Sorceress of Faith Page 11

  Alexa nodded. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll find someone for you. I have connections in Castleton.”

  Bastien squeezed her and whirled her around in a circle. She shrieked.

  “If you think you’re going to Citymaster Masif alone, you’re wrong,” Bastien said. His voice was steady despite his exertion. The man was buff.

  Marian managed to rise somewhat gracefully, curtsied to the both of them, then left Alexa and Bastien to their pastoral idyll, feeling a little melancholy. The woman had certainly landed on her feet—though there was that comment about falling in battle. Perhaps she wasn’t much to be envied after all.

  Angling off toward the ocean so as not to intrude, Marian considered what she’d learned. At least she could still go back, with the Snap. She hoped fervently that she could return to Earth before Andrew got worried. She could check on him through the binoculars, and if she had the Power that everyone thought, that she felt, she’d discover the knowledge to help him and force her return before he was finished with his retreat.

  She was listening to the ocean, absently watching spray as the tide pummeled fierce rocks, when she stumbled into it. A tide of full orchestral sound flowed over her, heavy on the strings. She stopped. She stood in a large glade, green with grass. The sky seemed bluer, the clouds whiter, the view of the ocean perfect. She turned in place. The panorama was exquisite.

  Her heart thudded with recognition. This was her place.

  She acknowledged the thought, then added a caveat. This could be her place, the location where she’d build her Tower, if she stayed in Lladrana. But she wouldn’t.

  Though the world tempted her. During her time with Alexa, Marian had sensed that the Swordmarshall had a great need to be useful, contribute meaningfully to society. The idea echoed in Marian.

  And there was the fabulous magic. If she stayed, she could become a Circlet at controlling the weather. Was that cool, or what?

  But not at the cost of losing Andrew. She could never live with herself if she turned her back on him, chose this place instead of him. An inner, awful trembling came at the thought.

  So she determinedly left the glade and went on.

  As she drew up to the front of Bossgond’s Tower, she saw a large frog sitting on a paving stone in front of the door. Maybe it was a toad—she didn’t recall enough biology to distinguish them. It was green and about a foot long. Big, dark eyes watched her.

  “Well, look at you.” She smiled. She liked frogs.

  “Ribbitt.”

  “You do know that you’re blocking my way to the Tower?” she said, feeling a little like she was in a fairy tale.

  “Ribbitt.”

  Laughing, Marian said, “I hope you don’t expect me to kiss you.” There was something intrinsically beautiful about the frog.

  No, it said in her mind.

  “Excuse me?” She didn’t believe she’d heard it.

  You do not have to kiss me. I wanted to see and speak with the new Exotique. I am a feycoocu.

  Marian stared, mind scrambling, though she recalled Bossgond and Alexa talking about the magical being.

  I am Alexa’s companion.

  That reassured Marian a little, so she let her shoulders relax, closed her eyes and sighed. So many new things! Something to learn every minute.

  When she opened her eyelids, a fairy the size of the frog perched on the door lintel. Marian stared. “You’re not a frog.”

  No, and I am not really a fairy. I took that image from Alexa’s mind and yours. You have a different idea of fairies, though. She glanced at her gossamer wings, the long black hair that floated around her and her sparkling light-blue dress. She smiled in satisfaction. Good, I am not all pink. Being pink was a pain.

  She sounded like Alexa. Marian grinned.

  You are very Powerful.

  The fairy’s changing eyes mesmerized Marian. She fell into the gaze and was caught in a cloud, between dimensions, then abruptly landed with a jolt. She shook her head and blinked.

  You will do. The feycoocu’s voice appropriately sounded like windchimes. She launched herself from the door and pirouetted in the air. You will do very well. But it would be good if you had a companion.

  Marian swallowed. She wasn’t sure that she could deal with a magical sidekick. “You?”

  No, I love Alexa and will stay with her. The fairy’s smile bloomed, dazzling Marian. But you have just taken care of that matter yourself.

  “What?”

  Instead of answering, the feycoocu gestured and a small golden sphere appeared to hover between them. Take this and feed it to him.

