She didn’t want to hurt him with the bond, would try to keep it light and easy at first and watch Andrew for any discomfort.
Walking over to him, she stretched and then curled her fingers, limbering them.
“What are you doing?”
Warmth crept up her cheeks. “I, uh—when I was away, I learned this technique for…connecting with people on an…emotional level.”
He just stared at her, then he laughed, and it was so good to hear and see him this way that she drank in the sight and smiled herself.
After his last chuckle, he said, “All those New Age classes of yours—and where did you go, Tibet?”
“Not exactly.”
He stretched out his hands. “Okay, lay it on me.”
Instead of clasping hands, she bent and hugged him. A Song rose between them. Since Andrew stiffened, she sensed he heard it, too—the Song of the children of Candace. Closing her eyes, she felt tears well behind her lids. She was so glad to hold him. Without thought or will, her experiences on Lladrana flickered through their bond—fast and sketchy, but undeniably real.
His arms tightened around her. Then he shivered and withdrew. His face had paled, but his eyes blazed with wonder and excitement. “I can’t believe it.” Then he lifted a hand. “No, I do believe it, but it’s fantastic all the same. Magic works and you have an affinity for fire.”
He glanced over to the fireplace. “Care to light it?”
She sent him a withering glance. “It’s gas.”
“So?”
“So you have to turn the gas on. That’s moving a lever, not lighting logs.”
“Huh. Could you use some air to press down the switch?”
“Maybe I should draw down lightning on your thick skull.”
He snorted. “Don’t think you could do it.” A wistful expression crossed his face. “I thought I got something about a hole in the skull and that special liquid—jerir?”
Marian licked her lips. “Yes.”
“Didja bring the stuff with you and can I see it?”
“Yes.” Marian went to the guest bedroom and returned with the bottle of jerir, which she handed to Andrew.
He took the solid proof of her trip to Lladrana in his hands, tilted the container back and forth, studied it under the light. The sparkles were harder to see under a lightbulb, but Marian spotted a couple.
“Real magic.” He set the bottle on the table with his medicines. “You want to return, don’t you?”
She met his eyes, let her fear show in her own. “I’m torn. It’s a dangerous situation and it doesn’t look like it’s going to get any better soon.” Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. “I’d have great Power and with great Power comes great responsibility.”
“I’m glad that you feel that way.”
A smile played on her lips, then faded. “I have to feel that way—otherwise I might succumb to pure greed or hubris or something.”
But Andrew was shaking his head. “I don’t think so. You’ve seen too much of what can happen with great riches and status in Denver society.”
“Many of those people are caring, service-oriented individuals.”
“But not Candace. What of Candace? You came back for me, and I thank you for that and am considering my new options. But I can’t see you telling Candace about Lladrana, or convincing her to go there. Not her kind of place at all. You’ve always wanted a good relationship with Mother.”
Marian braced herself. “I saw Candace Friday night. She’s…dying.” She swallowed hard. “I think she knows it. Cancer, probably. She won’t do anything about it. Doesn’t accept the prognosis. I got this through our bond—before she cut it.”
Andrew swore, looked away. A moment later, he said, “It’s hard, isn’t it, knowing there’s not a thing we can say that will make her take care of herself? I tried, now and then.” His eyes turned sad. “I would have said that I didn’t care. I do, of course. She is our mother.”
“I don’t think she has long—less than a year, perhaps.”
Closing his eyes, Andrew sighed. “This is difficult for you.” He shifted in his seat. “Maybe it’s best that we do leave now. She wouldn’t want us to be there at the end.”
“You’re sure of that? We couldn’t give her comfort?”
“When did we ever give her comfort?”
“What if she changes her mind, her ways, wants us at the end?”
He opened his eyes, stared back at Marian. “Do you really believe you should forgo life on Lladrana because of a remote possibility that our mother will change her ways on her deathbed? If so, then I think you really don’t want to return to Lladrana and the challenges there, but just prefer your steady, tidy life here.”
Shock rippled through her at his harsh words. She staggered back to sit in the opposite recliner and frown at him.
His smile was humorless. “You wanted me here, needed me here to help you think about this radical change in lifestyle. Well, that’s what I’m doing.”
Marian rubbed her temples. “Not pulling any punches, are you.”
“Since you’ll be walking into circumstances that might get you killed, you’d better really be committed to that course.”
She nodded, looked away, put his words in the back of her mind to simmer. She’d consider them later. Taking an unsteady breath, she put a hand on her churning stomach. “You’re talking like you’ll come with me.”
Nodding, Andrew said, “I’ll give it good consideration. I know there’s some time constraints. When would we leave?”
Marian dipped her hand in her pocket and withdrew the paper Bossgond had given her. Andrew examined it, turning it over and looking at both sides. He rubbed his thumb over it, scratched with his nail, even lifted it up and sniffed. Again he half smiled.
“Doesn’t smell like Earth, but it does smell a little like you.”
She hadn’t quite accepted that she had a scent others noticed. “Huh.”
Andrew chuckled, then glanced at the paper and read the English words at the bottom of the timeline. “I guess this big blue circle is when the return Summoning will be done?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “All right, about ten days.” Carefully setting the paper aside on the table, he said, “That’s enough heavy talk for now. Let’s eat, watch some tube and get to sleep.”
