Echoes in the Dark (43 page)

Then
they bowed, as a group, and Ella opened the door.

Ten
of the twelve stopped near Raine’s chair, met her eyes, nodded and made
personal apologies, bowed or touched her hand.

“I’m
sorry.” The words echoed in her mind from the timbre of many voices.

Then
they were gone and Ella was at the open door.

“Go
away,” Raine croaked. She was going to fall apart, she knew it, and she didn’t
want Ella to see that. “Please.” Her voice was rough as if she’d Sung all the
choruses, too.

Face
sober, Ella nodded and closed the door quietly.

It
opened the next instant as Faucon stepped in. He came to her and swept her off
the chair, sat himself and held her as she let out awful choking sounds.

Then
she wept.

R
aine had
recovered her spirits and was walking hand-in-hand back to the manor with
Faucon when an awful shrieking pulse split the air.

31

F
aucon tensed
beside her, silence fell over the fairground crowd. Then shouts came as
Chevaliers called for their volarans and took off into the sky.

Faucon
steadied her and himself, grimaced.

A
hefty merchant plucked at his sleeve. “What is it, Hauteur?”

In
the quiet, people turned to Faucon, awaiting his answer. His face hardened.
“It’s a relay alarm from the Marshalls’ Castle, notifying us there’s an
invasion.” Tilting his head, he listened as the siren blasted again. “In the
far northeast.”

People
looked stunned, then glanced around at others. Raine realized that she’d become
accustomed to a siren, Chevaliers and Marshalls flying to battle. War.

It
seemed these folk had never had the circumstances of battle so emphasized
before. Reality check.

Everyone
watched as teams took to the sky, one of them wearing the red and orange of the
man who owned the land they were camped on.

The
quiet stretched and Faucon tugged Raine through the crowd. “There’s an animated
map in the manor library.”

Muttering
arose, the phrase passed through the fair…animated map. Suddenly, it seemed,
the people wanted to know more.

Faucon’s
stride had lengthened until Raine had to hurry to keep up with him, an unusual
discourtesy. His Song had picked up an irritated note and he was muttering to
himself. “What did they think we were doing all these years? This is the north,
by the Song, they should have been more aware.”

Raine
couldn’t answer him, found her throat closing once more as she wished that
she
hadn’t learned what the siren meant. She didn’t want to go to the library and
watch as Chevaliers and Marshalls fought and maybe died. But she didn’t feel
like she had any choice.

And
the pressure on her to raise a ship soon had just increased.

Every
single person here would want that now.

T
he next couple
of days Raine and the Deauvilles discussed and refined the ship’s blueprints.
She’d never worked so hard or long or modified a plan more. But she’d never
built such a massive ship, had to design it for people who’d see it as
revolutionary. And the design and ship had never been so critical.

They’d
set the time for the ship-raising for the next full moon, before the week’s
end, and Raine and Faucon checked on the materials for it every day.

By
the time they’d finished the very last changes to her design, Raine believed
the ship would be exactly what the Exotiques needed for an invasion battleship.
It looked like a galleon, with a lot of space for stores, areas for hammocks
for the crew and the Marshalls and Chevaliers, six tiny cabins for the Exotiques
and their men. There was a quarterdeck for the volarans, and additional space
on the deck for them and observers. It wouldn’t be the fastest or most
wind-efficient ship, but it would serve its purpose.

She
and the shipbuilders pushed back from the study table and the oldest male
Deauville reported the last of the materials had arrived. Raine was impressed
when he said all would be laid out on the beach and sandbars—he glanced at her
here—just before the raising. Only his family, Raine, Faucon, Corbeau and the
three feycoocus would be aligning the materials. Circlets would provide Power
for them to use in moving the huge timbers for masts, the great planks for the
rudder and hull, lesser ones for the decks, the sailcloth and the miles of
rope.

Raine
thanked the man, thanked them all again, then said, “There’s one thing I don’t
understand. You didn’t mention the great Power stones, the hematite. Where will
we get those?”

They
stared at her, then looked away. Madam Lucienne Deauville smiled, then ducked
her head. “Why we will raise them from the deep. Many of the great stones are
found that way. Amee provides.”

Raine’s
turn to stare. “You’re serious?”

They
all nodded. “Ayes,” Madam said.

Raine
rolled her shoulders. “When do we do that?”

The
family shared a glance. “We make the rudder and the hull below the stones, set
the Ship plan out, then raise the spheres.” Lucienne shrugged. “Not a difficult
matter.”

“Ttho?”

“Ttho,”
Madam Lucienne said firmly. “Amee provides.”

Raine
just shook her head.

T
he night before
the raising went well. Raine found laying out the materials for the ship taken
out of her hands as the Deauvilles hustled around her. She “supervised.” The
sea stayed calm, barely lapping over the beach and the sandbars where Raine had
felt the ship should be built, and the family seemed to accept that she’d
chosen well. Madam Lucienne made a humming noise Raine took for approval. The
eldest son held the design plans and watched the pattern form with an eagle
eye, sharply correcting any missed detail.

Finally
it was ready. Except for the stones.

The
ship-raising pentacle had been incised in the proper spot on the beach by the
great Circlet Bossgond himself, and the way he hovered near it, Raine figured
he’d be spending the night to make sure that design wasn’t smudged.

Madam
Lucienne ignored that drawing, gestured for her sons to follow her example and
roll up their rough pants, then slogged out to the area slightly under water
where a section of the hull had already been assembled…by Power. It had snapped
together easily with just a little Song and imagery and Power from Raine.

Lucienne
waved at Raine to come, so she turned up her pants and went on out. The water
was cold but not frigid.