  The thing plunked into the hollow of Marian’s palm so heavily that it drove her arm down and she staggered under the weight. By the time she’d braced her wrist with her other hand and lifted both hands to waist level, the fairy had transformed into a hawk and was flying away.

  “Wait, what—”

  Look for him in the place that called to you. Feed him the walnut. She paused, turning her head back, and speared Marian with a bright, glinting gaze. I am Sinafin. Guard my name, but call on me if you have need. She zoomed out of sight.

  Marian opened her hand. The heavy thing did look like a golden walnut.

  A companion. Andrew? The place that called to her—the meadow near the rocky beach with spraying surf. She ran, slowly and awkwardly due to the great weight of the magical nut. When she reached the meadow above the rocky beach, her breath came fast and raggedly.

  There, in the middle of the meadow, was Tuck in his ball.

  10

  Marian sprinted to Tuck, who sat in his plastic hamster ball in the middle of the green glade that had tempted her to stay in Lladrana.

  When she reached him, her legs simply collapsed. She thought she whimpered at the sight of her pet. He’d pulled an orange wildflower blossom through one of the plastic slots and sat, munching on it. In the bottom of the ball was a small hoard of nuts and raisins, and a bit of dried-up carrot that had been in his cheek pouches.

  He wasn’t lost. He wasn’t dead. He looked as fat and sassy as ever. Gently moving the ball until the door was at the top, she lifted off the lid, reached in and drew him out. Putting him against her face, she sniffed the unmistakable odor of hamster and cedar chips, felt the softness of his fur. It stuck to her cheek, to the track of her tears.

  She sat cross-legged and set Tuck in the folds of her skirt.

  He looked up with bright eyes and continued to eat, apparently happy to stay put. She could have sworn he smiled. Though he was a nocturnal animal, she supposed the circumstances—the trip through the corridor—how had he made it here?—the new world and the food kept him interested enough to stay awake.

  Marian heard herself croon his name. “Oh Tuck, oh Tuck.”

  He just ate on.

  With a little shock, she realized she’d dropped the walnut. Looking around, she didn’t see it; it hadn’t made a hole, and didn’t glow or anything. She bit her lip. The feycoocu had insisted that she feed Tuck the magical nut, but what would happen if she did? Would Tuck acclimatize better?

  Could Sinafin be trusted?

  Looking down at the small, new cut on her wrist where she and Alexa had shared the strange sensation of mixing blood, Marian sent her first telepathic message. Alexa, can you hear me?

  Yes came the immediate response.

  Marian received the vision that Alexa and Bastien were flying back to their estate on the mainland.

  Though she didn’t need to speak aloud, Marian wet her lips. Can Sinafin be trusted?

  There was a pause. Sinafin can be trusted to do what is best for Lladrana, Alexa replied.

  That didn’t help much. But Sinafin had approved of Marian, and had wanted her to have a companion.

  Alexa said, Sinafin says that the walnut will not hurt Tuck. It will make him better.

  I lost it. I dropped it when I saw Tuck, I think.

  If you have a connection, you might be able to draw it to you if you visualize it.<
br />
  Marian stroked Tuck, but he still seemed happy to stay in her lap. In fact, he’d curled into a ball to sleep. She closed her eyes and formed an image of the walnut.

  A spurt of surprise came from Alexa. So Sinafin took it. I never thought of it after my first night here.

  What?

  It’s an atomball.

  Something in the tone of Alexa’s thoughts sparked unease in Marian. Is it dangerous? Sinafin said to feed it to Tuck.

  She heard Alexa’s sigh in her mind. Just be careful. Call it slowly. Think of it rolling to you.

  Marian did, and felt a pull at her mind as if a thread were attached to a ball she was rolling toward herself. A moment later, something tapped the sole of her foot. It was the atomball. Now it glowed. I have it. Thank you, Alexa.

  Glad to be of help. Do you need me to stay in contact?

  Marian wanted to say yes, but decided it was cowardly and an imposition. No.

  Feel free to yell if you need help, Alexa said.

  That’s what Sinafin said. Thank you both.

