arrived. We may not have time for her full training.”
Venetria pursed her lips. “True. I hope Bossgond teaches her rapidly and well.”
Chalmon said, “The Sorceress watching the nest this morning stated there has been increased activity, as if more monsters would soon be released.” He squared his shoulders. “I contacted the others. We—the group of us—agree that we may have to move faster than anticipated.”
Anger stirred inside Jaquar. “Sounds as if you were busy during my trip from my island this evening.”
Eyes steely, Chalmon said, “From the Power I felt surrounding the Exotique, she is strong enough and Exotique enough to penetrate the magical shield keeping the rest of us at bay.”
“I want her trained up to Circlet status first,” Jaquar insisted. “It would be foolish to throw away such a fearsome weapon as Marian without learning all she is capable of.” He stood and paced. “Has it occurred to you that the Master is baiting a trap? And he wants us to do just as we planned—send the new Exotique Marian to her destruction instead of guarding her and using her? She’s Powerful and could be the worst danger to him if she develops into a Circlet, unites us and fights with us and Exotique Alyeka.”
Chalmon shifted his shoulders. “That may well be true, but I’m sure she could hurt the nest, and you saw what one sangvile did. Its damage is exponential. If the Master releases several—”
“We are watching. We will know when the horrors leave the nest maw. We know how to defeat all the monsters we’ve encountered so far, including the sangvile, including the dreeth. I do not want to act in haste!”
Venetria and Chalmon exchanged glances.
“We should definitely spend more time with her and learn her Powers before we solidify our plans,” Venetria said. She grimaced. “I suppose we should visit Bossgond.”
“He’ll probably be having many people dropping by—Circlets of the Tower and Marshalls, too. Nothing will stop Exotique Alyeka from greeting another from her old world.” Jaquar smiled as he recalled the small woman’s excitement the previous day. “And since Alyeka doesn’t fly well, her husband, Bastien, will bring her. As a black-and-white, Bastien has a wide streak of curiosity himself.”
Jaquar chuckled. “Yes, Bossgond’s Tower may become a busy place. Enough to make him cranky. I plan to go see him and Marian myself.”
Venetria and Chalmon watched Jaquar leave. As they stood at the top of the tower, Chalmon’s fingers tightened on hers, his profile went stern. The Song between them was rough and uneven as their thoughts and desires conflicted. As usual.
“I didn’t ask to be jolted out of my complacency and into the knowledge of great danger.”
She jerked her hand from his and turned away from the window. “I’m sorry I burdened you when my aunt died, made you face what the sangvile could do to us,” she said stiffly. “I must go.” She’d wanted to stay, had felt protected and warm here, even though his furnishings were not to her taste. He’d never noticed that, of course. She digressed from the topic he’d introduced, but she didn’t want to think about what plans he might propose.
He grasped her, both hands on her shoulders. “Jaquar is deviating from his original tune in this.”
“Easier to consider harm to an unknown person than someone we’ve met.”
“A very beautiful woman who has an intriguing Song. Who he held in his arms, who spun notes with him even during a short interval.” Now Chalmon gazed beyond her. “But if Jaquar retreats from this plan, I will not.” His hawkish stare met hers again, pinned her. “What of you?”
“I don’t know.”
Marian woke at the feel of a cool, damp, herbal-scented cloth wiping her face. Bossgond stared down at her, concerned.
“It’s only been a few minutes, and is still evening,” he said in a raspy voice. “Let us adjourn to my chambers.”
Testing her arms and legs, Marian stretched. Her limbs worked fine, though her insides felt a little hollow.
She took Bossgond’s hand and rose, stood a moment, but no dizziness occurred. Smiling at her master, a man whose bark was worse than his bite from all she’d learned of him, she went with him back down to his study.
It seemed even more comfortable since Marian had experienced the Power it had taken to raise the Tower, the money—known here as zhiv—to furnish it.
Attentive, Bossgond settled Marian in the nest of pillows in the center of the room, then brought her coffee. She’d discovered through their bonding that coffee wasn’t rare—not as rare as tea—but Bossgond considered it a treat.
He sat opposite her, his wrinkled cheeks faintly flushed. “We are bonded, but not as deeply as usual between Master and Apprentice. To compensate for my failure to complete the full bonding I will show you something special tomorrow morning.”
Marian stared at him, recognizing that his self-condemnation at such a “failure,” wasn’t attractive. He’d done his best, hadn’t he? They did have a bond, a Song, and it felt strong to her. He’d done neither of them harm. In fact, harm to him had been averted, since the strangeness of Earth had threatened his sanity. Yet he expected her to condemn him? She didn’t know what to say.
He waved a hand irritably. “You may go.”
So she curtsied and left. Head crammed full of the day’s experiences, she wound down the stairs thinking that she should keep a journal. She entered her room in full dark, but before the door closed behind her, a soft light flickered on.
A lantern atop the large desk glowed—bright on the first blank pages of an open book. Marian’s mouth dropped open, but she was too tired to make a sound, too weary to mess with the feather pen sitting in the pretty gold-edged glass inkwell.
Instead she went behind the stained-glass partition to her bedroom and removed her clothes and shoes, folding her dress up as she’d found it. Not a wrinkle or a speck of dirt marred the cloth. On one of the lower shelves she found a pile of pale gowns that looked like nightwear, and drew one on, sighing with tired pleasure as the soft material whispered over her skin. When she climbed into bed and found the sheets warm, she chuckled. Magic could provide incredible luxury.
Trying her own Power, she said, “Lights out,” and smiled as darkness enveloped her loft.
Just before she fell asleep, a thought occurred to her: all her skill in being able to shape weather would not help Andrew.
In the morning Marian found a little golden tattoo of a bird on the inside of her left wrist, but no other scar. When she tried to converse with Bossgond at breakfast, he replied in grunts, and she decided he was naturally a grumpy old man who’d tried to tone down his manner for the past couple of days. She much preferred his slight deception to her mother’s hypocrisy. They ate another bland cheese omelette and coffee.
She must remember to get them a cook.
After breakfast her heart pumped hard as he gestured to the oversize binoculars—the ones he used to watch Earth. They had their own stand of polished brass. The instrument itself was of copper-inlaid brass and shone—obviously Bossgond’s pride and joy. The eyepieces were the right size; it was the other end that held great lenses, each about three feet in diameter.
Bossgond went to the stand and adjusted gleaming gears. “I’ve been observing your Exotique Terre for half a year now—as soon as a Circlet reported that destiny tunes indicated more Exotiques would be Summoned.”
“Oh?” Marian encouraged.
“Then the Marshalls Summoned the first Exotique as expected, to keep and train as one of their own, and indications appeared that we, the Tower Community of Circlets, should accept the next Exotique as one of us.”
He was leaving a lot out, Marian was