Protector of the Flight

by Robin D. Owens

  A miasma of danger enveloped them.

  Her breath came short and ragged, matching the irregular rhythm of Thunder’s wingbeats. They both shivered. She’d have liked to pretend it was simply the result of the thin, cold northern air, but it was more.

  Panic was not allowed, especially in a volaran flier responsible for her mount. Hadn’t she taught that every day?

  So she sucked in a large breath, aware of the ice crystals, the chill penetrating her lungs. She reached for Thunder’s innermost mind, and merged, past thought and feeling, until there was an incredible brightness in her own mind. Living in the moment, living in the very stream of the Song.

  She felt as light and as thin as a cloud, and so did Thunder. They’d reached the edge of the mountain now and Calli glanced down.

  And saw nothing of herself or Thunder.

  They were transparent! Invisible. A cry escaped her and she saw the lines of her legs, of Thunder’s barrel forming, taking on color. No!

  Another slow, deep inhalation, a lightening of her mind and spirit, a casting off of all worry and keeping Thunder with her, doing the same.

  They were a wisp of cloud, a feather floating on the air. They were unseen, and it was so.

  Awe whirled inside her. What a wonderful talent you have.

  Slowly words formed in Thunder’s mind, as if solidifying through the bright Song and drifting down. I do not know this talent.

  But you have it.

  Then you have shown me what I did not know, and now teach me how to master it.

  And you can teach all the other volarans.

  Yes. You have demonstrated how we can protect ourselves. I will tell the alphas, they will consider it.

  Ayes, now let’s do our duty.

  They spent a long hour spiraling around the peak, from the bottom up, Calli memorizing the landscape, marking the fissures and lava domes, hoping the many-faceted crystal stars were transmitting. There was no harbor to speak of, nothing that would hold a fleet, but cliffs on the north. Any landing on the base of the island would be immediately noticed—visually, if by no other sense.

  She saw no level place large enough to hold more than a couple of volarans, and no obvious entrance to the nest.

  They passed over the caldera and reached the round, open vent. Calli looked down at bubbling molten rock, orange and red and awesome. No opening there. Other ethereal planes might indicate a maw, but not here before physical eyes.

  As terror nibbled on the edges of her consciousness along with exhaustion—they must be expending a huge amount of energy staying invisible—Calli closed her eyes and let her senses rule, feeling an unholy pull of evil more like a putrid stench than anything else. She nudged Thunder’s slowing wings toward the spots that made her heart pound, her mouth dry, her body tremble with atavistic knowledge of torturous death. Opening to the evil core.

  Three places, deep in slitted canyons so that she couldn’t truly see them, only sense they were there. She marked them on her internal map, and noticed her dreeth trousers were no longer transparent but turning their usual brown.

  Boom! The air shuddered around them, heated instantly. A liquid fountain of magma missed them by inches.

  Home! she screamed to Thunder. No time to stop and soak up energy. If she were Marian she could leach it from the lava, but she was not a master of fire.

  Her specialty was air. Air. Heat, ash, lived in the air. Trembling, she squeezed the energy of heat from the air around her, did her best to filter it, transmute it to Power she poured into Thunder and herself.

  Thunder surged forward, dodging more fiery spurts.

  Dreeths screamed battle cries.

  Go!

  She thought of lava, of rock, and croaked a Shield spell.

  Their invisibility spell vanished.

  Leaning down against Thunder’s neck, she urged him on, sent him all the Power she could spare, even prayed to the Song for a tailwind.

  In the distance she saw tiny volarans speeding toward her, faintly colored Shields indicating the Marshall Pairs, heading to guard and defend her, battle horrors here at their home. All she had to do was pass the nest’s Shield, which she hadn’t even noticed on her way in.

  Grinning, she urged Thunder faster. As fire—dreeth and volcanic—rained down on them, she drew the energy from them into her Shield.

  And she stuck to Thunder as he dipped and dodged in the air.

  Wham. Wind struck them hard from behind, ripped at Thunder’s wings, sent them cartwheeling. The dark blue sea advanced.

  Thunder screamed.

  Easy. Easy.

