Protector of the Flight (30 page)

Dark
Lance spread his nostrils in greeting. Marrec dismounted, smiling faintly.
That
was like a shout of triumph from her taciturn husband—bondmate. Calli found
herself grinning. When he stepped forward and put his hands on her waist, she
let him lift her from Thunder and whirl her around, feeling giddy with triumph
and love.

He
hugged her, then let her go. “My very good Shield Pairling,” he said, squinting
against the sun and down at her.

“Thanks.”

With
one arm around her waist, he turned to the volarans. Their squires had already
appeared. Marrec nodded at them. “Treat our mounts well.”

The
two bowed to him, then to Calli, with another to the volarans.
We will be
nice to them,
projected Dark Lance.

Since
it was obvious that each squire had a favorite treat for the volarans, Calli
didn’t doubt that.

“Good
going!” Alexa yelled from a few yards away. The volarans parted as she ran
toward Calli, pulling her helmet off and shaking her silver hair out, beaded
with sweat at the roots. “Really excellent,” Alexa puffed. Calli shook her
head. She wasn’t quite used to hearing Americanisms translated into Lladranan.

“You
mastered the Shield spell on the first try. Oh, yeah, you’ll be a good fighting
pair in under a month!”

Calli’s
gut tensed, but she kept her smile steady. Then it became real again as she
said, “And I’ll teach you to be a good flier within that month, too.”

Alexa
narrowed her eyes. “Deal!” She flung her arms around Calli and squeezed her
hard, then turned to Marrec and did the same. His eyes widened in astonishment
and wariness.

Bastien
joined them, looked at Marrec. “Get used to it.”

Thealia
Germaine, Lady Knight of the Marshalls, strode up with Lady Hallard, who
plucked the crystal stars from Thunder and Calli. Lady Hallard said, “We will
be reviewing this morning’s training in the Noble Dining Room in Horseshoe
Hall.”

From
Thealia’s narrowed lips, Calli got the idea that she’d lost the argument.

Marrec
grunted.

Calli
supposed she needed to do this. It wasn’t as if she’d never watched her own
performances time and again to see what she could have done better in a
thirteen-second ride. She’d even seen the last time, seen Spark slip, her own
fall, his fall on her.

She
shook off the memory.

Lady
Hallard swept a gaze over the Landing Field. “Everyone who flew the figures
today, please attend.”

Chevaliers
glanced at each other.

“Not
many of us are accustomed to the Noble Dining Room,” Marrec whispered as he
took Calli’s elbow. “Faucon and Koz, who watched from the ramparts, are coming.
They’re both nobles.”

She
sent a subtle probe through her bond with Marrec and sensed that though he’d
once been a little envious of the two, a little anxious that they’d win her
hand, those emotions were gone.

A
greeting by Marwey pulled her from her thoughts. The young woman looked pleased
with herself. Thinking back, Calli recollected that Marwey had been one of the
fliers doing patterns. Seeva nodded to Calli, then linked arms with Marwey, and
the two began discussing the training session in excruciating detail.

To
Calli’s relief, Lady Hallard kept the review quick. Seeva had progressed
another level in her training. Calli and Marwey had immediately become Shields
to their Sword bondmates, Marrec and Pascal. The patterns had been flown well,
the teamwork between Chevaliers had been good, but she was assigning new
foursomes and sextiles to ensure everyone linked with everyone else. Never knew
who you’d find yourself with in a battle. She dismissed the bunch with that
chilling reminder.

Just
as they were about to leave the dining room a voice asked if the rumors about
Calli being in danger were true. The chamber grew quiet, more, Calli sensed the
question had echoed throughout Horseshoe Hall and everyone waited with held
breath.

“Yes,”
Marrec said roughly. “Calli’s in danger. Someone’s trying to destroy her
Power.” The silence deepened. “Steps are being taken to protect her. And when I
find out who harmed her, I’ll strip ’em and stake them out for the horrors.”