  Don’t thank her until everything is all over, Alexa said dryly. She has her own agenda.

  Marian swallowed. Thank you, then.

  Bye, said Alexa, and the telepathic connection went still.

  With both hands, Marian scooped up the golden walnut. It was the size of a real walnut, but she didn’t know how she was going to convince Tuck to eat it. She shifted her legs so she could put the walnut on her dress against the ground instead of in her lap, and set it next to a sleep-snuffling Tuck.

  He unrolled. His ears perked up. The hamster crawled over the walnut several times, from several directions, then bit in and gobbled greedily. The nut disappeared into Tuck at an amazing rate. She thought she heard him burp, but hamsters didn’t do that. Then he looked up at her and blinked his black eyes, wiggled his nose and curled back up to sleep.

  Marian stayed in the meadow for a long time, petting Tuck with one finger. Both the lovely wildflowers and the animal soothed her. The quiet seemed almost luminescent as it sank into her bones.

  When she lifted Tuck, he felt slightly heavier, but nothing like the golden-walnut atomball. She’d have to fashion a cage—Bossgond would help, she was sure. She put Tuck back in his plastic ball, set the lid atop the ball but did not screw it closed, and rose.

  She could see Bossgond’s Tower from here, and walked back to it, musing that she now had three things from her old life. Tuck, her PDA, and a clear, plastic hamster ball. Life was odd.

  Bossgond awaited her, arms crossed, frowning—until he saw the ball and Tuck. Then the gleam of a true scholar lit his eyes. “What’s that?”

  “This is my hamster, Tuck, and his vehicle.”

  “Vehicle?” Bossgond reached for it.

  Marian slipped Tuck from the ball and cradled him in her hands. He didn’t stir. She handed the ball to Bossgond.

  “I met the feycoocu,” she said casually, but kept a sharp gaze on the old Sorcerer.

  All his attention focused back on her. “Yes? What did it look like?”

  Marian started to correct him—to call “it” a “she”—then decided against it. “First a large frog, then a fairy.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “She told me to feed Tuck—” Marian lifted the hamster for emphasis “—an atomball.”

  Bossgond took a couple of steps back, glanced a little nervously at Tuck. “An atomball? Where did the feycoocu get an atomball? What did it look like? I’ve never heard such a thing.”

  “Tuck ate it,” Marian said.

  Eyes wide, Bossgond jerked his chin at the stairs. “Let’s go up to my suite. I want to study this.”

  The day had faded into evening, and the moment they walked through the door, inside lights flared on. They were set in torch holders, but obviously magic, glowing like the natural light of the sun. Bossgond strode to his desk and placed the clear plastic hamster ball on it.

  “This is a very interesting substance,” he muttered, tapping at the ball. “Not glass.”

  “No.” Marian studied Tuck, beginning to worry. He was so still, but his small back still rose and fell with his breathing. “I need a cage for Tuck.”

  Bossgond waved a hand and a low cabinet door opened in the wall. Marian went over and bent down, then sighed. It appeared to be an old aquarium. Tuck wouldn’t like it. He preferred a nice plastic cage with many toys and tubes.

  Bossgond assigned Marian some “basic” lessons and spent the evening studying the plastic ball and sleeping Tuck. He’d sworn not to hurt either one.

  After she’d demonstrated to Bossgond that she could ground herself, call fire and cause a bean to sprout, he allowed her to work with clouds in the weather globe. It thrilled Marian to play with the clouds. She couldn’t create them, or make them rain, but she could push them around the globe and form images in them—they wisped, then billowed into castles and dragons and a huge tree—the world tree. Every culture had a symbol for the world—a globe, a serpent, an egg, a circle, but Marian had always liked the world tree the best. With a glance at Bossgond, she wickedly made a caricature of the man, then his Tower.

  Finally she got bored with her limitations and interrupted him as he was tickling a sprawled Tuck’s belly. Marian had the idea that Bossgond was imagining the hamster’s anatomy.

  Alexa’s description of the Snap earlier in the day bothered Marian. She needed more details. “Alexa told me of the Snap today.”

