Sorceress of Faith

“Pairling?” asked Marian.

“Husband, partner.” Alexa frowned. “Isn’t there a word ‘shieldmate’?”

“Yes,” Marian said.

Alexa nodded. “Then he’s my shieldmate. We fight together.”

A chill slithered down Marian’s spine and she glanced at Alexa’s sword out of the corner of her eye. It appeared well used, with plenty of nicks on the fingerguard. Marian couldn’t imagine fighting with a sword or shield. A hint of the dreams she’d had at home drifted through her mind. She’d fought, though, with magic. This was feeling more and more ominous. She ran her hands up and down her arms.

“You may go, Apprentice,” Bossgond said in a tone he hadn’t used before with her.

She stiffened and frowned at him. But that made her think, too. Alexa apparently was a Marshall, which Marian had deduced was a powerful elite. She was stuck as an Apprentice.

Alexa jerked her head to the door. “You should have seen the horrible Tests the Marshalls put me through the minute I arrived,” Alexa said under her breath.

She shuddered, and Marian knew the woman was utterly sincere.

Marian followed her. “Bossgond showed me an image of you walking in the mountains. Colorado?”

“Yes.”

“You had brown hair.”

Throwing open the door, Alexa stepped into the sunlight. It gleamed on her silver hair. She looked back at Marian. “It was one of those turn-white-overnight deals. The night I came.”

“Really?” Marian’s mouth had dried. As she went through the door she welcomed the cheery warmth of the sun.

“Yeah, and my eyes deepened in color, too,” Alexa said, her curled fingers showing white knuckles as they clasped the top of her baton.

The door slipped from Marian’s grasp and slammed shut.

Alexa smiled at Marian and switched to English again. “You know your way around here?”

“Not much.”

Chuckling, Alexa said, “It’s only been a couple of days since you arrived—but I’m sure they’ve been jam-packed with experiences.”

“Oh yes,” Marian said fervently. “I remember a nice forest path and a peaceful meadow a few minutes away—will that suit?”

“For sure.” She tilted her head. “I’m connected mentally to my husband, Bastien. He’s giving us privacy and hiding from Bossgond. He says he’ll talk to the old mage when he’s ready.”

Marian led the way from Bossgond’s Tower. They paused at the forcefield for Marian to open a “door” for Alexa. Outside Bossgond’s sphere of influence they stood in the sun and studied each other.

“I like the looks of you,” Alexa said.

Marian felt relief from an anxiety that she hadn’t known she was feeling. “I like the looks of you, too.”

She held out her hand and they shook, then Alexa turned Marian’s arm over to see her wrist. Alexa’s eyes sharpened.

“You’ve blood-bonded with Bossgond?”

“Yes, as Master and Apprentice.” Marian pouted a little.

“Won’t be long until you’re a Circlet,” Alexa said casually, confidently. “The Song only Summons the best.”

Marian liked her more and more.

Alexa held out her left arm and pushed her sleeve up, showing her own tattoo: crossed wands. One was green with flames coming out of the top, the other black with silver twined around it. “This is my Pair-bond with Bastien—it’s a blood-bond, sex bond, love bond. We haven’t had a formal ceremony—like a wedding—the full binding—yet, though. We’re both a little nervous about that.”

Then she flipped open the short sheath and drew out the green stick shown on the tattoo. It looked like jade.

“It’s my baton—do you want to see it?” The offer was cheerfully made, but her gaze watchful.

As soon as Marian touched the cool jade, a hard shock jolted up her arm. She hung on as the energy—Alexa’s energy—whirled through her, then settled, itchy, under her skin. As she stared at the baton, carved figures appeared, and the flames at the end danced.

Alexa’s eyes widened and she nodded incisively. “Good. I thought you might be able to handle and use it. My husband, Bastien, can hold it for a couple of minutes, use it once, but that’s all. It’s good to know that you could wield it in an emergency.”

“What emergency?” Marian said faintly, her stomach tightening, watching mercury flow viscously in a glass tube under the flames.

“On the battlefield, if I fall,” Alexa said.

Marian dropped the baton. Alexa caught it—or rather, it flew into her hand. Marian stared at the woman, fit and strong, with the scar running down her cheek and somber eyes. Alexa heaved a sigh.

“I was afraid that they’d leave this to me. That miserable old man. But maybe you won’t be fighting. Many Circlets don’t.” She shrugged, but her voice was faintly condemning. “Let’s walk and talk.”

“I’m not staying here. I have a life back home.”

“Which is?”

“Boulder.”

“Ah.” Alexa’s smile was quick and charming, but she covered the ground rapidly. “Thought I pegged you for an academic.”

“I’m working on my doctorate in Comparative Religion and Philosophy,” Marian said stiffly.

Alexa halted in the small meadow. A couple of large rocks graced the center, looking like seats. She turned to Marian and tapped herself on the chest. “Swordmarshall Alexa Fitzwalter, Esquire, Attorney at Law.”

“You’re a lawyer?” It was the last thing Marian would have guessed.

“Was.” Alexa hitched herself up on one of the rocks and wiggled to get comfortable. “Nice seat, warm from the sun.” She smiled serenely at Marian. “Now I do all my fighting on a battlefield, not in a courtroom.” A shadow lingered in her eyes.

Marian wasn’t ready to hear her story. She had to make something else very clear, first.

“I’m not staying. I can’t. I have a life I must return to.”

Alexa lifted her chin. “I have a life I crafted here.”

“I have a brother with MS.”