on the floor. “Earth!” she said.

With
skinny little brows raised, he said, “Exotique Terre.”

“Terra.”
She nodded.

His
eyebrows rose higher. “Exotique Terre.”

Marian
sighed and repeated, “Exotique Terre.” With whooshing sounds and wide gestures,
and more noises to indicate the gong and chimes and chants, she acted out her
trip to Lladrana.

Then
she went to the globe again and counted days as it rotated, tilting her head in
a question. Was any of this getting through?

Bossgond
frowned, then crossed his tower room to more shelves and cupboards. He returned
with a crude globe of Earth, about five inches around. When she took the heavy
ball of metal, she sensed someone from her own world had made it. The echoes of
the Song of Mother Earth lingered. She could do better.

Narrowing
her eyes, she concentrated, reaching deep inside her for the Earth-song. While
she was at it, she visualized the continents and oceans as best she could. Not
well enough. She closed her eyes and thought of space shots of the earth, radar
and Doppler weather maps, especially of the United States, and Colorado.

The
metal in her hands warmed. When she opened her eyes, the globe looked a lot
better, the land masses and oceans well-defined. She scowled at the eastern
coastline of the United States. Something was definitely off there; Australia
and Asia weren’t as sharp as on a regular globe. Not perfect. Her shoulders
slumped.

Bossgond’s
bony fingers closed over her shoulder and squeezed. Catching her gaze with his
own chocolate-brown one, he gave a little bow. “Thank you. You have increased
my knowledge of Exotique Terre tenfold.”

He
was trying to drive another point home. She was well aware of a teacher’s body
language. Cradling the Earth globe in the crook of his arm, he touched the much
larger orb with his index finger.

“Amee.”
He glanced at her, eyes piercing. “Thay parfay.”

Ah,
the words were close enough to French. The image of planet Amee wasn’t perfect.

So
he could sense her emotions, or perhaps he just read her dissatisfaction with
her construct in her face.

She
sighed.

Bossgond
released the Earth-globe and it hung next to the large one of Amee. Earth
rotated slower, in sync with Amee’s days and nights. Amazing that the days were
the same—or perhaps this was an alternative earth—but with different
continents? Maybe all the planets with similar rotations were reached by one
dimensional corridor….

Marian’s
head hurt. She had too little information for hypothesis, and so much was
happening.

All
the tension in her body at the thought of being trapped here and Andrew
worrying himself into seizures released in a long shudder. Weary, she swallowed
hard, walked stiffly back to the lounge chair and sank into the pillows,
closing her eyes.

When
she opened them, she gazed up at Bossgond, feeling lost. He urged her to drink
more of the herbal liquid, and she did. Her stomach calmed.

Bossgond
touched her shoulder. “Marian,” he said. Tapping his chest, he said,
“Bossgond.”

He
was encouraging her, emphasizing how much she’d already learned. That she was
learning with every breath, with every glance.

He
took her hand and linked their fingers. She sensed great age. Vitality,
isolation.

Looking
down at their hands, she saw a white aura, heard chords forming into a song. He
smiled, and she found herself smiling back. Bossgond patted her hand and rose.

He
went to the pentagram and fished out the large crystal ball from his bag, then
returned. With a little tune, mist swirled inside the sphere, then solidified
into the image of the handsome magician who’d first entered the pentacle with
her.

“Jaquar
Dumont,” Bossgond said.

Marian
remembered the older woman who’d spoken for the Marshalls calling him that, in
flat tones.
Jaquar
.

“Chalmon
Pace,” Bossgond said, and the other mage’s face replaced Jaquar’s.

He
looked like a pompous associate professor, ever conscious of his status and
sure of his worth. Still, there was something in his eyes that made Marian
think he could be a good friend. His image faded.

The
female magician appeared in the sphere. “Venetria Fourney,” said Bossgond.

The
strikingly beautiful woman was easy to recall. They’d both received shocks when
the woman touched her. Marian rubbed her fingers and grimaced at the memory.
She’d liked the look of Venetria, but since they’d shocked each other and
Bossgond and she meshed, if the conflicting energy was any indication, they
wouldn’t work well together.

Marian
caught her breath as she reran the thought. Wasn’t she being cool and
analytical about all these strange and wondrous things? Perhaps it
was
a
dream. When she went to bed and woke up, maybe everything would be fine. Tuck
would wake her up in the middle of the night by running on his wheel or
rattling in his cage, rearranging his hoard….

Right
now, all she knew was here. She licked her lips. Marian wondered about Alexa.
She’d liked the look of her better than the rest. Marian tapped the ball with a
fingernail.

“Alexa?”

The
woman’s image formed. To her surprise, Marian saw the small figure dressed in
jeans and a down parka with knit hat, scarf and mittens, trudging through snow
in the mountains. She recognized the parka as one she’d admired in a local
boutique. Colorado? Was Alexa from Colorado, too? Excitement flooded Marian and
she nearly missed seeing Alexa enter a silver arch.

Several
seconds later, the woman appeared in the same pentacle as Marian had, except
that the energy lines of this one glowed green.

Her
parka was ripped, her hat gone, and her hair was brown. Not silver, as Marian
had seen. Something had turned Alexa’s hair silver since she arrived. Some
experience here in Lladrana.

 

J
aquar wanted to
leave the Temple, fast. Since the Marshalls were dismissing the pentacle, none
of the Circlets would be able to leave that way.

His
mind raced, considering plans to retrieve the new Exotique. He ignored
Chalmon’s and Venetria’s recriminations. Unlike them, he had friends in the
Castle.

BOOK: Sorceress of Faith
2.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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