Marian subsided. “You’re probably right.”
“Anyway, people will be coming to meet you.” No sooner had Alexa said that than a loud knocking sounded at the garden door.
“Who’s there?” shouted Alexa.
“Luthan and Faucon,” called a man’s voice.
“Bringing gifts for the new Exotique,” said another voice, rich and cultured.
“A moment,” Alexa called, but she turned to Marian with a smile. “One really amazing thing about being an Exotique is people give you stuff to make you remember them, like them. And—” she raised a forefinger “—since Exotiques are inscrutable in their thoughts and actions, those gift-bearers don’t necessarily expect a return on their investment. The trick is not to be greedy.” She pulled a dark red stone out of her pocket and showed it to Marian.
Marian stared, open-mouthed. “That looks like the ruby in one of England’s royal crowns.”
“The Black Prince’s ruby. It’s really a spine.” Alexa flushed a little. “I like jewels.”
“Who doesn’t?” They shared a smile.
“I earned this. I’m sure you will soon have skills to trade.”
“We are still out here,” the first voice called.
“Just a minute,” Alexa shouted. “I need to tell Marian about you two.”
“That’s a few words for Luthan, but I would take much longer,” said the second voice, which Marian decided was Faucon.
Alexa bit her lip, shot a glance at Marian. “I don’t know if you’ve run across this before—”
“Across what?”
Shrugging, Alexa said, “Some of the Lladranans instinctively like or dislike us. I think it’s a visceral thing.”
Marian blinked. “No, I haven’t experienced that.”
Alexa nodded. “You’re about to meet two handsome, sexy and honorable Chevaliers. Luthan is Bastien’s brother and the Representative of the Singer to the Marshalls. Faucon is a high-ranking noble.”
“I take it one of them has this instinctive like-dislike reflex?”
“They both do. Try not to think badly of the one who has the revulsion. He’s embarrassed by it.”
“Revulsion? It’s that bad?”
Alexa wiggled her eyebrows. “And the opposite is the attraction.”
“Oh boy,” Marian said under her breath.
“Come on in!” Alexa called, before Marian had time to really think on all the ramifications of Alexa’s words.
The small door opened and two men ducked under the lintel and entered. They carried scrolls.
“Now there’s a pair,” Alexa whispered. She leaned closer to Marian.
The first man was dressed in immaculate white Chevalier fighting leathers that bore no stain or scar. Remembering the garb she’d seen in the inn the night before, Marian could only think that the clothes must have a spell on them, or he’d dressed up—to meet her? His hair was black with a wide streak of silver at his left temple and a smaller brush of silver at his right. His eyes were brown like most of the Lladranan men, but he was taller than average, and they were a tall race. His build was lean and muscular, his face was narrow, and something about him reminded Marian of Bastien—so this must be Luthan. His expression was somber.
The second man was only an inch shorter and his body type less lean and more athletically muscular—mesomorphic. He had medium-sized streaks of silver, denoting Power, at each temple framing a face as elegant as his voice had been, and strikingly handsome. He winked at them. Marian sat up straighter.
Luthan halted a few feet from them, took a breath. He looked braced for something, then a shudder moved through his entire body, but he remained expressionless. Alexa caught Marian’s hand and squeezed in silent support. Try not to hold it against him, she said with quiet sadness. Alexa had dealt with a brother-in-law who’d found her revolting.
Marian nodded.
The man came up and bowed formally, looked to Alexa.
Alexa sighed. “Luthan, Lord Vauxveau, Chevalier Fifth Rank, Representative of the Singer to the other Communities of Lladrana, please meet Marian Harasta, M.A., Exotique Scholar of the Fourth Degree.”
“I was instructed to introduce myself to you and assure you of the Singer’s support in all things.” He held out his hand.
Just then, Marian recalled that this was the man who had prophetic visions, like her friend Golden Raven back home. Marian wondered if his was strongest when touch-activated, like Golden Raven’s. Now it was her turn to brace herself. She put her fingers in his and he bowed gracefully over them.
The peacock screeched.
Luthan dropped Marian’s hand.
Both men turned.