O
ver the next two
weeks, Calli’s days became structured and full…just the way she liked them.
Chevalier training in the morning, then she schooled the horses a little in the
afternoon, then worked with Alexa and others who aspired to flying volarans.

Alexa
was a problem. Actually, she was a pistol. She Sang with strong Power, love of
animals and the command of her own space. This worked with horses, so she only
communicated with them—spoke Equine—in a very limited fashion. Despite her
small size, they instinctively accepted and followed her lead.

This
combination did not work with volarans, who wanted much more communication from
her instead of statements of Power and will.

So
Calli taught Alexa Equine with both horses and volarans. Asking her to open up
was the greatest difficulty. Alex was a fighter, used to keeping her mental and
physical shields up. Only Bastien and Marian had gotten very close to her, and
the Marshalls and some Chevaliers close enough to link in teamwork. Since Calli
had now read Alexa’s and Marian’s stories, she knew Alexa had been caught in
the foster care system. So Alexa’s emotional shields were even higher.

Soon
Alexa worked better with volarans than horses—on all ground games. One
afternoon she flung up her hands at the horses and left the pen. “No wonder
they think I’m stupid! They do most stuff by body language. One strange twitch
on my part and it’s over.”

Calli
had Bastien bring a very old, very gentle volaran from his stables. Like all
the Earth women, Alexa was fascinated with volarans. She
did
have the
longing to fly, but that had been overlaid with her falls from volarans. Calli
and Alexa worked on the ground, then no more than five feet in the air,
mastering listening to volaran Song, the feel of flesh under her, the stroke of
the wings and flow of air around her. Alexa learned, and that filled Calli with
the warmth of accomplishment. She
did
have a gift of training—horses,
and horseback riding, and volaran partnering.

Calli
learned, too. She took classes with Alexa’s fearsome teacher in magic, was
actually taught with Alexa in reading and writing Lladranan.

Calli’s
Power grew and the work she did with magic—training and communicating, refined
until she had a great toolbox of Powerful Songs. The volarans were easy to
understand, the Lladranan people a lot harder.

She,
herself, was protected from “negative influence” by layers of spells—an inner
one she renewed every day, and a bondmate shield that Marrec set in place every
day. She wore a small amulet of herbs and stones, and leathers and chain mail
that had been bespelled by Marshalls and Chevaliers in a special ritual to keep
her safe.

Her
flying leathers weren’t dreeth, like Alexa’s, because only those who killed the
dreeth could cover a great portion of their own skin with the monster they’d
slain.

The
balcony now had a shimmering shield around it, slightly distorting the view and
making Calli feel like a five-year-old. But life was going well. Sex and
intimacy with Marrec was great, and though neither of them had spoken the L
word, Calli thought they were definitely going that way. They’d visited their
home and found it being cleaned and refinished to fit their tastes, and that
was pretty damn cool.

Neither
Marrec nor she were used to servants, and had wanted to be together privately,
so they’d put off hiring people to attend them personally.

The
training she was doing was fulfilling, the flying was close to ecstatic. She
practiced fighting with a grim determination she got from Marrec: learning to
fly on a mock battlefield with realistic illusions of monsters. Shielding him
from renders and soul-suckers in ground battles, protecting him from slayers’
spines. She “killed” the monsters herself.

And
seven times those two weeks her belly tightened as she watched the Marshalls
and Chevaliers fly to battle the horrors, and knew that within the month, she,
too, would be fighting.

Luck.
There was a lot of luck in the rodeo. The luck of the draw—like pulling the
right bucking horse. If a cowboy got one that refused to buck and stood stiff
legged, he was out of luck. If he missed the calf’s head with the rope, he was
out of luck and out of prize money.

If
your horse slipped rounding a barrel and both landed on you, breaking your
pelvis, your luck was pretty bad that night.

