The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [59]
‘Hello?’ She turned a complete circle, listening. Maybe Clay had come back to surprise her.
‘Who’s there?’ She smiled, guessing it must be him. ‘I didn’t think you’d leave without seeing me, Cassarillo. Where are you hiding?’
‘I thought we instructed initiates to be mindful of their environment.’
The voice was male, mature. Not Clay’s.
Rosette’s mind raced. She knew that voice, though she hadn’t heard it directed towards her since the day she arrived. There was no mistaking the tone and accent. It was the Sword Master.
‘Excuse me?’ She tried not to squeak.
‘I said,’ he articulated slowly, ‘what pressing matters occupy your mind that you’re unable to sense my presence?’
‘What pressing matters?’ Rosette quickly found a rocky outcropping and sat down, water up to her collar-bones. She flushed. How do I answer that?
She couldn’t lie, had no inclination to. She didn’t want to spill out a stream of dribble either. That kind of response would never get her an apprenticeship with the man. And now she’d hesitated for so long, he certainly would think she had something quite involved to say.
She didn’t. Only the small things, the day-to-day things, had been bubbling in her thoughts: like, should she braid her hair for the new training tomorrow, or leave it out? Mara hadn’t even hinted at what kind of training it would be. Of course, she was also thinking more profoundly too. What was Clay hiding? Did it have anything to do with the murder of her family?
Stop! she chastised herself. Reinforcing her mind-shield, Rosette slipped her bottom off the marble seat and submerged her entire head under water.
Quick. Think of something!
Under the surface, Rosette heard the rush and reverberation of the waterfalls further downstream where the pools drained into the Terse River and eventually made their way to the sea. The tinkling of her earrings echoed in the current like a child’s laughter. Her chest tightened. She couldn’t hold her breath forever. She had to breathe.
Popping back up, she gasped, looking around. Where was he?
‘Are you going to answer me?’ he queried. ‘Or turn into a fish?’
Rosette twisted in the direction of his voice, her forehead creasing. ‘I didn’t imagine anyone would be here this late,’ she said, letting her breath out in a rush and gulping in another.
‘Perhaps,’ he said, creating ripples as he shifted on his perch, ‘you need to develop your imagination.’
She could make out his silhouette now. He was leaning back against the side of the pool, one arm reaching out along its edge, the other behind his head like a pillow.
‘And perhaps it would have been more courteous if you had announced your presence straight up.’ Her voice gained volume. ‘This is a place of leisure, Sword Master. I come here to unwind, not to test my receptivity skills.’
‘There’s no separation between the work and the life.’ His voice sounded stern. ‘You’ve also been cautioned against bathing alone.’
‘Well, I’m not alone now, am I?’ She snapped the words back, glaring in his direction.
He laughed. ‘Have we met?’
Goddess of the night, he doesn’t even remember me?
Now she was certain she wasn’t under consideration for his apprenticeship. She bit her lip. Under no circumstances would she cry. Bother this man and his deprived memory!
‘Yes,’ she replied slowly. ‘We met the day I arrived. You and Diablai gave me a lift to the demonstration, do you remember? It wasn’t long ago, Sword Master Rowan An’ Lawrence.’
‘You’re right, Rosette. It wasn’t that long ago.’ He moved into the light. ‘How’s the training going?’
What’s he playing at? Does he know me or not? ‘I’m progressing.’
‘Are you ready for something new?’
‘Say again?’
‘Do you have a hearing problem?’
‘What?’
Perhaps you can hear me more clearly now?
He sent the thought