Protector of the Flight

by Robin D. Owens

  As she drew near, anger and resolve burned within her. This monster had wanted to kill—Marrec, herself, anyone it could. That was the sole purpose of its life.

  And its appearance matched its intention. It was ugly.

  “Good,” Jaquar said, “you’re here.” He gestured to the dreeth and green lines glowed on it. “I’ve designated the cuts for maximum skin.”

  Calli swallowed. “You want anything?”

  “Teeth and claws are always good for spells,” Marian said.

  “Eyes—” Jaquar started.

  Both women shuddered.

  “My apologies.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t think we need eyes today.”

  Calli didn’t even want to know what eyes might be useful for. She watched as Marrec took out a huge knife, set the point into the shoulder and drew it down. To her amazement, the skin cut easily, magically. More Power. Huh.

  “A bespelled blade,” Marian murmured.

  Nodding, Marrec made short work of the butchering. Bracing herself, Calli unsheathed the knife Marrec had put on the Bonding Table and touched one to a tooth. Only a tap had them falling into her hand.

  “Well done,” Marrec said, folding the nearly bloodless—ichorless—skin and tucking it under his arm. He eyed the dreeth. “There’s enough skin for leathers for you, a tunic for me and the rest can be sold as outer covering for hats.”

  “Hats?” asked Jaquar.

  Marrec spared him a glance. “Dreeth hats are all the rage in the city-states. Carried, mostly, not worn.” He lifted a shoulder. “To impress others.”

  “Conspicuous consumption,” Marian said.

  “I guess,” Calli said. “It will pay the bills.”

  “For sure.” Marian’s smile gleamed. “You’ll have plenty for that house of yours, and your new baby, Mama.”

  Warmth bloomed in Calli’s heart, suffusing her, making her blush. Both men watched. She sniffed. “Thank you.”

  A shout came from the other end of the battlefield. Marwey hopped up and down, waving her arms.

  Salutations, Calli, sent Thunder.

  Having him here, too, was comforting. Hello, Thunder.

  I have brought a carry sacque for The Daughter.

  There was a loud snort, mental and physical, from Dark Lance. I will carry The Daughter. She doesn’t like Calli.

  “Thanks a lot,” Calli muttered, the warmth of motherhood leaving her for harsh reality. Marrec’s arm came around her waist as they walked with Jaquar and Marian to the manor house.

  Once there, Calli checked Dark Lance’s wound and energy level, while Marrec trotted into the house to collect the baby. Calli was standing outside the stables with the saddled and bridled volarans when Thealia strode up. The Swordmarshall’s eyes flashed with a mixture of emotions. “What has gotten into you that you are adopting a young child after only a night with her?”

  Calli had known Thealia could be blunt, but hadn’t been on the receiving end before. She sent the woman a cool glance. “I have a husband. We want children. You fought when your children were young, didn’t you?”

  “The circumstances were not the same. There were occasional small incursions of the horrors. That was all.” Her mouth folded into pinched lines.

  “It’s too bad that you Marshalls didn’t prevent the current conditions,” Calli said. “But that’s past and Marrec and I deserve to shape the life we want, just as you and your bondmate did when you were young.”

  Marian, standing tall next to Calli, said, “Everyone knew that Calli and Marrec were going to adopt children.”

  “They should not adopt such a child, not when Calli’s first duty lies with defending Lladrana.”

  “Who else will take the little girl?” demanded Calli.

  Thealia’s face set. “I will find someone.”

  “No, you won’t,” said Marrec, holding the clean toddler dressed in a linen shift and dark brown romper with buttons on a padded behind. At least the baby clothes looked like something Calli could handle.

  “I don’t want you distracted! We can’t afford to lose you,” Thealia said.

  “Thealia,” Jaquar said. “Look at the three of them. The child is bonding with Marrec as we speak.”

  Everyone fell silent, listening as Calli was, to the little girl’s Song, harmonically weaving with Marrec’s. Even last night the child’s personal melody hadn’t been like this—today it was stronger, more Powerful, as if being with Marrec, hearing him, taught her…something. Whatever fathers taught children, Calli thought, then winced inwardly as that led to her own father’s lack of emotional support for her.

