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Unpleasant, and quite possibly fatal.
    "And worse for a woman." He glanced at her. "A pretty young lass
like you, with that red hair, would bring a high price in the Barbary slave
markets."
    She laughed and brushed back her windswept hair. She hadn't powdered it or worn a wig since leaving London. Much easier to leave it natural and simply tie it back. The sailors and other passengers had become used to the blazing color by now.
"It's nice to know that red hair is good for something."
    "You'd be purchased for a sultan's harem for sure," he said with a chuckle.
"Rarity value, you know."
    "I shall take that as a compliment." They had reached the bow of the
Mercury,
so she continued,
"I think I'll stay here for a while, if you don't mind. I love the feel of the
wind in my face."
    "We'll make a sailor of you yet, Miss Macrae." Captain Gordon continued on his inspection of the schooner. Jean had enjoyed the captain's company, but now she was ready to be alone. The best thing about this voyage had been long hours with nothing to do but observe the weather. The Macrae family produced the best weather mages in Britain—her brother was merely the latest of a long, distinguished line.
    But controlling the weather was almost exclusively a masculine talent. A Macrae female might have a modest talent for managing the elements, but the great weather mages were always men. It was most unfair.
    Not that Jean had ever been a magical prodigy. Plenty of established mages had told her that she had substantial power, but she'd never learned how to use it fully. Except in really desperate circumstances, which was an alarming and uncertain business.
    As a girl coming into womanhood, she had believed that she would get past her problems and learn to use power as easily as most Guardians did. But that had never happened, and she'd largely stopped trying. In a family of mages, someone needed to be practical, and at Dunrath, that person had been Jean. She'd become a capable estate manager during her brother's years of traveling. After Duncan's marriage, his wife, Gwynne, had encouraged Jean to study magic more deeply, and that had been useful for scrying and small spells. But a great sorceress she'd never be.
    She'd never be a wife, either. She had always sensed that she wouldn't marry a Guardian. She had pledged herself to her childhood sweetheart, Robbie Mackenzie, and had even followed him to war.
    Ah, he'd been a bonnie lad, the only man she'd ever loved. Robbie had been a mundane, and she'd never told him about the Guardians, thinking her own power wasn't great enough for it to matter to their marriage. But he'd died at Culloden, and, despite the best efforts of her family and friends, she'd met no one yet to take his place.
    No matter. She was a good teacher and an excellent shot, and too much a Macrae not to enjoy weather. To her great satisfaction, on this voyage she had discovered that she had a dash of the family magic. She could reach beyond the visible sky to sense distant winds and storms. She had influenced weather patterns a little as well. It was not entirely luck that had granted the
Mercury
such a smooth voyage.
    Closing her eyes, she absorbed the south wind and imagined the dry, mysterious African deserts from whence it came. Strange places with strange names…
    She really should have started traveling sooner.

Chapter

FOUR
    A DIA, W EST A FRICA

1752
    Adia straightened up from hoeing yams, her back aching. Her family grew the best yams in the village, but much work was required.
"I'll be glad when Abeje finishes her initiation and is back here doing her
share!"
    Her mother laughed. "You'll be even more glad when you are initiated yourself, little one, but you must wait a few years for that." She glanced up at the sun.
"Why don't you and Chike play while I feed the baby?"
    The fatigue of hoeing vanished instantly. While her mother took the baby to the side of the field, Adia and Chike began a game of tag among the yam