She checked herself in the mirror. Her mouth fell open and she snapped it shut.
She looked better than all right. In the dim light she seemed to glow. Her hair was sexily tousled; her makeup appeared to have interacted with her skin to emphasize her eyes, cheeks, mouth. She stared, and felt a slight tingle as if she wore a shimmering coat of conditioner. An old word occurred to her, magic. Glamour.
Realizing she was wasting time—time her mother was counting in seconds—she left.
With the knowledge that she’d never looked better, and slightly hysterical, bubbling amusement at the effect of Power on her skin, Marian hurried down the old wooden staircase at the back of the building and into the ballroom.
She stopped at the bottom of the staircase to look around. The people and the party furnishings looked so strange after her sojourn in Lladrana. Nerving herself, she spotted her mother and crossed to her. She hadn’t seen Candace in nine months, and she looked thin, pale and expensively elegant. She was speaking to two men with false affection. Her husband, John, smiled vacuously as he sipped champagne.
Candace’s eyes widened, and for one instant Marian heard the faulty tune between her and her mother.
“Marian, how good of you to finally come,” Candace said coolly. Her expression had hardened.
Marian felt as awkward and gawky as when she was twelve and had a growth spurt that sent her towering inches over Candace.
“Good evening, Candace,” she said.
The men were introduced and bowed over her hand. Their auras had altered slightly—they were attracted to her, Marian realized. John stared at her.
Candace watched with sharpened gaze. The mother-daughter Song brayed with brass. With it came a word from Candace’s mind. Competition.
Marian nearly gaped at her mother, but murmured something appropriate to the men and offered them a weak smile.
“Please excuse me, gentlemen, I must speak with my daughter alone.” Candace smiled, too, then gripped Marian’s arm in a clawed-handed squeeze and moved her away from the men.
Still stunned by the rapid shifts in her life, Marian didn’t hear Candace’s first few words.
“—at my wit’s end to keep Trenton’s new wife amused. Her name is Juliet. Go over there and keep her happy so I can work on Trenton for a plump donation.” With a tilt of her head, Candace indicated a woman dressed in black knit tunic and trousers with a long, silver, fringed and beaded evening shawl draped around her. She moved a little and Marian saw the Chinese pattern for longevity woven in metallic thread on the back of the robe.
And she heard the woman’s tune. Earthy, amused, strong. Clashing with Candace’s own life Song. She listened to her mother’s Song, which fluctuated between strident and whispered sharp notes…fading.
Shock rippled through Marian as she realized her mother was seriously ill, perhaps dying. She opened her mouth.
Candace discreetly poked Marian in her back. “Go do your duty.”
Only a rusty, “Yes, Mother” escaped Marian. Operating solely on instinct, she walked up to Trenton’s bride.
The woman took a glass of wine from a server who arrived at the same time as Marian. Needing something to settle her, Marian took a glass, too. It tipped, liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim.
Juliet reached out to steady Marian’s wrist. “Easy,” she said, then, “Thank you,” to the server who moved off with his tray.
A tinkle of connection sounded between them. Juliet gasped, dropped her hand. Her eyes widened, and Marian gained the impression that she hadn’t heard the sparkling notes but had seen a shift in their mingled auras.
Then she smiled, quite genuinely. “How kind of Candace to provide someone interesting for me to speak with.”
Marian choked on her drink. She spilled a few droplets on her bosom, watched them soak into her dress and disappear. It didn’t look as if the material would stain. Good.
She racked her brain to recall the meager information her mother had given her about this woman weeks ago. “You, um, own The Queen of Cups store?”
“Yes.”
“It’s the best New Age establishment in Denver,” Marian said, glad it was the truth. She wasn’t acclimatizing as quickly as she had thought she would to being back home on Earth.
“Thank you.” Juliet smiled. “What do you like the best?”
“Your books. Excellent selection.”
Juliet looked askance. Did Marian have an accent? Did Juliet think Marian was as superficial as Candace? “And, um, your herbs. I bought a nice marble mortar and pestle the last time I was in.”