  Every couple of bars, the child’s Song included notes of Calli and Marrec’s PairSong, and a little bit later, spiraled out to pick up a beat of Calli’s own tune.

  Thealia sighed. “You’re right. But I am not pleased.” She turned on her heel and went to the end of the stables where her husband and their flying steeds awaited.

  “I think we should stay at the Castle for a while,” Jaquar mused. He smiled at Calli. “Calli can teach us to properly partner with a volaran…more zhiv for her coffers.” He nodded to Marrec. “Better formally bond with the little one as soon as possible.”

  Marrec inclined his torso, his large hand spread across the infant’s back since she lay against his chest. “The ceremony will be this afternoon in the Temple. Luthan Vauxveau, as representative of the Singer and Song, will officiate.”

  Marian hummed approval. “That will be interesting to watch.”

  Calli glanced over to her. “Something new for you, too?”

  “Oh, something new every day.” She grinned.

  “I was afraid of that.”

  That afternoon, after a ritual cleansing in the shower, Marrec carried the little girl to the Temple for the Bonding ceremony. Calli’s heart pounded in anticipation as they walked slowly through the courtyards. She held hands with Marrec, and the infant turned her head away from Calli. People lingered to watch them, this new event having caused as much gossip as anything else that had happened since Calli had arrived.

  Both she, Marrec and the toddler wore black robes edged with silver. From the Song that Sang between her and Marrec, she knew he was pleased and excited, too, though he was expressionless.

  Luthan Vauxveau, Bastien’s brother and the representative of the Singer, was already in the Temple. The ceremony would give the little girl a name and bloodbind the child to them in a simple manner. They’d all contribute a couple of drops of blood to a potion, then all would drink. Calli understood that this was the best way to bond with a baby.

  Their squires opened the door for them and they entered the dim coolness of the Temple, redolent with incense rising from censers—an oddly fresh scent that seemed like new clover, fresh-mown grass and a mountain breeze. The little girl took her thumb from her mouth and raised her head, sniffing. Then she craned to look at the large space and smiled. She leaned back in Marrec’s arms to clap her hands…and hum.

  Everyone stared at her as her small voice matched one of the background tones of Power stored in the rafter crystals.

  Luthan stood by an altar in the center of a shining golden star, and the rest of Calli’s friends waited just outside a circle of the same color. He nodded to a wooden screen partitioning a portion of the room. “You may disrobe over there.”

  Calli tensed, she hadn’t realized that this was going to be a nude ritual. She glanced at Marrec, but he only raised an eyebrow. But she was all too aware that this very first instruction tested her desire to adopt the baby. Marrec set the child on a padded leather table and she promptly stuck her thumb back in her mouth and watched as they undressed. Calli folded their good robes as Marrec freed the baby from her diaper and dress. Once again he lifted her and held out a hand for Calli. She linked fingers with him and breathed deeply. He looked aside from her, the trickle of his personal Song suppressed, his face stern.

  “Marrec?” she whispered.

  I do not want to display any…desire
…for you.

  Well, something about nudity they finally agreed upon, though the coolness of the Temple had already tightened her nipples. The first thing that sprang to Calli’s mind was the simple “I love you.” But she didn’t know how he’d react and this was so not the time or place to say that. She scrambled for the phrase that had become the basic resonance between them. “We will do this together.”

  His gaze softened, then his mouth firmed and he jerked a nod, squeezed her hand and they left the privacy behind the screen with measured, matching steps.

  Luthan beckoned them to enter the pentagram along one point of the star and they did. To Calli, their footfalls accompanied their bond Song.

  “Place the baby on the altar,” Luthan said. His voice boomed through the Temple, magically amplified.

  Marrec had to pry the little girl’s arms from around his neck, but soothed her…and Calli saw how he slid his mind against hers. Once on the altar the infant hunched into herself, watching everything with wide eyes, hands curled in front of her mouth. She’d stopped singing and that was a real pity.

  “What are your intentions toward this child?” Luthan asked.

  “To adopt this baby and make her part of our family,” Marrec said.

  Luthan turned to Calli. “You agree?”

  “Yes.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You are both fighting Chevaliers.”