  She checked him over. No major wounds. Keep him calm though the sky and clouds spin, the waves’ reach…. Closing her eyes, she drained herself of Power, sent it all to him. Water splashed around them, icy. Her eyelids popped open. They were facing the island. A tidal wave bore down on them.

  Wind and wave, flame and earth, by the Song hear me! Help us!

  Another gust of wind swept under Thunder’s wings; he angled them and rode it upward in a long spiral, heading toward the continental shoreline.

  Alexa and Bastien bracketed them. Bastien flashed a grin.

  You got through the Dark’s Shield. You did it! Alexa sent mentally.

  Marian and Jaquar waved, then dived under Thunder. He squealed as more wind, a warmer breeze, lifted them farther, bathed them in energy.

  Calli eased the clamp she had on his emotions. He was fine. Out of danger, and fine.

  Alexa looked back. Calli did, too. Fire and steam still plumed from the mountain. The tsunami rolled below.

  I hope the camp is packed up, Alexa said telepathically. Her smile flashed. Woman, you really caused a ruckus.

  I doubt it is unaware of me anymore, Calli said, smiling, conscious of the cool air drying her sweat. Can’t go back there anytime soon.

  Ttho, Bastien said. He shook his head. You were lucky.

  Luckier than they thought, learning of the volaran’s invisibility talent.

  You Exotiques. Always exciting to be around, Bastien said.

  Like you wild magic users, Calli retorted.

  He flung back his head and laughed.

  Thealia Germaine flew around them, outstripped them to take point. Did you get the information?

  Lady Swordmarshall, Exotiques always deliver, Alexa said.

  Good, we’ll debrief Calli as soon as we make camp again. Some new Chevaliers have arrived to help us on our way back. Apparently, the feycoocus spread the word that we are returning. I’ll see to the arrangements. She flew ahead. Her husband and Shield winked and saluted Calli.

  Breath coming more steadily, Calli asked, Did Marrec come?

  No answer.

  Jaquar rose to take Thealia’s place. He has not arrived yet.

  Surely he’d gotten her message. Calli forced a smile, though seeing these loving couples hurt. She blinked rapidly. Good to see you all, and together.

  We all had our differences, Marian reminded drily.

  He’d better come around soon, Alexa grumbled.

  When they landed in an area they’d camped a few days before, Alexa and Marian hugged her, then stepped aside so the men could do the same. Calli liked the male affection, their solidity, though it reminded her how long it had been since Marrec had held her.

  Expression set, Alexa said, I’ll inform Thealia that she should go easy. She fingered her baton, pivoted and marched off.

  Bastien patted Calli on the shoulder. “Well done.”

  “That reminds me.” Calli plucked the recording stars from both her shoulders and Thunder and handed them to him. He didn’t even glance at them before flicking them magically away.

  Calli sighed long, her shoulders slumped. She thought the tension rolled from her in waves. Maybe as big as the tsunami.

  Jaquar lifted one of her limp hands and kissed it. “You have done us all a great service.”

  “Yes, you have,” Marian said.

  Sniffing, Calli smelled frying eggs, onions
, bacon and salivated. One glance at the sky showed her it was still midmorning, though it felt like an eternity of days had passed. “I’m hungry. I’m gonna nab something to eat. I know you two want to look at those stars.” Calli flapped her hand. “Go.”

  Marian smiled. “One of the stars is with Thealia. We’ll see you in the command tent.”

  Calli nodded, realized she’d been leaning against Thunder, who had his head down. His feet occasionally scuffed in the earth, drawing Power from Amee, something volarans rarely did unless they were near the last of their strength. She rubbed him in his favorite spot. “I need food. I’ll make sure you get prime feed, too.”

  Thunder swiveled an ear in agreement. Do not speak of the volaran invisibility to others, he asked softly. Marshalls and Chevaliers would want us to use the skill all the time, and it is a volaran secret, something a volaran should decide to use.

  “I won’t talk of it, but you can tell the alphas that the talent is very, very costly in terms of Power—at least, when newly learned and for a Human-Volaran Pair. You volarans may be able to wink in and out by yourselves easier. Also it is mutually exclusive of the Shield spell.” I think.

