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Her frantic gaze scanned the room. The hole to Colorado was gone, though that wouldn’t have done much good.
She didn’t know where the door to the room was, what was outside, or if there were other people. The baby’s only hope was those who’d already harmed her. So Alexa tried once more.
“Help!” she screamed. “Help her!”
A second later the doctor tore the child from her grasp. Alexa slipped and hit the floor hard. Again.
The healer pressed the infant to her breast and crooned a spell. Pulsing green light bathed them. An instant later the baby coughed, then screeched.
Alexa had never heard anything so sweet in her life, but she wondered what was going on. What were their intentions?
Growling drowned out the baby’s cries. A man with a raised knife flashing in the dim light hurled himself at Alexa. She cringed and rolled, muscles protesting in new agony. Mad fury slammed into her, from him, her attacker. Again she fought to get her breath. She rolled, couldn’t make it to her feet, was stranded on her back. He snarled, angling the knife.
His face twisted. In his eyes she saw revulsion, bone-deep hatred because she was different. Never to be trusted. Only to be slain.
She flung up her arms. Her soaked clothes constricted. Liquid trickled onto her skin and stung. The room spun, and a sea of emotions from everyone inundated her. Something in her mind broke free.
Her cry matched his. A weapon flew into her open hand. Unnecessary. With fear and panic, with her mind, she slammed her assailant across the room. She heard him hit the wall with a thud, then slither to the floor.
Oh God! Oh God, she’d hurt a man using her will alone!
She lurched to her knees, planted a foot, then another, and rocked to her feet. A couple of women moved to the still man, one wailing. Everyone else watched her.
Alexa bared her teeth at them. She’d never done such a thing in her life, but she now acted totally on instinct. This night was beyond belief. Beyond anything she’d ever imagined.
That she might have killed a man with the sheer force of her mind shattered the last rational belief she’d ever held. Nothing was the same. Nothing was right. Nothing was reasonable. Only primal intuition could save her.
She hefted the weight in her hand, considered what she held. It was a stick about two feet long and three inches thick, made of something like ivory and capped at each end with gold. One end was pointed, the other straight. Carved figures of knights fighting monsters covered the staff. It looked far too big to be a wand, but she’d bet anything that it was a magical tool. She slid it through her hands, enjoying the texture, though she sensed a nasty tingle of energy. Finding a button, she pressed it. A little brass hook with a blunt end popped from the side, as if it was there to hang the stick from a belt loop.
A shout attracted her attention. When she looked up, everyone was staring at her, as always.
Alexa raised the short staff.
The smallest man opened his mouth and began a chant. His melodious voice was the richest she’d ever heard, set in a soothing cadence. The others joined in, and though the music didn’t sound the same here in the round church of wherever, Alexa knew it was that which had drawn her to this dreadful place. She could almost see the small man’s voice as the stream of yellow in the rainbow that had compelled her into the arch. The big, mean guy’s voice was jerky with some emotion, and his intentions didn’t quite match the others, but Alexa felt he was the bright red, fluctuating band. The angular lady was indigo.
As he sang, the small man gestured, and the others slid their swords into sheaths. The leader’s staff burned with a yellow flame at the tip. He set it aside and it stood by itself.
Alexa blinked. She was too exhausted and wrung out to goggle. The indigo woman stepped forward, raising her hands to her shoulders, palms outward. Another gesture Alexa understood.
She turned her back on them to check on the baby. Instead of the doctor, a teenaged girl held the child. The girl watched Alexa with huge eyes.
The baby was bundled warmly in a thick fleece blanket. Alexa motioned to her. “Is she all right?”
The youngster seemed to understand what Alexa said. She nodded. Alexa wondered if that meant agreement.
She hooked the stick in a belt loop of her jeans and pointed from the baby to herself and held out her arms. “Give her to me.”
Wariness crept into the girl’s gaze.
“Give her to me!” Alexa demanded.
