Protector of the Flight (58 page)

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Authors: Robin D. Owens

BOOK: Protector of the Flight
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She
gave him a watery smile and took it. The silence of the cool day was
impressive. No cars, only the clopping of the horses’ unshod hooves on the dirt
of Bert’s drive. Even the sounds of his place had faded since they’d made the
first turn around a stand of evergreens.

Calli
looked at Marrec and her heart simply turned over. His eyes were serious, and
shadowed, and soft.

“I
love you,” he said, then, “J’adora,” in Lladranan.

Her
throat clogged. She glanced down at her white scarf, sniffed, nodded. “J’adora.
I love you.”

The
day winked out. Colorado was gone—green and gray.

Gray
fog enveloped them, whistling winds. Their entwined fingers grabbed tighter.

The
Snap!
Marrec said.

Snap?
Calli was
beyond confused.

My
Snap!
he shouted with joy.
I never thought it could happen.

She
hadn’t, either.

The
horses screamed. Marrec’s and Calli’s minds meshed as they worked to calm them.
The mist parted to show the portal across from them closing.

42

C
alli bit her lip
to prevent her own scream, angled downstream. The winds settled into a definite
current.

Marrec
jerked his chin at a wide portal, afternoon sunlight pouring into the corridor.

“Ayes!”
Calli shouted, yelled again. The Lladranan “yes.” “Ayes!”

Then
they were through the door and on a road.

Calli
blinked at the bright sunshine, the heavy scent of worked fields around her.

Marrec
whooped with joy, pointed off to the right where intricate and fancy buildings
shone white in the sun.

“The
Singer’s Abbey,” he said.

“Oh,
my God,” Calli said in English, then switched gears and forced her voice
through a throat thick as realization spread through her. They were back! “By
the Song.”

“Well,”
Alexa said, looking startled, baton out and ready, standing in a copse by the
side of the road. Then she sagged against the tree at her back, shook her head
hard and shut her eyes. Popped her eyelids up again and stared more. Her breath
whooshed out as she looked past them at the horses. She gulped, cleared her
throat, and her voice was cleared when she said, “I guess you guys are the only
ones to ever bring a string of horses to Lladrana.” She spoke Lladranan.

Tears
trickled down Calli’s cheeks.

Marrec
stroked her palm with his thumb, dropped her hand. “How are our children?”

Alexa
straightened to her full height. “Good enough. They’re up at the Abbey. I guess
now I know why the Singer had Luthan kidnap them.”

“Kidnapped!”
Calli exclaimed.

“That’s
right,” Alexa snorted. “Took them right from under Jaquar’s and Marian’s
and
Bossgond’s noses.”

“Come
help us with these horses. We need to secure them, then we’ll talk to the
Singer.” Marrec’s tone was sharp as steel.

Alexa
heaved a breath. “I don’t like that woman, but after I help you, I’ll go and tell
her you’re here. For formality’s sake. She probably already knows. I’ll wait
for you there.” Alexa walked slowly to them. “There’re stables up ahead, and
separate paddocks for horses and volarans.” A few feet away, she stopped,
tilted her head. “Those horses obviously came from Earth, but they
look…different…than what I’m used to seeing. More like an antique strain or
something.”

“They’re
Lipizzaners.”

For
an instant, Alexa’s mouth hung open. “Wow,” she breathed. “The ones trained for
war. The kind that can do those fabulous jumps.”

“That’s
right.” Sometimes Alexa surprised Calli with her knowledge. She’d expect Marian
to know about Lipizzaners, but not Alexa.

“Wow.”
The small woman stared at them. “They start out brown and turn white, don’t
they?”

“Gray.”

“All
right.” She stepped forward, Calli could hear her wrangle her mind into
Equine-speak.
Beautiful.
“Can I have one?”

“You’ll
have to ask Marrec.”

Marrec
shrugged.