  Thunder tilted his head, a lock of his mane fell between his eyes. Perhaps only you can use it. He glanced at the others walking toward Thealia’s tent, being stopped by Chevaliers asking for news of the mission.

  Or only an extremely few can merge with a volaran to Sing such a skill, like Bastien with wild magic. Swinging his neck around, he stared at Marwey. Or the one best in mind-merging. Or a good mind-speaker like Marrec.

  It had been like an altered state. She grinned. She bet if anyone knew about altered states it was Marian. And Marian and Alexa, too.

  Of course, all our Exotiques.

  He sounded like himself. She took in an easy breath. A great weight she hadn’t realized she was carrying lifted from her heart.

  “Chevalier Callista,” called Thealia impatiently, standing at the entrance to her pavilion. “We await you.”

  Calli’s squire hovered. I wish I could stay and groom you. Her stomach grumbled.

  Thunder rolled an eye, smirked. I will be pampered.

  “I guess so.” She walked to the campfire where the food was, had the cook stuff a pocket of bread with eggs and onions and cheese and began eating as she went to Thealia’s tent. She gulped the food down, then regretted it when she entered and everyone’s eyes turned to her and her stomach tightened.

  “The stars are useless,” Thealia said. Her lips set into a tight line.

  Jaquar stared at one in his hand. “Now, Swordmarshall, it’s true the Dark may have superficially blocked our devices—”

  Thealia snorted. “More like they never recorded at all.”

  “But several Circlets created each star. That took plenty of Power. We’ll find a way through the Dark’s defensive spells.”

  “Meanwhile, Calli’s memory is our primary hope,” Marian said with a commiserating look at Calli. Marian gestured to a large table with blank parchment spread on it. “The parchment is magic, Calli. All you have to do is touch it and remember everything you learned during the flyover. We have a stack.” She looked eager, as always, to observe something new.

  “Huh,” Calli said. “Water, please.” Her throat was dry.

  Marian handed her an open bota and Calli drank. As she did so, her body absorbed the innate Power of the water. Interesting. Somehow during the ride, she’d bonded with another element of Amee, water, and could pull that energy into herself easily and naturally.

  Her stomach settled, she twitched her lips in a polite smile and went over to the table.

  Setting both hands on the parchment—render skin, because it took ink best—spread out on Thealia’s desk, Calli closed her eyes, gathered her best memories of the nest, sent them down to the waiting sheet. She opened her eyes and saw a precise topographical map with circular lines going up and up and up to the black open mouth of the volcano. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting for her, for them, the other Exotiques.

  She pushed the large page aside. “More!”

  A man’s hands shoved a stack of parchment onto the desk. Jaquar. These sheets were smaller, but still useful. Again she leaned over and let what she saw drain out of her…a geographical map of the island. A climatological. The volcano itself. The boulders, the fissures seething with steamy miasma. The domes and crevices.

  Again and again and again until her knees gave out and her memory finally blurred and she crumpled.

  Bastien caught her, his vibrant, vital Song sloughing away some of the grimy film the Dark had left on her. He helped her to a chair. Someone shoved a goblet into her hand and the fragrance of the potion cleared her mind. Everyone else gathered around the table, talking over each other.

  “Merde!” Thealia’s voice was hard. “No good harbor. A few flat spots for volarans, but all in the open. How will we invade?”

  She looked at Calli. “Good work.” Then the Swordmarshall turned back to the maps, flipped through them, her forehead wrinkled. “We’ll find some way.”

  Calli’s stomach rolled. Sending volarans…people…Pairs…into that place. Her mind couldn’t grasp it. Her feelings rebelled. She chugged the potion, rose.

  She couldn’t stay and listen to the endless discussion about strategy. The nest had worked its evil on her. She knew they wouldn’t be attacking it anytime soon. Too much bad mojo. Cold, she rubbed her arms, even though the day had been unusually hot for the north. She left the tent, ignoring calls after her. What she needed was her bondmate.

  But Marrec wasn’t here.