That evening, Marian lay in bed and waited—tonight had been the night in Lladrana when she and Jaquar had danced, when the first level of their connection had developed. She let the soft reflection of what was now occurring on Lladrana filter through her. Afterward, she felt a small but definite bond between her and Jaquar again—Jaquar-of-the-past and herself. She sat straight up in bed. Did Past-Jaquar now feel the bond with Earth-Marian as well as Lladrana-Marian? She thought he must, so the “Marian effect” upon him would be more than his effect on Lladrana-Marian or Earth-Marian. Not quite a double whammy, but still, it was something to consider when she thought of him—which was often.
Being on Earth gave her time and distance to reflect on her affair with Jaquar. She missed him, missed the companionship above all, and, of course, the sex. And she welcomed the renewed connection; this seemed to reverberate from the future, too, for just prior to the Snap, she’d linked with him again. A link through time. The thought made her shiver.
What would happen to that bond if Andrew decided against Lladrana?
She woke late, and by the time she dressed, Andrew was moving around the kitchen with only one cane and looking rested.
“Want me to make omelettes?” she asked.
He grinned and settled into a chair at the table. “Sure.”
She got the ingredients together and began preparing.
A few minutes passed in silence. “I’ve decided,” he said quietly.
Marian tensed as she folded the egg mixture over in the frying pan, then glanced at him.
“Yes?” Her voice was equally soft.
“I want to go with you.”
&nb
sp; She slid his omelette onto a plate and placed it before him, then went to work on hers, she was focused more on Andrew. “Why?”
He shrugged. “I think it’s evident that my time and future here is limited.” Then he gave a lopsided smile that tore her heart. “I’ll take my chances on Lladrana.”
She could barely breathe. “Really?” It came out in a high-pitched squeak that would have done Tuck proud.
Andrew picked up his fork and took a tiny bite. “I don’t have much appetite.” He continued to eat mechanically.
But when she finished making her own omelette and sat across from him, his gaze was as intense as a laser.
“Some people are born to do certain things. You are born to be the Exotique Circlet Sorceress of Lladrana.” His face hardened. “I don’t ever want you walking away from that destiny. Promise me.”
It wasn’t often he demanded things of her.
She put down her fork, couldn’t eat.
“Promise me, now. Nothing will stop you from returning.”
She choked. He meant his sickness, his death.
“I—”
“I want this for you, Marian. All your life you’ve been looking for something, searching for that one skill that was completely natural for the genius inside you. You had it and knew it subconsciously.” He waved a hand. “Most sensitive people could tell that. Now you’ve found it. I will not let you squander your talent. Promise me now.”
“I promise.” The words were barely a breath, but he heard them and nodded.
“Good.” He closed his eyes again, a smile hovered on his mouth. “Always searching, all those classes…” He sighed.
Marian stared down at her omelette, too excited to eat. What had she done? She’d promised to go back to Lladrana and battle the Dark.
She might have been born to this work, but unlike her first week on Lladrana, the months to come wouldn’t be fun and games and learning. Her future—their future, hopefully—could be brutal and short.
“Eat,” Andrew said, “and I’ll tell you how this will work.”
Marian smiled, was able to pick up her fork again and eat. The omelette should have been tasty, but it was much like the ones she’d eaten with Bossgond. Still, like Andrew, she ate automatically, for fuel.
Andrew said, “I’ll get ready to travel. I think we should leave from your apartment again.” He looked around. “This house should sell pretty quickly, especially if I keep the price reasonable. I’ll pull out money from my account and convert it to—what do the Lladranans use as currency?” He grinned. “No use going there a pauper if I can help it.”
“You’re sure you want to do this?”
“Of course.” He chuckled. “I’m the risk-taker, remember? You’re the cautious one, trying to get things perfect before you make a move.”
“I’m doing better at that,” she mumbled.
He tilted his head. “I think you are. Those Lladranans taught you more than magic, didn’t they?”
She managed a smile. “I had a lot of challenging experiences.”
“You’ll have to tell me the whole story, from beginning to end—or at least the middle. We haven’t reached the end yet.”
“You’ll really return with me.” She searched his face and found his eyes steady.
“You’re the one with the destiny. I’m the one with no future…here. We’re family. Where you go, I go.”
Tears rolled down her face. She reached for the paper towel she had used for a napkin and wiped her eyes, blew her nose.
He began eating again. “And you’ll have to tell me about the man, too.”
Her chest tightened. “The man.”
“I felt him. But that can wait, it’s all about me first. I’m not going over poor, and there is definitely other stuff I want to take with me. What do they use as currency, gold?” He winked.
“Uh, I don’t know. I dealt mostly in trade.” She frowned, trying to remember Alexa’s experiences. “Jewels, Alexa had a ruby—no, a red spine.”
“Even better.” Andrew rose and took his plate to the sink, washed it and his fork, frowning. “I didn’t get that stuff about Alexa. Who is she?”
