He flicked a finger at the names and they rearranged themselves on the sheet. “Now the names are arranged according to most recently Summoned person.”
Excellent.
At the top, Marian read, “Alexa Fitzwalter,” scanned over to the far column and saw the blue word “Stayed.” She was the latest Exotique. After her was Thomas.
Marian scanned the list. “The Snap usually occurs between a week and six months.” Six months was too long for her to wait. If she wasn’t back by the time Andrew checked with her—probably as soon as he finished with the retreat—he’d move heaven and earth to find her. She didn’t want to contemplate how her loss might affect him, emotionally and physically.
She took the sheet of paper. It felt slick and repulsive and she gasped, letting it fall. Bossgond smiled humorlessly. “Parchment, made from a slayer.”
Marian recalled the yellow-furred creature with poisonous spines.
Bossgond picked it up and placed it back on the desk. “I know that Alexa told you of Lladrana’s—and Amee’s—peril.”
For comfort, Marian retrieved Tuck from Bossgond’s desk. He snuffled a little. Cradling him in her hands, she met Bossgond’s eyes seriously. “You know of my brother Andrew and his circumstances. I must be back home in a few weeks. I want you to promise me that you will help me return, if my Snap doesn’t occur before that time.”
Bossgond’s lips tightened. “I don’t know of anyone who has returned to Exotique Terre under any circumstances other than the Snap.”
Marian nailed him with her gaze. “You are the oldest, most Powerful Sorcerer of Lladrana. You can see my abode through your binoculars. Both Alexa and I have passed through the Dimensional Corridor, so we can visualize it. She understands my situation and will help me return. Among the three of us—and anyone you think might help—I should be able to go back.”
He looked pained. “You won’t change your mind?”
“No. My brother’s health is at stake. He is my greatest priority.”
Bossgond rose and paced to the black-shrouded binoculars and back. “I will do my best, but Lladrana needs you.”
Marian heard more than that from the melody linking them. I need you. Had he already become attached to her? That was so sweet. She must admit that she’d already developed an affection for him, as well as respecting him.
“Very well,” he said. “I will request the Friends of the Singer look through their Lorebooks and Oracle Archives for any information regarding your brother’s disease, as well as requesting all data from the Tower Community. Occasionally we have had Sorcerer or Sorceress Medicas. I will contact the Chief Medicas attached to the Castle, the Cities and the Seamasters. If there are instances of people who have or had your brother’s disease, I will learn of it, along with all treatments or cures.”
Unexpected tears stung her eyes. “Thank you.” But she was afraid to hope.
“We are blood-bonded, as are you and Alexa. Though it has never happened, perhaps you might be able to return to Amee.”
She didn’t think she’d ever abandon Andrew, even if he were in perfect health, but Bossgond seemed to expect something from her. “Perhaps. I was conducting my own Ritual at the time the Marshalls Summoned me. I might have adequate Power even in Exotique Terre to come back here.”
He nodded briskly. “The Marshalls’ Power and ritual coincided with yours. Your Power is raw and untaught. But by the time I finish instructing you, you could be our first Interdimensional Traveler.”
A gleam entered his eyes, and Marian got the sinking feeling that he had a new career goal for her.
Oddly enough, obtaining her doctorate and starting on an academic career—once her heart’s desire—now seemed flat. What teased her mind, plucked at her emotions, was the idea of becoming a Circlet Weather Sorceress and raising her own Tower. She knew exactly the place where she’d build it, too—in the green glen that called to her. She suppressed a sigh and refrained from shaking her head. She couldn’t figure out how she could get everything she wanted.
“It has been a long day for you,” Bossgond said. “I think you should retire and rest.”
His gaze slid to the binoculars again, and Marian sensed he wished to pursue his studies alone. Would he check on her apartment? He now had Andrew’s coordinates—would he watch Andrew? Could Bossgond possibly learn how to help Andrew by observing her brother?