There
was only so much that skill, technique, practice and Power could do. If you
were slightly off, the horse/volaran was off, not feeling well or not paying
attention, or too jittery or too calm…

Calli
figured battle would be just the same. Only with worse consequences of bad
luck.

She
always did her best, but in battle she’d be
exceptional;
she wouldn’t
lose Marrec or Thunder. Not and still live.

So
she practiced her fighter training hard. One morning the patterns went quickly
and easily, Calli rarely fluffed these. She noted that Marwey was nearly
perfect, too, and Seeva bobbled once. Perhaps she should offer to work
one-on-one with her….

The
foursome of Marshalls sped toward Marrec, who flew slightly ahead of her,
wavered before her eyes, then became a huge
thing.

Dreeth!
Thunder
screamed, panicked.

With
Power just short of force, she coated his mind with cool thought, banishing
emotion, even though his wings still quivered. She shut her own emotions down,
too. They had nothing to do with a competition—battle.

Stop
thinking, just like she had before a race—use the anticipation, the
apprehension, the edge of fear. Drawing Power from herself and Thunder and the
very air stirred by wings, she snapped a Shield around Marrec as he and Dark
Lance attacked the dreeth in the air.

Fire
shot from the creature’s mouth, battered the egg-shaped force field she’d thrown
around her Pairling and his volaran. She felt the crisping heat, added a layer
of air…Power shaped like a wind off cold mountain snows. Cold, impenetrable.

Thunder
held steady, keeping Dark Lance in sight. Calli drew her sword.

More
dreeths!
shrieked Seeva. White-faced, she and her volaran whirled, sped straight to the
new threat…and were blackened with flame.

They
plummeted.
Illusion!
Calli screamed at them.
No dreeths so close to
the Castle.
They didn’t listen.

Keeping
one eye on Marrec, she
reached
for the dropping volaran’s mind. In one
of her free hours, she’d flown with him.
Your wings are whole and strong.
Feel
the wind lift your feathers.
She beat back panic, sent him courage,
as well as to Dark Lance.

Dark
Lance’s ears flicked, but he and Marrec shot to the underbelly of their dreeth,
ripped it open, intestines spurted.

Above
us!
cried Thunder, dropping ten feet. Instinctively, Calli swung her sword. Too low
to get the belly, but she cut off both deadly back feet. Green ichor gushed
over her. Her own Shield deflected it.

Her
dreeth screamed, banked. Marrec slashed both eyes. It fell and died.

Mind
spinning, heart beating so it might burst through her chest, Calli glanced
around. No more dreeths. She thought there had been four. Now she saw only three
foursomes of Marshalls, and Alexa and Bastien on a stallion.

God.

Return
to the Castle,
Marrec said. He and Dark Lance joined her and Thunder.
Calm Thunder,
he
sent to her.

Calli
deliberately relaxed her body, sent a soothing energy flow around Thunder,
showed him through her eyes and his own that there were no enemies anywhere.
She breathed deeply, gave him the scents of summer flying, the warmth of the
sun not shadowed by any monsters.

His
muscles loosened under hers. His mind went from flight to acceptance of
communication. His sides shuddered out a huge breath.
We did well.

Yes,
said Dark
Lance.
Though those were not
real
dreeths, you did well. You have a
good flier.

Dark
Lance,
Marrec chided. His volaran put on a burst of speed, leaving them behind,
ignoring the rebuke. Calli’s lips curved. She glanced around for Seeva and her
volaran and saw them on the ground, some distance from the Castle. Then the
walls were under Thunder.

They
landed. Thunder’s hooves clipped the ground and he stumbled, Calli fell
forward. They both righted themselves. Tucking his wings close to his barrel,
Thunder galloped once around the Landing Field. He slowed and stopped beside
Marrec and Dark Lance.

Calli’s
smile turned ironic. “We’re still a little shaky.”

Marrec
reached out and slid a hand down her back. “Well done.”