Faucon bowed. “Salutations, feycoocu.”
Luthan inclined his head. “Salutations, feycoocu.”
Marian wondered if one or both of them knew Sinafin’s name.
A smile lifted one side of Luthan’s mouth as he set two books and three scrolls next to Marian. “Here are some Lorebooks from the Singer’s Abbey that she sent you. She also told me to inform you that Alexa, here, was the one who mended Bastien’s bad Power flow.”
Marian stared at Alexa, who pinkened and shifted.
“It was an accident. I did it—um—instinctively.”
Faucon jostled Luthan aside, bowed deeply and sent Marian a charming smile. “I see that Exotique Terre has supplied us with another gorgeous woman.” He took Marian’s hand and lifted it to his lips. “Your wish is my command.”
Had he really said that? Marian went over the line in her head, translated it into English, French, back into Lladranan. It scanned the same in all languages.
His fingers stroked her palm and a flicker of heat entered his gaze. Obviously this was the man who was immediately and innately attracted to Exotiques. Marian told herself not to be so pleased, it was nothing personal—but it felt very personal. “One of my ancestresses was an extraordinary Medica and Sorceress. I bring you copies of her studies.”
Withdrawing her hand, Marian smiled. “Thank you.”
His fingers dipped into a pocket of his breeches. When he withdrew it, he held a small, square bottle of dark-green stoppered with a tiny cork. “I have a small pool of jerir on one of my estates, and had this liquid harvested for you. My ancestress said this was the greatest amount of jerir a person should imbibe.”
“Huh.” Alexa eyed it. “Guess I didn’t swallow any more than that in my three dips or I wouldn’t be here.”
“A devastating thought,” Faucon assured her. He handed the bottle to Marian. “With my compliments. Would you like to join me for—”
Luthan dropped a hand on Faucon’s shoulder. “No, Faucon.”
Faucon stepped away from Luthan, scowling. “I will not listen to any specious lies from you this time, Luthan.”
Shrugging, Luthan said, “It was only a word of warning. I’ve been told there’s a very strong Song linking Scholar Marian and Circlet Jaquar Dumont. Of course, if you want to irritate the Circlet—”
Faucon’s jaw set. He glared at Luthan, turned his glance to Marian, shook his head and sighed. “My timing is off once more.” He bowed to Marian again. “Truly, Scholar Marian, should you need anything I can provide, send word.”
“Thank you,” Marian said, slipping the bottle into her pocket.
Sinafin shrieked and made to herd the men from the garden.
For the first time, Luthan smiled fully. “And farewell to you, also, feycoocu.” He bowed to Alexa and Marian and left. Faucon gave a small salute to Alexa, another melting smile to Marian, and followed Luthan from the garden.
There was a short silence after the door closed behind the men, then Marian said, “Lladrana certainly grows handsome men.”
Alexa chuckled. “Yes, indeed, and my Bastien is the best of the lot.”
Marian shrugged. “Tell me about curing Bastien.”
Shifting again, Alexa said, “Well, uh, it happened during sex.”
“Oh.” Marian was eager to know, but co
uldn’t find the right words to pursue the topic gracefully.
“To be precise,” Alexa said, looking away, “I noticed that Bastien’s crystal star had a flaw during sex, and afterward, I removed it.”
“What crystal star?”
Alexa looked surprised. “When we make love, we both project multi-pointed stars that touch and meld together.”
“Oh.”
“That doesn’t happen with you and Jaquar?”
“No, I, uh, don’t get visuals. Mostly I just get swept away by this spectacular wave of music.”
They met each other’s gazes, began to laugh.
“Oh,” Alexa said.
They laughed some more.
Alexa tapped her fingers on her baton sheath. “That’s interesting. You might be better suited to Lladrana and Amee than I, since you seem to have a more aural than visual sense. I’m gonna have an accent for the rest of my life.”
Marian touched her fingers to the books beside her, sending her mind and intuition questing, hoping to receive an indication that help for Andrew lay within one of the tomes. Nothing.
“Perhaps when you get back to Earth, you’ll still have Power, at least enough to cure your brother,” Alexa said reassuringly.