“I am tired. Tuck and I will go to bed now.” On impulse, she kissed Bossgond’s wrinkled cheek. “I could ask for no better teacher.” She thought she saw a tinge of red under his golden skin.
“Perhaps you’d rather have Alexa as your mentor.”
Marian laughed. “I think she is an excellent Swordmarshall.” And would have made a hot-shot attorney. “But I don’t think she has the patience to be a good teacher.”
He smiled faintly as he took her arm and walked her to the door.
“Besides—” Marian stopped “—she is very busy—fighting. She said some Sorcerers and Sorceresses fight, too?”
“That was true of the last large battle, when Alexa requested help from the Tower Community.” He waved a hand. “Jaquar Dumont organized our contribution. At that time the fence posts were still falling and no one knew how to make new ones. The magical shield along the north boundary of Lladrana was failing. A large number of horrors had massed to invade.”
Marian’s imagination painted a vivid picture of the conditions.
Bossgond finished, “So some of the younger Sorcerers and Sorceresses used their Power in battle.”
Marian’s admiration for Alexa increased. She’d literally saved the country—how had she felt as Joan of Arc? Marian wanted to know the woman better.
Another wish that would not be fulfilled….Time was too short for everything Marian wanted to do, to learn, to explore.
“But during the battle, Exotique Alyeka discovered how to create the fence posts.” Bossgond looked grim. “Every Sorcerer and Sorceress of the Tower made twenty copies of the information as to how the fence posts are made, how the border shield is energized. We sent Lorebooks to every contact we had in the other Communities. The knowledge will never be lost again.”
“A very good thing,” Marian said quietly.
“Essential.” Bossgond opened the door and ushered her out with a small bow. He hesitated, then said, “Sleep well, and the hamster, too.”
Marian smiled. “We will. Sweet dreams.”
Bossgond looked a little startled, and Marian went down the stairs, smiling. It was good to surprise a teacher now and then—keep him on his toes.
The next morning, Marian awoke to a small squeaky voice calling, “Here’s Food! Here’s Food!” She blinked and struggled from sleep, and the words went on and on. Cocking her head, she realized the voice was close—coming from the table she’d brought into her bedroom.
Coming from Tuck’s aquarium.
A shiver feathered down her spine. Time to brace herself for more magic.
Slowly she walked over to the glass cage. Tuck rose and placed his little pink paws on the glass. He smiled.
He was not just a hamster anymore. She didn’t know what he was, but she knew he’d changed—become a companion to her.
“Hello, Tuck,” she said.
“Hel-lo, Here’s Food.” He beamed. “Hun-gry.”
11
Marian stared into the old aquarium. Tuck had just spoken to her in squeaks she could understand! She blinked. “My name’s Marian.”
“Here’s Food,” he said.
Glancing at the corner of the cage where he kept his food, she saw his hoard wasn’t as large as he preferred. She left the bedroom for the “kitchen” area of her circular loft and pulled out a small bowl of nuts and dried fruit that Bossgond had given her. Taking the handful, she went back to the aquarium.
“Here’s food,” she said, and stopped to listen to her own words. Tuck associated her with food, with those words. No wonder he called her that.
She shrugged an
d put the handful of food in his cage.
He hurried over and began arranging it, eating an especially tasty piece now and then. She stood and watched. A few moments later he was done. Then he paced the cage. She’d lined it with shredded paper. “No fun,” he said.
The hamster had vocal cords. She wondered if she would ever be able to study them. Then again, she didn’t know what human vocal cords looked like, and there were plenty of other topics that demanded her attention.
He squeaked, “Out!”
“If I let you roam, will you stay, or run off so I will never find you?”
He scrabbled against the glass. “I will stay in this place.”
“This room,” she said firmly. “No crawling down any pipes, wiggling into any holes in the floor or walls and not returning.” She shook a finger at him, even as she wondered if he could understand her. How he could understand her. Only one answer occurred.
Magic.
Tuck wrinkled his nose. “Bad house. Want new one.”
It might be interesting to make him a little house, without a cage. She’d feel better if he were off the floor, but he climbed well—a low table would be fine.