Alexa
grinned. “I’ll have Bastien do the dealing. Wait ’til he gets a load of these!”
She rubbed her hands. “He’ll go wild with greed.” She tilted her head and her
eyes widened, squeezed shut, then opened again as she flushed. “By the Song, I
didn’t even notice your scarf-thingie—just saw you and Marrec and those
horses.” She stopped, tried to look casual. “Nice robe.”

Beaming,
Calli said, “We got married this morning.” Sort of. Memory prodded her and her
smiled turned to frown. “By Bert. The Honorable Trenton Philbert the Third.”

“Congratulations.”
Alexa stepped forward and stood on tiptoe to kiss Marrec, then hugged and
kissed Calli. When done, she said, “Judge Philbert, I know him slightly.” She
frowned, too. “Didn’t Marian meet him and his wife at some party or other?”

“Yes!
That’s what I was trying to remember.”

At
that moment a Powerful Song hit Calli. Marrec stumbled back.

I
am the Singer and I await you. Come,
An old woman’s mental tone ordered.

Alexa
shook her head as if righting herself after the command. Her lips pressed
together, then she said, “I’ll go prepare the stable hands for you, then head
on to the Singer. You take the time you need.” She jogged off.

“We’re
back,” Calli whispered, looking at Marrec.

“Ayes.
We’re home.” He rolled the words as if savoring them.

She
swallowed tears, glanced up at the Abbey. “Not quite. Have you ever
had—whatchamacallit—a Song Quest? That’s why most Chevaliers and Marshalls go
to the Abbey, right?”

He
sent her a laconic look. “Never could afford one.” His shoulders rolled. “Don’t
think I’d want one anyway.”

“I
don’t either. Alexa—”

“Marshalls
must
submit to a Song Quest. Part of the deal. With luck, we won’t have
to talk to the Singer.”

Calli
stared at him. She didn’t believe that for an instant.

A
corner of Marrec’s mouth lifted. “You’re right. Not much chance of escaping an
interview.” He turned in his saddle, frowning as he considered their strings of
horses. “What say you to trying a little experiment?”

“Such
as?”

He
dropped the lead. “I bet we could ride up to the Abbey without any lines on the
horses and these fabulous beasts would follow.”

She
relaxed in her seat, closed her eyes, tested the minds of the horses. “I think
you’re right.”

“It
would be an impressive sight.”

“May
give us some maneuvering room…in our own lives.”

“Maybe.”

As
they reached the volaran area, a black-winged steed lifted, flew toward them,
then landed a yard in front of them.

“Dark
Lance!” Marrec choked. He sprang off his mount, ran to the volaran, threw his
arms around the stallion’s neck and leaned against his companion.

Calli
heard the joyful mingling of thoughts and Songs from where she stood. She
waited until the first rush of emotion had decreased to a strong tune between
them before clearing her throat. Marrec stepped back, his face flushed more
than she’d ever seen, blinking fast.

Dark
Lance whinnied at her.
I stayed with the children,
he said, full of
pride.
That Thunder, he been all over everywhere.

Wisely,
Calli kept her mouth shut, watched Dark Lance’s eyes widen when he saw the
horses, which were about his own size. He took to the air in instinctive, pleased
surprise, circled over the wingless ones.
These! These are why you went to
Exotique Terre. To bring back more mates for us. Breed larger.
His mind
brushed hers, then the horses’.
Smarter than the horses here. They will
enrich our lines.
He flew over to the rest of the volarans, chattering
excitedly in Equine.

Marrec
joined her and they organized the horses once more, with soft touches on their
minds.

The
stable workers’ mouths dropped in awe as Calli and Marrec led the horses into a
large, empty corral without any lines or reins. “Be careful of the tack,
especially the saddles,” he said.

A
woman bowed low. “It will be done, my lord.”

Again
Calli sensed relief from Marrec. He was back where he belonged, where he knew
his place and the rules.

At
that moment there was a great, trumpeting cry from the air.
Our Exotique has
returned,
screamed Bastien’s stallion, Sunray. Immediately the winged
steeds flew from their arena to light near Calli, pushing at her and Marrec.