Marian finished the last bit of omelette, then walked up and gently jostled Andrew away from the sink so she could wash and put away her own dishes. She looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye. “Alexa was the first Exotique.”
His goggle-eyed look was satisfying.
35
The following days Marian spent with Andrew were some of the most satisfying in her life. His symptoms eased and he became the vital, intelligent man he was when in remission. He delighted in Marian’s small displays of magic, forged ahead in settling his affairs, closing his business and selling the house. In that, they worked well together. Andrew liquidated his holdings and bought gold and gems while Marian dealt with the paperwork of their disappearance.
They flew back to Denver by private jet a couple of days before they were to be Summoned.
On the night Marian’s other self was thrown into the Dark’s nest, Andrew took her to an expensive restaurant and kept her mind occupied by making her tell him stories of Lladrana. But her underlying fears remained and her body betrayed her by twitching until Andrew grabbed her and held her close.
The morning of the Summoning, Marian moved the two cots she and Andrew had slept on to the building’s storage unit and left them. She returned to a clean apartment, bare except for the items they would need for the Summoning. Andrew had placed his night gear in his pack, put on the music. He stood outside the scarlet-taped star and circle looking thoughtful. Their packs lay in the middle of the star.
“You know, this is going to look awfully strange to the property manager when he walks in.”
“This is Boulder,” Marian said tensely, reviewing her notes. Anxiety that her mind would go blank bit deep. “Besides, I’m going to leave the door unlocked. Maybe they’ll think someone else laid the tape. I’m sure the brass incense burner and the mini music system will be stolen by the time someone in authority gets here.”
Andrew patted her shoulder and shook his head. “I think they’ll know you did it. Everyone knows you’ve always been weird, Marian,” he teased.
Marian chuckled weakly, scanned his face, rubbed her throat. “Ready? You’re sure you want to go?” They’d taped the pentacle together. Andrew had practiced the chant, too.
“Like the other ten billion times you’ve asked me—yes, I want to go. This is a real adventure.” He adjusted his hat to a rakish angle. He wore a full leather suit of pants, vest, heavy jacket and an Indiana Jones-style hat. The hat reminded Marian of the hideous hat that Jaquar wore and she felt her heart pump faster at the knowledge she’d soon see him. For him, it would be a mere two days since she left, but for her it had been weeks.
He’d know that and factor it in when he pressed for a renewal of their relationship.
Marian wore her underwear and her purple robe. She’d packed a silk pantsuit and several pairs of jeans. She had some in Alexa’s size, too, and was bringing a package of Tuck’s favorite hamster treats. She had new electronic “nuts” for him—encyclopedias, books and music.
She set her shoulders. “Let’s do it.” She glanced down at her notes, shoved them into the center to consult.
“Easy,” Andrew said as he caught her left hand in his right one.
His fingers didn’t have tension running through them, his body was relaxed, Marian noted with envy. His right hand held the tiger’s eye full of energy that Jaquar had given her.
She looked at her watch. “We’re running a little ahead of schedule.”
“All to the good. Let’s start.”
“I don’t know…”
“You must believe we can do it,” Andrew said.
“What if it’s not right?”
He just chuckled. “I can’t think that magic spells are so precise that there is no room for mistakes, can you?”
She didn’t know, but it couldn’t hurt t
o be as perfect as possible.
So they began the Ritual tailored to Earth Song and magic that Marian had crafted. They lit the incense together, closed the Circle, began the chant. Andrew’s voice was low, deeper than Marian had ever heard, fervent-sounding.
He wanted to do this. The knowledge should have relaxed her, but it didn’t. She was strung tight as a piano wire.
Mother Earth’s Song rose from the ground through her feet, surged through Marian like a benediction. Andrew’s fingers clamped over hers.
They chanted the final note.
A sizzling firebolt hit between their feet.
Andrew jerked. Marian gasped.
They shot into the Dimensional Corridor even as Marian was thinking that the property manager wasn’t going to like the singed carpet and it was good she’d reconciled herself to not getting her deposit back.
“Marian?” Andrew shouted over the winds roaring around him.
His eyes stared as if he didn’t see what she did—a shining, nearly translucent portal across the hall from them. Through it she could see a huge Circle of Marshalls, Circlets, Scholars, Chevaliers…. But it wasn’t the Temple at the Marshalls’ Castle!
The incised pentacle was the one at Parteger Island—a place she never cared to see again.
“Marian!” Andrew shivered as if the winds buffeted him.
No breeze stirred the bottom of Marian’s robe. She was in control here.
With a slight tug on Andrew’s hand, she led him to the portal, and through it.
They dropped about four feet to the gray stone. Marian steadied Andrew as the breath jarred from him on landing.
Amee’s Song flooded her, held her transfixed. Earth’s Song diminished, left with a farewell of distant thunder, the image of a gray sky over the Boulder Flatirons, and the scent of ozone after a storm. Marian blinked back tears to see Andrew gawking around them, swaying.
Power sizzled through her—from the midmorning sunlight, the hot stone beneath her feet, the triumphant cry of Amee at the arrival of another warrior. Wind whirled around her like a thousand blessings, stroking her with love, from Amee—and from Jaquar?
Sorceress of Faith Page 39