All
this preparation had strung her nerves tight.

Madam
patted her with a heavy hand on Raine’s shoulder. “All’s well.”

“If
you say so.”

“I
do.” A decisive nod. “All is well.” Lucienne rubbed her hands. “Now we call the
stones from the deep.”

She
scanned the beach, gestured to Faucon and Corbeau to join her and her sons and
Raine. The feycoocus were already floating on the water, eyes sharp, waiting
for the ritual to begin. Lucienne pointed at Alexa and Marian, who’d been
watching with curiosity. “You come out here and help!” she shouted.

Alexa
grinned and took off her boots and socks, folded up her jeans. Marian huffed
and sang a little couplet that was snatched away by the wind and her magical
gown shortened. By itself. She walked a couple of steps and her shoes and socks
fell away and she was barefoot.

“Nice
trick,” Madam’s eldest son muttered.

He
was standing next to Raine. For this Song, she was between him and Faucon and
they alternated male, female, even when Jaquar, Marian’s husband, joined them.

Lucienne
hummed the starting chord rustily, and her sons drowned her out.

Then
she Sang, of the sea, the tide, the wind. Boats Powered by stones…

Raine
let the cadence of the ocean take her, closed her eyes and swayed and Sang.
Sang of the tide going out, of settling down, down, down into the sea, where
secrets lay, treasures hidden by Lady Amee to keep them safe. All the riches of
the planet were in these depths.

Rising
once again to the water’s surface, feeling the foam of wind and wave, breathing
the sea air.

“And
done!” Madam shouted.

Her
son and Faucon squeezed Raine’s hands, dropped them and Raine opened her eyes
and staggered back at the sight of four huge shining round hematite stones.

“Ha!”
said Lucienne, trudging back to the shore and her linen socks, sturdy shoes.

“Looks
good,” Faucon said with satisfaction, kissing Raine’s temple. He carefully
placed the directional jewels on each stone, then walked with Raine back to the
beach.

“Huh?
I missed it!”

“It
was a sight to see.” Still grinning, Alexa zoomed her hand up. “Four big pieces
of rock shooting out of the ocean, plopping down on your ship. Incredible.” She
glanced at everyone. “And easy. Hardly took any effort.”

“Amee
provides,” Lucienne said smugly.

“Amazing,”
Marian said. Raine could tell she was already framing her report in her mind.

“A
good bit of sea magic,” one of the shipbuilders said.

“A
good omen that the raising will be a success,” said another.

Raine
hoped so.

A
s was their
habit, the Exotiques and their men had after-dinner drinks in the library. It
had spread throughout the gathering that the group was available for any casual
problem-solving that wouldn’t go on the record, and in a much better mood as a
bunch than if one approached them individually.

They’d
already dealt with a young, stuttering teenaged Scholar—the level below
Circlet—who’d been accepted in Marian’s academy. He’d come from a sea family
and had been sailing and working on his own maps of the northern waters and
passageways for years as a hobby. Did they want to see them?

They
wanted copies. As soon as possible. He left with a sweaty and proudly shining
face.

Then
came a young female Marshall pair, Sword and Shield, fingers entwined. They’d
passed the trials, and were on the invasion force. They’d had second
thoughts—Raine sensed it was the Sword—and wondered if they could be released?

Alexa
heaved a dramatic sigh of relief, hand on her chest, then jumped up and hugged
them both. It seemed she had wanted the Shield to stay and work with the
understudies posing as the Exotiques at the Castle.

The
Shield had a special gift for luring horrors, which was needed to make the
magical barrier strong. Alexa and Bastien sent the women off with their
blessings. Alexa went immediately to her waiting list and used her crystal ball
to call the Castle and the head of the Marshalls there to tell the next pair of
Marshalls to report to Creusse’s Landing at once.

She
shared a troubled glance with her husband as she was told their former squires,
the newest Marshalls, were whooping loudly enough to be heard throughout the
Castle.

Raine
hadn’t questioned anything regarding the trials before, but now she was
weighing the seafolk who’d crew the ship. Hesitantly, she said, “The new
replacements will be as good as those who just left?”

“Better,”
Bastien said, snagging his wife as she paced back and bringing her in to sit on
his lap. “The Sword wasn’t ready, but we can’t dismiss on slight feelings if
the scores were high, and theirs were, individually and as a pair.”

Alexa
grimaced. “Our scoring system was public—as I thought it should be after all
the secrecy of the Marshalls in the past—but it didn’t really allow for hinky
feelings.”

“On
the other hand, that was the Pair I had the most concerns about,” Bastien said
philosophically, kissed his wife briefly, then looked at Raine. “The entire list
of those who qualified were ties, sometimes three or four had the same score.
We could replace the entire complement of Marshalls and Chevaliers on the Ship
three times with those who scored at the top.”

Something
within Raine eased. She wanted the best to go. To protect her friends. To have
a better chance to destroy the Dark.

The
doorharp strummed, and Corbeau’s wife came in after an
“Entre”
from
Faucon. Her eyes were wide and her expression was of suppressed excitement. She
shut the door behind her and said, “There is a contingent of Friends here who
wish to see you. I believe they came from the Singer’s Abbey itself.”

Everyone
focused on her and she straightened to her tall height. “They didn’t tell me
what they wanted, but there’s been snatches of whispered rumor that the Singer
has lost the new Exotique.”

“I
heard that,” Jaquar said.

Bastien
sat up, holding Alexa tight. “Luthan. My brother hasn’t been around lately.”

“Luthan.”
His name came from Raine’s lips at the same time as everyone else’s. This
phenomena didn’t surprise her anymore.