Juliet relaxed. “We have a good stock of tools. We recently received a new shipment of pendulums.”
Frowning, Marian said, “Pendulums can be quite attractive, but I’ve never used one.” She didn’t think she’d seen any in Lladrana, either. Did they use them?
With a tilt of her head, Juliet said, “Is something disturbing you? You seem…distracted.”
Disconnected was a better word. Linked to Mother Earth, but that Song was subdued here in the city. It had faded to a hum that spoke more to her blood than her mind. Otherwise Marian was disconnected to everything around her, everything she’d been linked to a few hours ago.
Except Candace, and the Song between them was so pitiful it was depressing. Marian shook her head, hoping to jar a little sense back into it.
“Sorry, I’m just back from an…intense retreat. French.” She smiled. “I’m a little tired and coping with language echoes.”
Juliet narrowed her eyes. “Maybe you should have some food.” Then, with a sweep of her arm, she called to a waiter who was circulating with small steak kebabs.
“Thank you,” Marian said as she took three. She munched one quickly and then she and Juliet drifted over to a waste basket and dropped two of the bamboo skewers into it.
Juliet slipped the wineglass from Marian’s hand and set it on a nearby table. “And I think you should have less to drink.”
“Very wise,” Marian said, then finished off the second kabob. She was ravenous, could eat ten of the appetizers. Was this a reaction to her using magic here, or to the Dimensional Corridor, or to landing on Earth again, or what?
“Marian,” Juliet said softly, as Marian discarded the third empty stick.
Heat flooded her. “I’m sorry, as you said, I’m distracted, and here I came just to meet you. Please, forgive.”
Juliet looked intrigued. “Just to meet me?”
Marian nodded. “Yes, my best teacher, Golden Raven, just left for the coast. I thought I’d talk to you about the Denver community and see if you could recommend someone comparable.”
“Ah. Yes, I’d heard Wood Elk and Golden Raven were heading west.” Juliet’s brow furrowed. “You want another teacher?”
Actually, that was the last thing she wanted. Thinking on it, she had a surfeit of teachers lately, but Marian nodded anyway.
“Hmm.” Juliet tapped her finger against her lips. “Do you get our newsletter?”
“The print one, but I think I’d pay attention to an online one more.” That made Marian think about her PDA. She’d been careful not to touch it when she returned to her apartment. The intricacies of time-travel paradox had stumped smarter people than she. Marian caught herself rubbing her temples. “Sorry.”
“Let’s sit down.” Juliet led her to a small sitting area against the wall. She took Marian’s hands.
Their Songs flowed together in counterpoint. Juliet’s eyes widened again.
“Your energy is fluctuating too extremely,” she said.
Marian tried to withdraw her hands, but Juliet held tight.
“Breathe with me.”
Of course! Why hadn’t Marian thought of that? Too fuzzy brained. She let her eyelids drift closed. For several moments the women breathed together. At first Marian was aware of all the people and muted Songs around her, then she focused in on Candace’s Song and felt her mother’s disgust at her and Juliet. Marian sent love down t
he bond to Candace, but it seemed to dissipate against the shield of Candace’s heart. In turn, Marian searched for emotions from Candace—pride in her daughter, respect, affection, love, anything—and only sensed a distant acknowledgment of blood, nothing more.
Finally she blocked her aching heart and emptied her mind, and found serenity, solidity. She withdrew her hands and opened her eyes to Juliet’s considering gaze.
“I’ve been doing too much,” Marian said.
“Of course.” Juliet pursed her lips, tapped them with a finger again. “They are getting ready for the silent auction. I’d like to slip out a moment. I have something for you.”
Probably a grounding crystal or an herbal drink. Marian raised her eyebrows. She should be wary. “Yes?”
Juliet nodded decisively. “Can you come with me out to my car a moment? I have it there. I knew it belonged to someone, but not who or when I’d meet the person—so I’ve been carrying it around.”