“Out! Out! Out!”
“All right!” She scooped him up and placed him on the floor. She’d really have to learn to mind her step. He had only roamed her apartment in his ball. “Do you want your ball?” Bossgond still had it.
Tuck ran under the wardrobe. Gleaming black eyes peered out at her. “No.”
Marian sighed. “All right, but be aware that I might not see you, so you have to be careful underfoot.”
“Yes. More food. Soft food.”
She smiled, figuring “soft food” meant a bit of cheese or egg or fresh vegetables. “I don’t have any here. I’ll check with Bossgond.” She headed for the speaking tube.
“Old man teacher,” Tuck said.
“Yes.”
“He smells funny.”
Marian stopped at the edge of the stained-glass partition and looked back into the bedroom. As she watched, Tuck appeared, crawling up the far side of her bedspread to explore her bed. He sat, Buddhalike, in the middle of her bed, paws clasped.
“Smells funny how?”
Tuck sniffed. “Mostly big sweet smell, then man smell, then old smell.”
“Ah.”
The hamster blinked at her and smiled. “You smell sweeter.”
To her amazement, Marian found herself dipping a curtsy, smiling herself. “Thank you, Tuck.”
“More food.”
She laughed. Cocking her head, she quieted her thoughts to sense Bossgond. His thoughts sparked, indicating he was awake.
She went to the tube and spoke into it. “Tuck and I are hungry.”
Bossgond grunted. “The oeuf is ready. You can share it with him.”
Marian grimaced at the thought of the tasteless omelette. “We’ll be right up.” She hurried to wash and dress, then picked Tuck up from her bed.
“Shoulder,” he said.
Looking at him askance, she said, “Are you sure? I don’t want you to fall.”
“I will not fall.”
Marian shrugged, then made a note not to do that when Tuck was riding her shoulder. She set him on her right shoulder and winced as his sharp little claws dug through the material.
As she ascended the stairs at a quick pace, Tuck kept steady, and she knew they were both pleased at this new way of transporting him.
When she entered Bossgond’s chamber, the first thing she noticed was his crystal ball flashing a rainbow of colors.
He followed her gaze, sniffed in disdain and snapped his fingers. “Requests to visit. Or demands. I do not want to see people, and I want you to concentrate on your training before satisfying others’ curiosity.”
“Alexa came yesterday.”
“That was different. I had not met her.”
His curiosity had needed to be satisfied, and not only regarding Alexa. Marian knew he’d wanted to meet Sinafin.
Bossgond studied Tuck on her shoulder. “Is that a safe way for the hamster to travel?”
“Yes,” Tuck squeaked.
The old mage froze, his eyes sharpening. “It speaks.”
“Me! You talk to me. And I am a he.”
Bossgond swallowed. “He knows grammar.”
Marian gave a nervous laugh herself. “I think it must be the atomball. He’s sentient.”
“What is sentient?” asked Tuck.
“You think,” Marian said.
Tuck grumbled. “Of course I think.”
She shared an amazed glance with Bossgond. He narrowed his eyes, and Marian lifted her left hand to curve it protectively over Tuck. “No dissecting!”
Bossgond looked affronted as if the idea hadn’t crossed his mind. “Of course not. The longer we have him to study—hmm—as your companion, the more we can learn of him, of the atomball. It must have been the atomball that made him intelligent—but how the atomball…” Bossgond shook his head. “I had a few notes on this atomball. The Marshalls made it as a Test of Exotique Alyeka’s Power. So twelve Marshall minds might have imprinted it—four of those people are now deceased. I believe both Alyeka and the feycoocu transformed the thing. Now it has been eaten by a hamster. Very interesting.” He looked distracted and headed for his desk, instead of the table where two cheese omelettes sat.
“Food!” cried Tuck.
Before Marian could stop him, he scrabbled down her dress, snagging his claws in the embroidery, which she watched reweave itself. He hopped to the floor and ran to the dining table, up the leg and onto the table to sit on a plate and shovel egg into his mouth.
