The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [54]
It had been anything but.
Rosette felt the eyes of her tutor, Mistress Mara, focused on her. She tried not to cringe.
Mistress is livid, and who would blame her?
Mistress Mara seldom lost her patience though she had came close more than once with Rosette. Tonight was promising to be yet another battle for them both—for Rosette to perfect the spell and for Mara to hold her temper. Her instructor was really a gentle soul, placid, intuitive and sensitive. Tonight she was like a storm at sea, looking for a ship to wreck.
Mara didn’t travel at all, not in her physical body, and she never seemed to take a break. She devoted her life to meditation and the teaching of the ritual arts—spells, dream-walking and evocations. Age had barely touched her, though she had to be in her seventies. Born with the sign of the Aurochs rising, the qualities and temperament of the ancient bull infused her with strength, endurance, sensuality and tenacity. As usual, she showed no indication of tiring and they’d been at it since noon.
Rosette closed her eyes and tried not to think of her stomach rumbling.
Of course, Mara had reserves. She was plump, in a voluptuous way, and was not shy about displaying it. She wore robes that showed off her ample bosom, draping herself with large pendants and coloured gemstones. Her grey hair was swirled into a loose mound atop her head, curls escaping about her face. She usually had a just-ravished look, but lines of tension were etched about her mouth and eyes tonight. Her brow was deeply furrowed. Rosette also thought she could see horns sprouting from her forehead.
The candles spluttered, and so did Rosette.
The chamber was cloistered, with the doors and windows closed. There were no chinks or gaps in the stone walls, yet suddenly wisps of Rosette’s hair escaped their braids, tickling her cheeks. At least the Elemental Air had not ignored her. Why would it? That was her ruler, linked to her Sun and Mercury in the sign of the Twins.
‘Pardon, Mistress?’ Rosette answered. She realised that Mistress Mara was still staring at her while she had daydreamed.
‘I asked, young witch, what are you waiting for?’
Rosette brushed the back of her hand across her forehead, sweeping away stray hairs and stifling a yawn. Good question. She wasn’t actually waiting for anything. Procrastinating, seeking distractions, evading, yes. But waiting? No. Not really.
‘Answer the question, please,’ Mara commanded.
‘I was just…just…’ She stopped mid-sentence. It wouldn’t do to lie.
A nighthawk whistled in the distance, shrill and eerie. Rosette resisted the impulse to look in its direction or answer back. What could she see out an opaque window in the moonless black?
‘Rosette!’
‘Just collecting my thoughts is all, Mistress Mara,’ she said in a rush.
‘And are they collected now?’
‘Yes, Mistress.’
‘Then begin,’ Mara said through clenched teeth.
Rosette squared her shoulders. Running her hand across the stones that lay on the table, she picked one up—a smooth black pebble shot with flecks of gold—and dropped it into the chalice in front of her. It rippled silently to the bottom, invisible in the dark water.
Rosette knew she had to get this aspect of her training right before she could move on. Why was it so difficult? It wasn’t like she was changing the course of time, or even the course of a river. It was a simple summons, one she thought she knew quite well. Apparently she did not—not well enough for Mara’s standards anyway.
Rosette inhaled, half closed her eyes and then opened them slowly, while delivering the ritual words, yet again. It must have been the fiftieth time that day she’d woven this spell. Each time, Mara found a flaw, a deviation, or imperfection—too much Air, not enough Fire, where were Gaela and Water? Rosette felt sure that all four Elementals were completely bored with the exercise by now. She certainly was.
The spell didn