“I hope so,” Marian murmured.
“It will be interesting to know whether and how much Power works on Earth.”
They shared another smile. “Yes,” Marian said.
A cautious tapping came on the door. It creaked open and a young man poked his head inside.
“Oh, you’re here,” he said.
Alexa shrugged. “Come on in, Urvey.”
Steps dragging, the youngster did. Marian thought he was about the same age as Marwey—late teens. He was dressed in fighting leathers and a midnight-blue tunic that after a few instants, Marian placed as Bastien’s livery. Bastien’s servant, then. He darted a glance around the garden as if it were a strange and threatening landscape.
“This place sounds funny,” he said.
“It’s mostly our Exotique Songs,” Alexa said. She tilted her head as if listening, touched Marian on the forearm. “Though since Marian is still connected with Earth—Exotique Terre—I can hear echoes of my mother planet, too.”
Alexa looked a little wistful, but nothing in Alexa resonated with a wish to return to Colorado. She was certain of her course. Marian envied that.
Urvey appeared unconvinced. He fingered the piece of paper he held.
“You have a message?” asked Alexa, putting out her hand.
Shifting his feet, he stared at Marian. “It’s for her. And the Circlet,” he whispered.
“Oh,” Alexa said. “Marian, this is my husband Bastien’s squire, Urvey Novins. Urvey, this is Exotique Scholar Marian Harasta.”
He was not like any squire Marian had envisioned.
Urvey bowed. “My pleasure,” he said.
“Salutations.” Marian nodded, then held out her hand.
Urvey dropped the note in it. The paper was slightly damp. Marian unrolled the paper and read the letters easily—a benefit of her bond with Jaquar.
Guildsman and Townmaster Sevair Masif requests the presence of Exotique Scholar Marian and Circlet Jaquar Dumont to discuss the matter of Weather Magic and frinks. Please come as soon as possible.
Though the note was courteous enough, Marian felt searing anger.
23
Blinking several times Marian handed the message to Alexa. “Frinks are worms that fall with the rain? I’ve never seen them,” Marian said to Alexa.
“I have, but only once.” Alexa looked up with a frown. “I think I’ll go with you. I don’t know what Jaquar’s relations are with Sevair, but the underlying tone of this note concerns me, and I won’t let him push you around. He’s a nice guy, really, so I don’t know what’s wrong.”
She was throbbing with curiosity.
“The Guildmaster’s journeyman is waiting in the cloister walk outside the Keep,” said Urvey.
“Can you call Jaquar mentally, please?” Alexa asked Marian.
“You don’t think we should refuse?”
Drumming her fingers along her baton sheath, Alexa shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. The various communities of this society are distant enough. I’m sure one of our jobs is bringing them together to fight the Dark. Let’s not alienate a good man.”
“All right,” Marian said, and stood.
Alexa rose, too. With obvious relief, Urvey ran to the door and held it open for them.
Jaquar! Marian called, holding an image of him in her mind.
Alexa took Marian’s forearm, smiling. “Just tell him that you got an invitation to visit Sevair Masif. From what I know of men, he’ll insist on accompanying you. Then we can hand him the note on the way down.”
“All right,” Marian said. I am going to Castleton to meet with—She had used visual symbols for herself and the city, but had no symbol for Sevair. Taking the note back from Alexa, she scanned it for any sort of icon, noticed a stone block and a hammer.
Marian? Jaquar asked. His voice was filled with affection, making her smile. He sounded as if he were in the Keep somewhere.
I am going to Castleton to meet with Sevair Masif. She sent the mental image of the stone block and hammer.
What?
For a third time, Marian began forming the pictures she needed to communicate mentally with him. I am going to—
You’re going to the cloister walk outside the Keep, he said, obviously more accustomed than she was to sorting images from their mingled Songs and occasionally touching minds.
I’ll meet you there, he finished.
“It worked.” Alexa grinned.
“I guess so,” Marian said.
Since they had to go through the maze, Jaquar was already in the walkway, leaning against a post with his arms crossed, when they met him. Another youngster about Urvey’s age, dressed in dark gray livery, stood in simmering silence.
