The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [29]
Rosette felt the blood rush up to her cheeks. ‘Right. The sword as well.’
‘Where?’ Nell asked.
‘Bangeesh Temple has excellent teachers of both star-lore and the bow, spell-craft and sword-craft. It’d be perfect, except…’
‘Except their Sword Master has retired and his successor, though greatly experienced, is hopeless at teaching.’
‘I didn’t know that.’ She raised her brows. ‘I was going to say, it’s very close to Lividica. We seldom speak of it, Nell, but I don’t think it would be safe to go back there yet. Maybe never.’
Rosette’s heart tugged as she said the words. Whole weeks went by when she didn’t think of her family. When the memory did come flooding back, it was as raw as ever. And there was Jarrod. She thought of him all the time. It was like she’d seen him only yesterday, even though she knew he’d have changed. His kisses still lingered on her lips and she wished with a passion he’d stayed that night on the beach, so many years ago. She looked up, realising that Nell was talking.
‘I feel the danger has passed, as long as you keep your identity to yourself. You have a point, though—the proximity of Bangeesh might jog the wrong person’s memory. We don’t want that.’
Rosette sighed.
‘What about Treeon Temple?’ Nell suggested, her lips curving into a sensual smile. ‘They have an outstanding Sword Master there.’
‘Treeon? Where you trained? Who’s the Sword Master?’
‘An’ Lawrence,’ Nell said evenly.
‘What’s his chart like? Would he be a good teacher?’
‘The sun in the sign of Ceres, conjunct Saturn.’
‘Meticulous. Refined, strong and exacting?’
‘To say the least.’
‘Moon?’
‘Scorpion.’
She whistled. ‘Intense?’
‘Very.’
‘He’d like me?’
Nell murmured, ‘I imagine he would…’
‘And he’s from?’
‘From the east, Rosette—beyond the fields of Corsanon.’ She smiled. ‘He learned his art from the priestesses of Timbali, many years ago.’
‘Before the Corsanon wars?’
‘And during.’
‘Only initiates with great potential can train with Timbali witches. Isn’t that true, Nell? Either that or they’re descendants of the old monarchy…’ She looked at Nell’s lips. Her smile was twitching. ‘Is he of that line?’
Nell nodded.
‘Incredible! I thought they were all dead.’
‘They’re still around, alive and well, trust me. They continue to bond only among their own kind just as they had before—all arranged in accordance with bloodlines and astrological favour. Kind of makes you think of breeding thoroughbreds, doesn’t it?’ she chuckled.
‘It does take the romance out of it.’ Rosette wrinkled her nose. ‘Is he married?’
Nell shook her head. ‘A free spirit, that one. Anyway, An’ Lawrence is from the ancient line, just like his mother and father before him.’ Nell muttered under her breath, ‘And demons if he doesn’t know it.’
‘Sounds like you two are well acquainted?’
‘Well enough.’
Rosette folded her arms across her chest. ‘There’s a story there, I can see. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not going primarily for a sword apprenticeship.’ She picked at her scab again. ‘No point.’
‘Are you certain?’
Rosette’s face tightened. ‘I told you. I’m focusing on the bow, spells and stars.’ She closed her book and stacked the charts into a haphazard pile, fussing with her papers when they refused to order. ‘What’s the big push with the sword training, Nell? I’m not all that interested.’
‘You keep saying that. I don’t believe it, though.’
‘Why not?’ Rosette pushed her chair back and stood up, her hands shoved into her pockets.
‘Because you don’t believe it. I see how you look at that practice sword leaning by the door. I watch you transform when you pick it up and spar with Maka’ra or do the forms. I can see into your heart, Rosette, and your heart is with the sword.’
Rosette lowered her eyes. She thought of Nell’s friend, Maka’ra, who sailed across the Emerald Straits once a month from Rahana Iti. He was an island man with dark tattoos on his face and a mean sword arm. He and Nell seemed to have some spells brewing. They were always talking in hushed tones, or disappearing into the woods, but on each visit he would make time to train