The girl’s glance slid from Alexa to the circle of people behind her. Whatever she saw reassured her. Carefully, she held out the baby.
Alexa cradled the child, pliant but live, in her arms. She flipped the corner of the blanket from the baby’s face. Sleepy brown eyes gazed up at her. A little smile emitted a bubble of drool. Alexa sighed. She put her finger to each small fist in turn and smiled back when the baby clasped it, then the tiny girl snuggled against her and shut her eyes.
“Marwey,” the teenager said.
Alexa looked up.
The girl pointed to herself. “Marwey.”
“Alexa,” Alexa said.
“Al-yek-ah,” Marwey pronounced.
Alexa shrugged.
Marwey pointed to the baby. “Nyja.” The girl gestured to the indigo lady, “Marshall Sabre Thealia.” Then Marwey indicated the big guy. “Dom Marshall Sabre Reynardus.” Finally, Marwey inclined her head to the short, round man. “Marshall Boucilier Partis.”
All right. Alexa deduced that Thealia and the short man, Partis—probably her husband—had one title and the big jerk had two. Figured.
The healer came up and held out her arms for the baby.
Alexa clutched her closer.
The doctor said something that sounded gentle.
Alexa patted the baby. “Is she going to be all right?” Alexa emphasized the rising inflection of a question and raised her eyebrows, hoping such signals would get her meaning across.
“Ayes.” The healer nodded vigorously, smiling.
Slowly Alexa handed the infant over.
The doctor unwrapped the baby and freed her arms and legs so Alexa could see them whole and moving. The baby girl’s face screwed up and she cried. The healer shushed her and turned.
“Wait!” Alexa said.
The healer looked over her shoulder.
Alexa pointed to the shadows where the man she’d sent flying had lain. “Is he going to be all right?” Her stomach clutched as she waited for an answer.
In broad pantomime the doctor lifted her shoulders high and dropped them, frowned. Then she bobbed her head at Alexa, said something to Marwey and took the baby away.
Alexa’s chest constricted. She’d considered the baby her only friend in this place. And how absurd was that?
Hard bootsteps striding in her direction made her pivot. Reynardus, scowling and muttering under his breath, marched to her. Again she felt fury—this man’s fury—batter at her. Alexa shuddered.
The little round man, Partis, hurried forward and stepped in front of her, forestalling Reynardus. Once again Partis held his staff with yellow fire flickering at the top. Facing the others, he said a few sentences.
Raising his voice, Reynardus argued. With a motion, wind whipped around him, the nobles’ robes flapped, Alexa’s clothes plastered cold and wet to her skin. To Alexa’s surprise, Partis stood his ground. Thealia came and stood next to him, raised her hand and stilled the air. Alexa’s vision sharpened—she saw the energy fields of the man and woman. His was yellow and hers as indigo as her stream in the rainbow. They flowed together as if becoming a single entity, and the whole aura pulsed stronger—and malachite green. Their Songs melded into a lovely pattern.
Finally, Reynardus stepped around the couple and flung out his hand in demand to Alexa. Alexa jutted a hip, put her hand on it, and raised her eyebrows. She’d dealt with plenty of arrogant attorneys. She smiled with all her teeth. She could be a predator too. The memory of the sound as the man she’d fought hit the wall tugged at her and nausea rose. She pushed it aside. Pushed all thought aside. She had to be strong, show no fear, if she was to win the respect she needed to be safe.
The big jerk, Reynardus, barked an order at her. Gestured.
Alexa didn’t get it. She widened her stance and set her hands on her hips, just noticing that her clothes had dried. She angled her chin up. God, she’d crash when the adrenaline stopped, but she was jazzed now. The ends of her hair lifted. Heat and energy throbbed along her skin, silky with power.
He growled, his eyes narrowed in frustration. With wide movements he tapped the empty sheath along his right side. He pointed to the stick she’d hooked to her jeans. He snapped his fingers, opened a broad, calloused palm.
