Sorceress of Faith. Robin D. Owens

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СКАЧАТЬ met Marian’s gaze. “Make sure you ask about Pair-Bonding. And the Snap!”

      Bossgond intoned, “Vont!”

      The room disappeared. Vertigo hit Marian, and in the next instant she fell onto a thick rug into which was woven a red pentagram.

      “Gagghhh,” she croaked. Brilliant. Wonderful impression to make on her teacher—and now the man whose power she was under.

      Surely she could beat him physically if she had to, couldn’t she? Heaven knew she had heft.

      But he sat next to her, watching with concerned eyes, then stooped and brushed back her hair. Then he took her hand and helped her up with unexpected strength, banished the flowing energy lines around his pentagram with a whistle. Then he led her to a soft chair that looked a lot like a fancy outdoor lounger. A series of velvet pillows was attached to an adjustable wooden frame; the back was set in a reclined position and the footrest was elevated.

      Marian sat, leaned back and arranged the cloak in folds around her. She’d kept a good grip on the front since receiving the cape and it had only flapped open a little now and then, but had saved her modesty.

      In Lladrana.

      Alexa had called it Lladrana. Who was she, and why wasn’t she the one helping Marian?

      Bossgond, who’d gone to a sink on the far side of the Tower, came back with a goblet of water. From the sprig of leaves that floated on top she guessed it wasn’t just water. She picked the greenery out of the cup and sniffed. Minty. She dropped the leaves back into the drink and, keeping her eyes on the old man, swallowed a bit.

      He smiled in reassurance, took the cup from her, drank some himself and handed it back. Had she looked that suspicious?

      Bossgond went to a large cabinet and opened it. Out floated a sphere the size of an exercise ball. Large and blue-green-brown, it rotated slowly. Marian’s stomach tightened when she realized it was a globe, but that the oceans and continents were unknown to her. She looked away.

      “Amee,” Bossgond said.

      First things first. Finding out how time passed on this new world was of the utmost importance. All around her and through her, magic surged like electricity. She should be able to master it and use it to help Andrew, but how much time did she have?

      She stood and moved closer to the globe, saw three large continents and a countrylike portion outlined in black.

      When the globe completed one full rotation, she said, “One day.” As it continued to move, she ticked off the days on her hand.

      Feeling a little foolish, she continued with her mime. She drew a pentagram, then sat on the floor. “Earth!” she said.

      With skinny little brows raised, he said, “Exotique Terre.”

      “Terra.” She nodded.

      His eyebrows rose higher. “Exotique Terre.”

      Marian sighed and repeated, “Exotique Terre.” With whooshing sounds and wide gestures, and more noises to indicate the gong and chimes and chants, she acted out her trip to Lladrana.

      Then she went to the globe again and counted days as it rotated, tilting her head in a question. Was any of this getting through?

      Bossgond frowned, then crossed his tower room to more shelves and cupboards. He returned with a crude globe of Earth, about five inches around. When she took the heavy ball of metal, she sensed someone from her own world had made it. The echoes of the Song of Mother Earth lingered. She could do better.

      Narrowing her eyes, she concentrated, reaching deep inside her for the Earth-song. While she was at it, she visualized the continents and oceans as best she could. Not well enough. She closed her eyes and thought of space shots of the earth, radar and Doppler weather maps, especially of the United States, and Colorado.

      The metal in her hands warmed. When she opened her eyes, the globe looked a lot better, the land masses and oceans well-defined. She scowled at the eastern coastline of the United States. Something was definitely off there; Australia and Asia weren’t as sharp as on a regular globe. Not perfect. Her shoulders slumped.

      Bossgond’s bony fingers closed over her shoulder and squeezed. Catching her gaze with his own chocolate-brown one, he gave a little bow. “Thank you. You have increased my knowledge of Exotique Terre tenfold.”

      He was trying to drive another point home. She was well aware of a teacher’s body language. Cradling the Earth globe in the crook of his arm, he touched the much larger orb with his index finger.

      “Amee.” He glanced at her, eyes piercing. “Thay parfay.”

      Ah, the words were close enough to French. The image of planet Amee wasn’t perfect.

      So he could sense her emotions, or perhaps he just read her dissatisfaction with her construct in her face.

      She sighed.

      Bossgond released the Earth-globe and it hung next to the large one of Amee. Earth rotated slower, in sync with Amee’s days and nights. Amazing that the days were the same—or perhaps this was an alternative earth—but with different continents? Maybe all the planets with similar rotations were reached by one dimensional corridor….

      Marian’s head hurt. She had too little information for hypothesis, and so much was happening.

      All the tension in her body at the thought of being trapped here and Andrew worrying himself into seizures released in a long shudder. Weary, she swallowed hard, walked stiffly back to the lounge chair and sank into the pillows, closing her eyes.

      When she opened them, she gazed up at Bossgond, feeling lost. He urged her to drink more of the herbal liquid, and she did. Her stomach calmed.

      Bossgond touched her shoulder. “Marian,” he said. Tapping his chest, he said, “Bossgond.”

      He was encouraging her, emphasizing how much she’d already learned. That she was learning with every breath, with every glance.

      He took her hand and linked their fingers. She sensed great age. Vitality, isolation.

      Looking down at their hands, she saw a white aura, heard chords forming into a song. He smiled, and she found herself smiling back. Bossgond patted her hand and rose.

      He went to the pentagram and fished out the large crystal ball from his bag, then returned. With a little tune, mist swirled inside the sphere, then solidified into the image of the handsome magician who’d first entered the pentacle with her.

      “Jaquar Dumont,” Bossgond said.

      Marian remembered the older woman who’d spoken for the Marshalls calling him that, in flat tones. Jaquar.

      “Chalmon Pace,” Bossgond said, and the other mage’s face replaced Jaquar’s.

      He looked like a pompous associate professor, ever conscious of his status and sure of his worth. Still, there was something in his eyes that made Marian think he could be a good friend. His image faded.

      The female magician appeared СКАЧАТЬ