  Marrec nodded. Calli thought everyone needed more explanations. “I am the Volaran Chevalier, and I will finish whatever the specific task I have been Summoned for, but I consider my true goals in life to be teaching volaran partnering to volarans and people.” She inhaled, continued firmly, “My personal goals have always been to have a husband and family.” She licked her lips. “The Song would not have Summoned me here if my priorities weren’t…um…acceptable to…it.”

  A huge volaran Song comprising of all the winged horses in the Castle swept the room. She is the Volaran Exotique. She is the Protector of the Flight. She will teach all what it means to fly with us.

  Luthan’s well-formed lips lifted in a slight smile. “The Singer agrees and has blessed this adoption.”

  Calli shifted from foot to foot. That was quick. The Singer lived far to the south in an abbey. Had she sent instructions or was this an instance of one of her prophecies being fulfilled?

  “Very well.” Luthan sent a glance around the circle. Then held the naked baby high, spotlighted by a shaft of bright sunlight. She tensed, then eased, lifted her face to the sunshine, waved her hands and kicked, gurgling. “I charge everyone in the circle to examine this child. If anyone knows her and objects to her adoption by Callista and Marrec Gardpont, may they speak now or be denied forever!”

  Stomach clenched, Calli kept sweeping her gaze around the group. She saw Bastien flinch, surprise come to his eyes, frown—and she knew he was in contact with someone. Then his expression hardened. He cleared his throat.

  Luthan, his brother, stared at him.

  Bastien said, “I have had…have touched the mind of the woman who birthed the child. She has no objection. Now or ever.” His face turned grim.

  Alexa scowled at him.

  Luthan stiffened, cocked his head, as if he, too, listened to someone. “The sire of this child gives her up. Now and ever after.”

  A murmur went around the group. Calli mostly sensed anger in the room, especially now the bright light showed the bruises on the infant—little dark ones from pinching fingers, the fading one on her cheek. But other emotions were resignation and sheer haughtiness. She didn’t know who radiated the last and felt spellbound in the ritual, so she couldn’t search.

  “It’s done,” Luthan said harshly. “The previous ties to the child are cut.”

  Now the baby was struggling, whimpering, stretching her arms out to Marrec. Calli’s heart squeezed. In the quick, efficient actions of a prime warrior, Luthan nicked a vein in the little girl’s arm and let a couple of droplets of blood fall into a silver goblet. Then he kissed the arm and she squealed surprise. The wound was healed…all her bruises healed.

  “Nice,” Calli heard Marian mutter. “Must be the ritual…”

  Calli swallowed and stepped forward with Marrec, holding out her right wrist over the edge of the altar as he held out his left.

  With equal swiftness and barely any pain, Luthan had three drops of her blood mixed into the liquid in the cup. Marrec dripped two.

  Rustling came and she saw everyone link hands. A low hum, almost below her hearing, filled the room, reverberated.

  Two big red birds flew through the small dome at the top of the Temple and alighted on the altar. They took turns stirring the potion with their beaks. Calli blinked, but the golden sparkles rising from the cup remained.

  A wet beak touched her arm—Tuckerinal—and healed the small cut. Sinafinal had done the same for Marrec. The birds flew from the altar to sit on Marian’s and Alexa’s shoulders.

  Luthan handed the brew to Marrec. “Drink, three swallows.”

  Nodding, Marrec did.

  Calli felt bubbles slide through him, making him light-headed. His Song reached for hers, she let it settle into her. They weren’t quite as close as they’d been when their blood had run in each other’s veins, but she welcomed the feeling, and him.

  “Pass the cup to Callista,” Luthan said.

  Calli took the goblet from Marrec. Her fingers brushed his, they were warm and steady. She smiled at him and he smiled back.

  “Three swallows,” said Luthan.

  She tipped the cool silver cup against her mouth, swallowed. Not a mimosa this time, more like effervescent mint water. When she was done, she gave the goblet back to Luthan. Pure joy spread throughout her. She grinned at Marrec, reached for him as he slid his arm around her waist. They stood together. She didn’t think she’d ever felt Marrec so happy.