Alexa smiled. “No!” She put her hand on the short staff under the pointed tip and angled it forward, curved her fingers around it.
She heard the grinding of his teeth as he repeated his actions.
“No!” she shouted. Grinned. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?”
“Ttho!” Marwey said from a little beside and behind Alexa.
When Alexa slid her gaze to Marwey, the girl continued. “No—ttho!” She smiled sweetly as if she too enjoyed thwarting Reynardus. “No—ttho!”
Alexa turned back to the big guy. “Ttho! What part of ‘ttho’ don’t you understand?”
Thealia bit off some words. Then she spouted what could only be instructions, gesturing. Alexa watched closely, but only understood that the lady wanted someone to go and get something.
A massive man, even bigger than Reynardus, clomped over. He scanned Alexa up and down. She returned his stare. He snorted, took some huge gloves—gauntlets?—from his belt, pulled them on and went in the same direction as the doctor. Squinting, Alexa finally saw the door in the shadows, huge and pointed.
After he left, the others talked among themselves. The words hummed in the room like the low-level buzz of bees on a summer afternoon.
Alexa unhooked the stick, pushed the hook into the short staff and took time to compose herself. Though the others watched her, no one was threatening. She loosened her muscles and kept upright. So many emotions and reactions to the night’s adventures tumbled through her that she kept a hard clamp on them and tried to use pure observation and reason. She glanced around the room while keeping an eye out for any more danger, holding the stick ready.
The chamber, round and very large, was made of white stone. All the furnishings appeared to be the very best any world could provide. Around half the room ran a built-in stone bench with padded seats, jewel-toned large pillows and rugs around its base. Colorful tapestries of pastoral scenes alternated with bright banners showing coats of arms. Windows were set high in the wall, about two stories up, and were as pointed as the door.
The altar was in the same quadrant as the pentacle and draped in maroon velvet, with a white lace over-panel. It held the bright rainbow of crystals—could they be huge precious stones?—the chime stick, two knives, a large smoking incense burner and two goblets, one of silver and one of gold.
Alexa was just wondering if she dared explore when the door creaked open and the huge man walked in. The scent of a damp, cold night wafted in with him, along with the hint of a smokey fire. The humid mixture of odors wasn’t one Alexa would smell in Colorado. Her emotions threatened to break through the barrier she had erected. She couldn’t let go! She couldn’t afford to be seen as weak or vulnerable. She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.
The massive guy stopped in front of Thealia. He held a rolled bundle—Alexa studied it and exhaled in relief—nothing living or newly dead was in it.
They talked a moment, then Thealia directed the others. They all formed a half-circle facing Alexa. Reynardus, still glowering, was the end of the half-moon to her left.
The huge man entered the half-circle and laid his bundle on the floor before Alexa. Just bending from the waist put him eye level with her. He stared at her as he unrolled the cloth. It clinked a little, made sounds of wood and metal and glass. The cloth was made of quilted felt, and she could see seams between pockets. The man flipped back the top flap.
Alexa reflexively retreated a step. The others murmured.
Before her were four rows of ten pockets. Most showed the top of a stick like the one she held. All looked old and valuable and powerful. Imbued with magic.
Thealia glided up, and the huge man took her former place in the half-circle. She gestured expansively to the sticks. “Batons,” she said. Or something close enough for Alexa to understand it. Batons. Were they the same as magic wands? What could they do? What did they signify? The healer hadn’t worn one. Nor did Marwey. But everyone else did.
“Deshouse,” Thealia said, making the same sweep with her hand. When Alexa didn’t move, the lady frowned. She walked down the long row and indicated each pocket with one toe of an elegant slipper, as if demonstrating the word choose.
Alexa got distracted by the slipper, peeking out and showing a narrow foot, then retreating under Thealia’s skirts. It was pointed and looked to have jewels set in a pattern like a flower—
“Alyeka, deshouse!”