Ick. Despite the fact that she knew the food wasn’t very good, Marian hurried over and cut a quarter of the omelette for Tuck, saving the rest for herself. She recalled where Bossgond kept the extra plates and the coffee. She poured a mug for herself and one for her teacher, giving him the coffee, omelette and a fork and napkin as he sat at his desk.
While he ate absently, she sighed and returned to her place, wondering how long it would take Alexa to find a cook for them.
After breakfast, Tuck explored Bossgond’s room and the old mage requested that she take the largest of her weather terrariums down to the lowest floor and work with it there. Marian did as he asked.
When she’d actually settled into the luxurious room, she found herself smiling at having such rich surroundings. Better than the best home office she’d ever seen. She allowed herself another cup of coffee, then began her lessons.
Bossgond had printed instructions for her. Just reading was a lesson in itself. Following his directions was even more fun. Today she practiced stirring the wind and waves in preparation for making clouds.
She’d mastered Wind—the scudding of the clouds around the enclosed environment, little breezes that ruffled the tiny tree forms and slapped up waves. She’d even managed a little hurricane in the ocean and a tornado on land.
Now she studied Water. When Bossgond wasn’t looking she’d tried a little Tide and flooded most of her seacoast. Then, of course, there was no way to hide her mistake.
He’d snorted with laughter, made her do her Wind exercises again, and commented that she’d better not try Lightning without him—she could take out the Tower. Abashed, Marian had agreed.
She was slightly distracted whenever Tuck skittered across her line of sight. Joy and affection welled in her at the thought of having him back—and as more than a pet. Whether he could be a real companion she didn’t know, but she enjoyed seeing him explore, and listened with half an ear to his squeaky comments. “Good smell, here!” “Nice hole.” “Stone too cold on paws here. Stay away.”
With incredible effort she visualized raising minute droplets of water from a river and bay—she discovered she didn’t have the energy to handle a whole ocean, she had to limit herself geographically. A good education, including basic science, had saved her from lectures by Bossgond on how water became clouds. He’d seemed impressed, but
had grumped off to his own desk.
Marian was muttering to herself, lowering the temperature so the droplets might coalesce, when she became aware of someone looking over her shoulder. More than one someone.
She lost control of her condensation and the water fell back into the sea. Turning, she scowled—and found herself looking at the other two who’d appeared in the pentacle when she’d been Summoned. Searching her memory as she nodded to them, she recalled their names. The woman was Venetria and the man Chalmon.
The way they stood together, it seemed they were intimate—but she knew each had wanted to claim her as an Apprentice. Relationships must get as tangled here in Lladrana as they had among scholars at the university.
“Salutations,” she said, now knowing why she was using the ground-floor parlor for her experiments. Bossgond had anticipated the advent of other Circlets. He wouldn’t have wanted to show them into either her or his working space.
They’d come to check out the new kid on the block, she supposed. Only natural, but it ate into her time. For an instant her gaze went to the door that was open on the pretty spring day, but no shadow of sexy Jaquar announced him. Just as well—she hadn’t forgotten that touch of warning.
“Salutations, Marian,” said Chalmon. He held out his hand, and Marian recalled that she hadn’t touched him. Jaquar—a cascade of notes; Venetria—a clash of chords; Bossgond—a streaming tune.
Carefully she put her hand in his. There was a tiny shock and a little hum between them, as if he could become a friend—but only a friend.
All three of them relaxed. Marian sensed Venetria had been prepared to be jealous, and Chalmon had been unsure of what he truly wanted from Marian, but now was willing to settle for what had naturally occurred.
Marian released his hand, gestured to the open door. “Shall we walk?”
Venetria cast a nervous glance at the stairs winding up the Tower wall. She licked her lips. “Will Bossgond mind?”
“I’ll tell him. We’re blood-bonded,” Marian said.
The other two exchanged glances, and irritation rose in Marian that she wasn’t conversant enough with the culture to understand nuances.
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