Protector of the Flight

by Robin D. Owens

  Calli hadn’t introduced the western saddle to Lladrana. She wondered if that might have been a mistake. Her mare’s pretty ears flicked forward. She licked her lips. Calli smiled. The saddle was western and she put her foot in the stirrup, grabbed the horn and swung up. Her butt tingled all over when she settled into it, and it was warm, especially for being outside in this cloudy gray morning.

  Bert finished tying the rest of her line, dodging a kick from the smallest mare, who matched Thunder in size. Then he went to the gate and held it open, nodded at Marrec. “Montana, eh?”

  “Ayes,” Marrec said.

  The older man cocked his head.

  “Yes,” Calli said.

  Bert nodded. “Good country. Let me know where you settle. Good luck to you.”

  “Thanks.” Calli shifted the tiniest bit in her seat, as she would have on Thunder or a horse she’d trained for years. Millana moved out, smooth and easy.

  “Good luck to you, too,” she said to Bert.

  He grinned again. “I’ve had plenty of it, but am always happy for more.”

  “Fare well,” said Marrec. His stallion caught up with the mare and Calli.

  The gate was wide enough for them to leave side by side, with slight mind control from Marrec and Calli, suppressing urges. The road beyond was much wider. More clouds darkened the day and Calli shivered. She should have brought a heavier jacket. Fall was approaching. It would come even earlier in Montana. She let her gaze travel over her beloved mountains, the view not much different from her own ranch’s.

  No, not hers.

  Despite the fact that she’d returned to Colorado, had been ready to fight and claim her ranch, it truly was no longer her home. She swallowed.

  Riding with the ease of a top cowboy, or an Equine-speaking Chevalier of Lladrana, Marrec held the reins in one hand and reached out to her with the other.

  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

  Calli 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.

  The Friend took a step, his expression went comically surprised as he realized he was tangled in the great Song of the place and hadn’t even known it. He fell.

  She tilted her head and looked at him. “One of the texts of the Song in my land says, ‘A haughty spirit goes before a fall, and pride goes before destruction.’”

  The other Friends stepped aside as she and Marrec took a humming path up the gentle hill.

  After a couple of minutes, Calli realized that Marrec matched her steps. His Song, even and with burgeoning Power, radiated from him, encompassing her, supporting her. As her own Song went to him. Their melded Pair Song was stronger than ever, and she let a breath out at the thought.

  He glanced at her. “No other person could have kept me sane and functioning in a world like yours.” His voice was rough and she realized that he’d kept his words short, until now. His emotions swirled around them—released fear, dreadful confusion, incipient despair. He’d kept them all pent up on Earth.

  She stopped and wrapped her arms around him and stood with him, not caring who watched. They’d survived. Stroking his cheek, she said, “You could have lived on Earth. You’re strong and adaptable enough. We would have made a good life there.” But they’d always have had holes in themselves. She was so glad to be back, she ached. She’d hold her children in her arms soon.

  Tilting back her head, she welcomed his kiss. He pulled her tight, swept his tongue across her lips, then thrust it inside her mouth to explore. She gave herself up to sensation, sweet knowledge that she belonged here, with this man, on this world.

  When the hea
t had risen between them, he stepped back, fire in his eyes. “We’ll celebrate tonight.” His rare grin flashed and he took her hand again. “Now let’s retrieve our children and talk to the Singer.”

  There was an edge in his voice as he mentioned the prophetess. Sharp images ran from his mind to hers. The milky crystal in the hillside of her ranch on Earth…throbbing with Power that had been “tuned.” The same crystal in shards so they couldn’t return to Lladrana that way no matter how they tried. The recollection of the “push” that had spun them through to Earth when Calli would have stayed on Lladrana with the Snap.

  His anger fueled her own. Oh, yeah, she had things to say to this Singer.

  At the top of the hill was a rust-colored curlicued iron gate, which a woman held open for them. They walked through without stopping, though both Marrec and she thanked the gatekeeper. Calli didn’t hear it shut behind her.

  Marrec’s grip tightened on her fingers. Let us probe for the children. He sent his mind, his heart, his Song out.

  “They’re here!” Her heart found them first. “Playing in a garden.”

  One side of Marrec’s mouth quirked. “Quarreling.”

  She chuckled. “Yes.” Then she leaned her head against his arm. This time he stopped and they stood in a small cul-desac of green. “I want to hold my children.”

  His jaw flexed. “I do, too. But I have a feeling that the Singer isn’t going to release them to us until after this ‘interview.’”

  “Well, she’d better not think she can keep Diaminta and Jetyer. I’ll lead an army of volarans against her!”

  He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “You’d do that, go against the most Powerful person in Lladrana, perhaps on all of Amee?”

  “Yes, and Alexa and Marian and their men would join me.”

  Again he kissed her fingers, then said, “A high standard, me being cast in with Shieldmarshall Bastien Vauxveau and Circlet Sorcerer Jaquar Dumont.”

  She kissed his cheek. “You’re their equal.”

  He stilled. “I’m glad you think so.”

  “I know so.”

  There came a screech, and a peacock paraded around the edge of the building and up to them.