Mind wandering. Not surprising after all she’d been through. Still, the evening of adventure and discovery wasn’t over. Alexa stiffened her spine and narrowed her eyes to see the batons better. She pressed her lips together as she concentrated, believing she could see faint outlines of energy. But how did she choose? By the attractiveness? The color and the jewels that appealed to her? By the “aura”? By smell? A couple of them were polished wood. Should she touch them?
No. Definitely not touch each one. Who knew what sort of electrical, magical, whatever, charge she might receive?
Still she felt as if she was coming to the end of her strength. If she needed to choose, she would. A smooth wand of dark green jade caught her eye. It looked slightly thinner than the others. Her fingers would close easier around it. The top was finished in tarnished bronze in the shape of flames, round at the bottom, pointed at the tips. Just below the metal was a small tube of a transparent material, glass or crystal, circling the jade. Now, that was interesting. What could the tube hold? Blood? She was definitely letting her imagination run away with her. There was another clear tube at the bottom of the staff.
Each time her tired eyes traveled up and down the myriad sticks, they lingered on the jade baton.
Alexa took a step forward and everyone hushed. She thought if she squatted she wouldn’t find the energy to stand again, so she bent forward to scrutinize the wand. She couldn’t see anything in the tube. She nibbled at her lip. When she looked up, she met the glare of Reynardus. Awkwardly she tossed him his baton.
He grunted as he caught it. Ran his hands up and down it as if checking for new nicks. Then he sniffed it and scowled at her. His eyes seemed to sink into the deep shadows of his sockets until they were lost except for a gleam of distaste.
Well, she probably had sweated on the thing. Or transferred some of the liquid from the pool to it. Still, sniffing seemed incredibly rude. She sent him a pointed glance and sniffed at him as if he were the inadequate one.
He muttered something under his breath.
“Sanctuaire!” reproved Thealia.
He shut his mouth, but Alexa thought he still cursed.
Minute trembling began in her calves and Alexa took the warning that she was at the end of her endurance. She slipped the jade wand from its pocket.
It blazed like a green candle, parts of it becoming translucent and beautiful.
The others sighed. She heard whispers of approval. Alexa blinked as she looked at the flame atop her new possession—her only possession besides her small fanny pack and clothes—Push that thought aside. The little sculpture glowed with copper and bronze flames, as if new. They seemed to flicker inside the metal too. Small white sparks flew from the tip of the longest flame.
Wow.
Seeing movement inside the upper tube, she brought it closer to examine. Mercury, also known as quicksilver. Mysterious and fascinating.
Thealia clapped her hands sharply. Alexa looked at her. She touched her chest with elegant fingers. “Marshall Sabre Thealia.” She repeated Marwey’s introductions. Thealia curved her hand over Partis’s shoulder. “Marshall Boucilier Partis.” Thealia inclined her head toward Reynardus. “Dom Marshall Sabre Reynardus.”
Thealia nodded and waved at Alexa. “Marshall Alyeka.”
Oh boy. Alexa hung on tighter to her stick—baton. She couldn’t assimilate much more.
Thealia launched into a little speech with lots of gestures. She indicated the circle of Marshalls, the pentacle, goblets and gong. She hummed a snatch of the music, pantomimed Alexa whooshing down onto the floor. Then she clasped her hands and bowed to Alexa.
“Marwey?” Thealia gestured to Marwey and mimed talking, then indicated her head, Marwey’s, and Alexa’s. Alexa didn’t like the idea forming in her mind.
The young girl, shorter and slighter than Alexa, slowly lifted thin arms. Marwey curled her palms around Thealia’s face. They seemed to commune. Marwey stepped back.
Sure enough, Thealia indicated Marwey should do the same with Alexa.
There was a long pause as Alexa considered. She studied the girl, who looked young and innocent and good. When Alexa half-shut her eyelids she could see a bright aqua aura around Marwey. For some reason it reassured her. Like evil would show big black smears? Maybe. Maybe. Her instincts seemed to be guiding her well enough tonight.