A low hum seemed to rattle her bones—another feeling of premonition. Marian took another few discreet, deep breaths. “Yes.”
“Great. Follow me.” Whirling so her silver fringe caught the light and gleamed, Juliet headed quickly through the room to the exit.
They were intercepted by her husband, Trenton Philbert III, who was Marian’s height and towered over Juliet. He set himself firmly in their path and raised a brow. “Going somewhere, Juliet? I believe we discussed this earlier.”
Juliet rolled her eyes. “I’ve found the person the book is for.”
Trenton shifted his gaze to Marian. His eyes cooled. “Ms. Harasta.”
Juliet tsked and patted Trenton’s arm, bringing his attention back to her. He smiled, harsh features softening. “Trey, you are making judgments again.”
“An occupational hazard,” the man said.
A lightning bolt of recollection hit Marian. “You’re a judge, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” His tone was clipped.
Marian frowned. “Do you know Alexa Fitzwalter?”
His stare pinned her. “She disappeared about three months ago. What do you know of that?” His voice was harsh.
Too many conflicting emotions and ideas clashed in Marian’s head. This return to Earth was as bad as her first hours in Lladrana. She put fingertips to her temples, trying to find words.
“Let me remember. Friends told me that Alexa was unexpectedly called away to handle a…delicate situation.” That was true enough. Marian shrugged casually. “I didn’t speak to her before she left and haven’t since.” Not on Earth. She kept that thought foremost in her mind when she met Trenton’s eyes. “I was wondering if you’ve heard whether she’s returned?” Maybe she could find a way to tidy up Alexa’s affairs—take care of back rent, close her law practice.
“Her car was found abandoned near Berthoud Pass.”
Shit.
Frowning, Marian said, “I don’t know how to reach her. I never had her cell number.” Again truth.
The man continued to weigh Marian’s words. A portion of his Song pulsed from him—powerful, honorable, concerned and with a touch of personal Power—truth-sensing.
“Her office and apartment have been closed,” he said abruptly.
Marian shook her head. “Then I guess I can’t help.”
“Where did you meet Alexa?” asked Trenton.
“We’re gathering attention, and the silent auction is about to begin,” Juliet interjected. She pushed at her husband’s shoulder. “Go buy something outrageously expensive for me to support the charities and show everyone how much you love me.”
He threw back his head and laughed. Even more gazes swung in their direction.
Juliet lifted her snub nose. “I have business with Marian. She needs the book.”
Book? Trembling started within Marian. A book held infinite possibilities.
In an unexpectedly elegant gesture, Trenton took his wife’s hands, kissed each of them. Then he looked at Marian again. “I’ll get back to you later—”
“No, you won’t,” Juliet said firmly. “You will leave her alone. I know you don’t like unanswered questions, but I believe that’s the best in this case.”
Trenton looked pained, shot them a glance from under lowered brows, then strode back to the plush seats that had been arranged in rows.
As the auctioneer called the group to attention, Marian and Juliet slipped from the hall into the cool spring night. Tears stung the back of Marian’s throat. She was home on Earth, in Denver, where she’d been raised.
Even the city air tasted good on her tongue. The lights were too bright to see many stars, but she stopped to look up and find Orion. The scent of blossoming trees wafted to her, even more familiar and comforting than the brithenwood. How could she give all this up? Her old, steady life. Her simple dreams. Her home.
A car door clunked closed and Marian realized that Juliet had left her to collect the book.
Marian looked around—the bright lights from Colfax Avenue, a couple of streets down, the huge trees leafing out, the interesting architecture of the hall…. She’d find none of this on Lladrana.
Could she return?
33
Juliet’s silver shawl flapped in the breeze as she hurried to Marian and thrust a blue book into her hands. It was small but heavy, and bound in leather.
“Thank you,” Marian said. “What do I owe you for it?”
“Free, on the house.” Juliet started back toward the hall and Marian kept pace. “Will you be disappearing, too?” Juliet turned her head and smiled.