  Luthan had set the baby down and she sat, black hair ruffled in all directions, holding her feet, watching…and listening. Slowly Luthan put the cup against her lips. She opened her mouth. He angled the cup. Her mouth formed a little “o,” her tongue came out, she smiled and opened wide. Her hands went around Luthan’s and she sipped once.

  Marrec trembled, Calli, feeling dizzier, held on tighter to him. The baby’s Song—mostly cheerful but with a lower tone of darkness—rippled through her, through them.

  With blurred vision, she saw the little girl rock onto her back, wriggle around until she was sideways and stared at them with big serious eyes. She sucked on her fist.

  Luthan propped her up in his arm, brought the cup to her mouth again. She made a face, but opened her lips. He poured a small amount into her mouth. She hummed. Grinned.

  Love swirled from Calli to Marrec, to the child. Love. Yearning. Determination to nurture, to protect.

  Marrec matched, exceeded, every emotion.

  The little girl slithered out of Luthan’s grasp, rolled onto her hands and knees, headed for them. Luthan caught her as she fell. Marrec and Calli jumped closer.

  “One more time,” Luthan said, putting the cup against the toddler’s mouth.

  She slurped loudly.

  Marrec and Calli laughed. The Songs, the auras, of all three of them flared, merged.

  The child sat, held out her arms.

  They swooped on her together. Marrec held her to his chest with one arm, Calli sandwiched her between them.

  “It is done,” Luthan intoned. “The child is of the mind and heart and soul of Marrec and Callista Gardpont.”

  Music rose to the top of the room, a Song that Calli had never heard before but that spoke of love and belonging and spoke of the secrets of her heart.

  Marrec kissed the top of the baby’s head, pressed a kiss on Calli’s lips. “We’ll call her Diaminta,” he said. “It was my grandmother’s name. It means ‘bright finch.’ And we will teach her to Sing.” His voice was husky, unsteady.

  Calli twined her fingers with his. “We already are.”

  Calli immediately added a clas
s in Lladranan child care, and began learning teaching Songs. Her voice was good but thin and she’d never trained it before. She and Marrec were always there in the morning to supervise the new nanny as she dressed Diaminta, and they took their breakfast together as a small family. It was the best part of the day for Calli. She spent an hour a day in the afternoon—between training her horses and giving classes on volaran partnership—sitting in the room while Marrec played with Diaminta. And every day he withdrew to sit behind Calli as she rolled a ball to Diaminta. Most of the time the little girl ignored her, and Calli would be forced to Sing the ball back into her hands, and roll it again. But the intimate Song weaving between them, making them into a family, strengthened.

  She cherished every moment that went without an alarm—a full six days—before the Klaxon sounded again, jolting fear into her, destroying her peace in an instant.

  25

  The sun was setting as they banished the orbs of Distance Magic. Calli hoped this would be quick. She wasn’t nearly as good in night battles. At least in practice.

  Marrec smiled reassuringly and unsheathed his sword. They descended through a wisp of icy cloud, weapons raised, ready to fight, Marrec in the lead with Alexa and Thealia, followed by another wave of Chevaliers, Calli and the other Shields dropping back. Then Marrec jerked straight, wavered in the saddle. Calli had already flung a Shield around him, couldn’t understand what was going wrong—she linked with him and felt his every nerve ending fire with pain. What was happening? She swept a glance around, saw nothing threatening him. He pulled up. Dark Lance whinnied with fear. Marrec saw nothing, his emotions were in a turmoil. Nausea engulfed him and he leaned over to vomit.

  Others dodged his spray and cursed him.

  He slumped over Dark Lance, who faltered in flight, tipping from one side to another.

  Swish! A slayer’s spine missed Calli by inches. She strengthened her own Shield, found herself flying low into the middle of battle, a render leaping high at her with gleaming razor claws.

  Thunder tucked up his legs, shot up and away in the nick of time. Calli kept his emotions cool, his mind steady, free of panic. Then she met Dark Lance’s fearful Song with her own, drew him away from panic, from terror of monsters killing him. She merged with Marrec and felt his fright, his horror, his despair, cycling, cycling. Thunder’s body rippled beneath her. She snapped her mind away, pulled her emotions from him. Kept control of her own feelings, and Thunder’s.