  She’d never forget that ride, the sight of the festering boil of evil, for the rest of her life. The shakes had started again in her toes and would spread upward. She wanted to get out of the camp, where she could fall apart alone. She wanted to ride in the sun. Fly high—higher than over the Dark’s place—feel the heated caress of sunlight, the embrace of the cleansing wind.

  Thunder had been as affected as she, and in the back of her mind she heard her squire and others coddling him—and getting information about the flight and the nest. She’d have to ask Bastien to write down Thunder’s impressions, too. Marrec would have been the best person to do that, of course, and she’d hoped that he would have been waiting for her return. She’d been certain he’d be here. But he wasn’t and she set aside the disappointment. She was tired, that’s why she was so emotional, so wanted him.

  Concentrating on the freshness of the air, she strolled to the corral, knowing that there would be no shortage of volarans volunteering for a high, fast, fun flight with her. Her mouth curved in a half smile.

  “Ah, a pretty lady, dreaming. What are you thinking?” Raoul’s voice was nearly a purr, yet it pulled her from a slight daze and she stumbled. He caught her arm to steady her, linked his with hers. What was he doing here? One of the new arrivals. She should have known. Sleaze oozed everywhere.

  “I’m flying.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You just came back from a long flight.”

  This confirmed her judgment that he wasn’t a good Chevalier. She shifted her shoulders…those muscles were still tense and one of the reasons she wanted to fly. Sex would be better. “That was a mission. Now I want to indulge in pleasure.” As soon as she said it, she knew she’d given him an opening she’d never wanted him to have.

  “Pleasure.” He smiled, slowly. Some woman must have told him he had a killer smile. It was nice enough, especially combined with twinkling eyes and handsome features, but it had no effect on Calli. “I would be honored to provide you with pleasure.”

  She pulled her arm from his. Didn’t look his way when she replied. “I’m Pairbonded.” Though she still wanted to amble, she picked up the pace.

  “I’ve never heard that Pairbonding was completely exclusive. And your Pairling leaves you so long, so often.”

  Widening her eyes, she said, “No? Exclusivity is definite. It said so in the Lorebook of Pairbonding.” She didn’t even know
if there was such a book.

  His totally blank look amused her. “There’s a book on it? And you read it?”

  The exchange was beginning to energize her, or the rapid walk. “Of course I read it. We Exotiques are given lots to read, and since I wanted to know about the Choosing and Bonding—the ritual and all.” Sounded good to her.

  Within sight of the corral, she quickly scanned what volarans idled there, reaching out with her mind to discover which one would best match her mood. Her squire’s volaran was fresh. May I fly your volaran, she sent to man and steed. Her squire bowed, the volaran neighed in delight. So she walked up to the young stallion and smoothed his neck, noticing her hand shook. Let’s fly high and free and play!

  The volaran lifted his head, twitched his ears, then eyed her companion. Pulling his top lip up in a smirk, he made a short hop to just in front of them, kicking up dust. Calli had had just enough warning to hold her breath.

  Raoul doubled over coughing.

  They were off and into the blue, soon away from the camp. Her body shook in reaction. She’d managed to fend it off as long as she had duties to perform, but now…Now shudders ripped through her. The volaran murmured in her mind, more than one, Singing, soothing. On one turn, he said, Look, angling his head.

  Marrec and Dark Lance zoomed toward them.

  Tears, pulled deep from her heart, flooded her eyes until she could barely see her Pairling. Marrec, she whispered mind to mind.

  I mounted within minutes of receiving your message from the feycoocu.

  He hadn’t known. She hiccupped, slumped in the saddle, reached in her pocket for a handkerchief.

  The blow hit her hard, toppled her forward, sideways. Darkness edged her vision. The volaran screamed, dropped. He’d been hurt, too! Another hit, backed by malevolent hatred, and pain exploded in her head. She fell. Saw thin mist below her, the gray tossing sea.

  She was going to die.

  Marrec and Dark Lance were there. He Sang, leaned far out from Dark Lance’s saddle. Grabbed her.

  Air whipped around them, plucked Marrec from his volaran. The winged horses screamed but were lost from sight.