“Maybe.” All this indecision wasn’t like her. But the choice was huge and final. “I will definitely be leaving Boulder for California for a little while. Then I may disappear, and my brother, too.”
“Then why did you ask me about a teacher?”
“In case I stay. I’m not sure what I’m doing and doubts creep in. And there’s my mother—”
Juliet patted her shoulder. “You’ll make the right decision.”
They stepped into the hall and, instead of going to the ballroom where bidding was active, Marian crossed the lobby to a red leather couch and sat back against the squabs. Juliet sat beside her.
Looking down at the book, Marian received another shock. It was written in archaic Lladranan. She shivered and her fingers clutched the little blue leather book. She knew enough of the old language to read “Use…Knot…Unbinding.”
Fate.
The intricate red-silk weapon-knot rested on her bedside table. In Swordmarshall Thealia Germaine’s Tower in the Keep of the Marshalls’ Castle. In Lladrana. On the world of Amee.
Her hands shook and dropped the book onto her lap.
“I knew you were the right person for the book,” Juliet said. “You can read the language, can’t you?”
“Yes,” Marian whispered.
The door to the lobby swung open and Trenton stalked through. “I’ve done my part for the charities, now let’s go home.” He scowled at Juliet. “You’re my bride. You were supposed to stay with me. You weren’t supposed to abandon me, especially not for obviously better company than the folks in that room and more interesting conversation.”
Juliet rose and crossed to him, smiling serenely. She patted his cheek, stood on tiptoe and brushed a kiss on his lips. “I’ll do better next time you drag me to one of these, darling. Did you buy me something wonderful?”
“Yes. It will be delivered tomorrow.” His gaze fastened on Marian. “I think I want to speak with Marian Harasta. I’ve been trying to figure out where her path might have crossed with Alexa Fitzwalter’s.”
Juliet linked her fingers with Trenton’s, tugged. He didn’t move.
Marian smiled slightly. “Colorado Shakespeare Festival in Boulder?” After all, Alexa had quoted Macbeth correctly, she must like the Bard.
Trenton’s eyes narrowed.
Pulling at his hand, Juliet said, “I think you want to go home for some fun.”
He jerked his stare from Marian to sett
le it on Juliet, and grinned. “You believe you can distract me with fabulous and inventive sex?”
“Oh yes.” She raised their joined hands and kissed his knuckles and walked away.
He followed, chuckling. “You are so right.”
Marian was left aching for Jaquar and the tender affection they’d known far too briefly. And wondering what she could, what she would do…
She waited until everyone had left the fund-raiser, until her mother had overseen the departure of the catering staff and the efforts of the cleaning crew. Nothing but perfection for Candace.
When Candace sent her husband for the car, Marian joined her in the middle of the elegant, empty ballroom.
Candace sent her a brilliant smile, all teeth. “It was good of you to finally show up, Marian.”
Ignoring the emotional slap, Marian pressed on. “Mother, have you seen a doctor?”
“Why do you say that?” Her eyes sharpened.
“You look a little…tired.”
Candace waved the comment away. “The ball was quite challenging this year, but I outdid myself.” Her expression turned smug. “I doubled donations this year.”
Marian cleared her throat, tried again. “Now that the event is a success, you might want to slow down a little.”
Straightening her bony shoulders, Candace said, “Nonsense, you know nothing about my life.”
“I suppose not, but I think you should see a doctor.”
Candace’s lip curled. “Quacks, the lot of them. They haven’t got a clue.”
Marian’s heart thudded. “You’ve been to see some! What did they say?”
“A lot of balderdash.” She took off on a final inspection of the room. “I’m not listening to them.”
She hardly ever listened to anyone. Marian caught up with her and grabbed her arm. It was nothing but skin and bone under her fingers. Her fear spiraled higher. “Mother!”
“How many times must I tell you to call me Candace! You don’t listen. You don’t remember.”
Sorceress of Faith Page 37