He
opened his arms wide and threw back his head and laughed, deep and full, and it
was the best sound Calli had heard in weeks.

Her
whole body was stroked by volarans brushing by her, nuzzling her head,
thrusting their muzzles at her to be caressed.

Then
a frightened whinny came. Checking mentally, Calli discovered that the horses
had bunched together at the far side of the paddock, stallions out, on the
verge of panic. She pushed through the volarans and clapped her hands, making
it echo.

Apologize
to the horses for scaring them,
she ordered Sunray, the volaran with
the most status.

He
snorted.

I
mean it. Apologize or I won’t ride you for a long time.

Glancing
at her, he said slyly,
What is a long time? A day?

Bad
choice of words. The volarans didn’t experience, nor count, time, as people
did.
For a whole season.

His
nostrils flared. He stamped a hoof, then he glanced over to the horses.

She’d
never seen a volaran do a double take. His neck came up, his eyes brightened,
ears perked.
Beautiful Exotique mares.

“Ayes,”
she said.

Large
beautiful Exotique mares.
He trotted over.

It
was fascinating to watch a volaran communicate in Equine with Earth horses.
Luckily, neither of the herds considered the others mutants, and, of course,
just like Lladranan horses, the Earth animals were charmed by their incredible
cousins. The Lipizzaner stallions were disposed to guard their females…until a
young volaran mare trotted up to them, fluttering a wingtip.

Someone
cleared his throat. A group of six Singer’s Friends stood just outside the
fence, observing, all dressed in different-colored robes from midnight blue to
pale yellow.

Calli
knew the Singer was the oracle and prophetess of Lladrana, like a high
priestess. The Friends were nuns or monks or priests or priestesses or
something.

Marrec
tore his gaze away from the volarans and horses. He strolled to Calli and took
her hand, then they both walked from the corral. The stable hands hardly
noticed them leave, still engrossed in the horse-volaran meeting.

“Salutations,
Chevalier Marrec and Exotique Chevalier Callista.”
The man in pale
yellow bowed.

“Salutations,”
they replied in unison. Marrec squeezed her fingers.

“The
Singer awaits you.”

Raising
his brows, Marrec said, “Already?”

The
man gave a discreet cough. “The Singer anticipated your arrival.”

Though
Marrec appeared expressionless, subtle tension ran through his muscles. He took
a while to consider that, then said, “We aren’t prepared for Song Quests.”

“There
will be no Song Quests. Merely an interview.”

A
woman in a purple robe frowned, and Calli blinked at the disconcerting thought
that the horse-volaran meeting was being replayed here with people. A
Friends-Chevaliers meet. Or a Friends-Exotiques meet. She definitely considered
her husband and herself of higher status…and Lladranans
did
put great
emphasis on status.

“Very
well.” Marrec scowled at the white buildings that covered the low hill. “In
which one does the Singer await us? And how do we get there?”

The
Friend inclined his torso, his expression smug. “Just let your feet and your
heart guide you.”

Calli
didn’t like his tone. She adjusted her white wedding-scarf robe, let her
fingers linger on the soft cloth, the glass beads, then grasped Marrec’s hand.
Since they’d returned, Power had gathered around her, suffused her, as if Amee
itself had wrapped her in a thick down comforter. She stared at the man until
he met her eyes. This Singer who scared Alexa wasn’t the only one with Power.
Calli was a Paired Exotique who’d traveled through two Snaps, both herself and
her husband fulfilling tasks for Lladrana and Amee. “We’ll follow the Song,
won’t we, Marrec?”

Pulling
the most intricate strain toward her like a thread, she let it touch her mind.
She sent one to Marrec, who let it twine around his shoulder, then she wrapped
the Song around the pompous man and smiled. She and Marrec strolled in the
lovely Lladranan sunlight toward the spires and towers of the Abbey. Back home
and together. Nothing could subdue her quiet joy.

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