Addressing the young man, Alexa said, “Marian, may I introduce you to Jumme, Townmaster Masif’s journeyman.”
Marian hesitated, then dipped a curtsey.
The youth responded by whipping off his hat and making a flourishing bow such as Marian had never seen outside of the movies.
“My pleasure.” His voice vibrated with sincerity, and a little more.
“Do you know—” Alexa started, gesturing to Jaquar.
“He introduced himself,” Jaquar said coolly, pushing away from the pillar to take Marian’s hand and tuck it under his arm. He scanned her face. “You look a little different.”
She smiled. She wasn’t ready to tell him she’d mastered Water. She wanted to be able to practice outside in the ocean and be perfect when he next tested her.
“Do you want to ride?” Jaquar asked. “It’s only a couple of miles, but riding—”
“No, thank you. Let’s walk. It’s a beautiful day.”
So they walked, two and two—Alexa and Jumme, and Marian and Jaquar—back down to Castleton.
Sevair Masif’s gray stone house sat across from a pretty green square. Both the outside and the warmly paneled interior were distinctive and obviously quality work. The earth-tone furnishings of the den Marian, Jaquar and Alexa were issued into were of excellent material and well-tended.
Jaquar led Marian to a small beige couch that would hold two, and Alexa took a chair of deep gray.
Sevair stood stiffly behind the desk. In a work shirt, his arms and shoulders appeared well-honed by his occupation. He was as tall as Faucon had been, and like Luthan, he had a streak of silver hair on the left side of his forehead.
His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed. He leaned forward on long, scarred hands, piercing Jaquar with his stare.
“Weather Sorcerer Circlet Dumont, were you ever going to answer our requests for help?” he asked icily.
Jaquar stood and straightened to his full height—a couple of inches taller than Masif, but not as heavily muscled. He still managed to look do
wn his nose. “I received no request for help.”
Masif’s gaze snapped with angry fire. His jaw flexed, then he said, even more coldly, “Every few months for the past two years, we sent a message to you asking for help.”
Jaquar’s manner changed subtly, from challenging to listening. He shook his head. “Townmaster Masif, I received no message. How did you send it?”
“Through the Marshalls, to be forwarded to you—” He stopped, glanced at Alexa who was no longer lounging in her chair but sitting up straight.
Making a disgusted sound, Masif moved to a chair—not the one behind his desk, which would give him a better placement for authority, but one near the fireplace. “The Marshalls. They didn’t forward our messages. They never responded to our questions themselves, and now I learn that they actively worked against my Townspeople.” His fingers fisted, released. “The Marshalls let my people worry, turn into mockers, and betrayed us.”
“One moment!” Alexa raised a hand, her brow knit, and Marian could hear the faint echoes of Alexa’s conversation with the other Marshalls. After a minute, Alexa said to Masif, “The Marshalls made the decision not to tell you that they didn’t know how to combat the frinks. However, neither Thealia nor any of the older Marshalls received any messages from any Townmaster to pass along to the Tower Community or Circlet Jaquar, the Weather Sorcerer.”
“Reynardus.” Masif’s mouth thinned.
“Not necessarily,” Alexa said. “When was your last message?”
“A few weeks ago…”
“After I’d joined the Marshalls?”
“Yes.”
There was silence. Finally, Masif stood and bowed to Jaquar. “My apologies. It looks as if the problem regarding a traitor is mine. And forgive me my inhospitality. Would you like tea?” he asked Marian.
“No, thank you.”
Jaquar offered his hand to Masif. “I am sorry.”
Masif clasped Jaquar’s hand and the men’s energy merged, flared, their Songs ringing in the harmony of like minds. Both looked a bit stunned. Masif dropped his hand and took a step back. Jaquar came and sat beside Marian, setting his arm along the back of the sofa behind her.
“I am also sorry to tell you that I can do nothing about the frinks,” Jaquar said. He huffed out a frustrated breath. “I’ve tried, the Song knows how often I’ve tried, but I can’t sense the frinks in the clouds. Not all rain clouds carry them, and there is no pattern as to which do and which don’t.”
Sorceress of Faith Page 27