  “A very interesting phenomenon, the Snap,” Bossgond said, staring at her, fingers pyramided, tips tapping. He nodded once. “It is an event. The Exotique land will bring you back to it.”

  Marian blinked. It was that easy? Just wait and she’d be returned automatically? That didn’t seem right. She shook her head. “I felt the loss of my connection with Mother Earth.” Her chin wanted to tremble so she set her jaw. “It’s gone.” It hurt.

  His fingers continued to tap. “Very interesting information.” He looked at her, then reached out and picked up a sheet of paper and a writing instrument. He made a note. “Perhaps, then, the Snap is not a link to your planet. Perhaps this is an effect of the Dimensional Gate.”

  Now he tapped his lips with the pen. “No Circlet is currently studying the Dimensional Gateway, or Corridor. We will have to rely on lorebooks about the topic.” He made more notes. “The closest thing the Tower Community has to experts on different dimensions are me and…Jaquar Dumont, the plane-walker.” He looked up from his pad at her.

  She knew the name, knew the man. The great-looking guy who’d tried to claim her first. She suppressed a shiver at the memory of her reaction to his touch—the searing certainty that somehow he was her doom. Fate, and not a nice one.

  Bossgond grunted as he studied her expression. “We won’t speak of him now.”

  Marian straightened. “You’re my teacher.”

  “That I am.”

  “When does the Snap occur?” She yanked the conversation back to the topic.

  “It is individual to the person.”

  Marian narrowed her eyes. “Someone must have kept a record, studied it.”

  “Someone did.”

  She released a pent-up breath. “May I have the record, please?”

  He turned to her with raised brows. “I don’t think the records we have on the Exotiques and the Snap will illuminate you, but I will give you the Snap Lorebook.” With a sly smile, he snapped his fingers and a piece of paper appeared between them.

  “That’s it? The Lorebook?”

  “Yes. An Exotique usually works with the Marshalls. The last one before Alyeka was Summoned for the Singer and the Friends of the Singer.”

  That was the prophetess, the spiritual basis of Lladrana. “So?”

  “So Exotiques have not been of a bent to record great details of the Snap, or their passage to Lladrana. We Circlets must extrapolate. Alyeka has provided the most detail of the experience. I trust you will report your passage also.”

  “Of course.
” She went and took the sheet from him. It was hardly more than a list.

  It was the first “reading” she’d attempted since she’d bonded with Bossgond. She had hoped it would be as easy as absorbing the language. It wasn’t. The alphabet was subtly strange, not quite the Greco-Roman alphabet.

  Bossgond indicated the writing at the top. Squinting a little, Marian could make out the name “Thomas Lindley,” a range of dates and a phrase.

  Bossgond’s finger underlined the phrase. “Two weeks,” he said. The words appeared a neon white in her mind, then reshaped into English, then returned to Lladranan.

  Okay, reading would be more difficult and take time…but if she was patient, the words and meanings might come to her.

  “Thomas Lindley, two weeks,” Marian repeated, moving her fingers under the words. To the right of the time was a word in red. All down the list the last word was in red or blue. It looked as if three-quarters of the words were blue, one-quarter red. Marian indicated the word. “This means?”

  “Returned,” he said gruffly. “Thomas chose to return to the Exotique land.”

  Marian’s pulse picked up. “There’s a choice.” Alexa had said so, but Marian needed—emotionally more than mentally—to have it confirmed.

  Bossgond angled his head to stare into her eyes. His own were dark pools of brown-black, expressionless. “The individual chooses to stay or go. This list is currently arranged according to the length of time between Summoning and the Snap.” He pointed to the last name on the page, about halfway down the sheet, “Jessica Smith.” His finger hovered over the time-period column. “Seven years, three moons, twelve days,” Bossgond read.

  “Seven years! The Snap took that long for her? Why?”

  “No one knows.”

  The last word for Jessica was “Stayed.” Marian imagined so. After seven years a person would have a whole new life.

  “Time passes the same,” she said.

  He patted her shoulder with a knobby hand. “As far as we know, yes. Our time units are nearly the same, also. Perhaps because our lands are close to each other along the Dimensional Corridor.”