Protector of the Flight

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Protector of the Flight Page 41

by Robin D. Owens


  “Which feycoocu?” Marrec murmured.

  Calli squinted. “Though it’s male…I’d say Alexa’s companion.”

  Sinafinal shut and opened her tail feathers, then turned as if to lead.

  After sharing a glance, they followed the stately peacock. It actually walked slower than they’d been, so they earned a few more minutes to acclimate. As Calli recalled Alexa’s tale of the Singer, and from the buzzing Power surrounding them, she began to think that she’d need all her wits.

  All the buildings were fanciful, mixing spires and onion domes with round and square towers in a jumble that still twinged Calli’s heart at the beauty. As they walked, heavy spells of protection and Songs pulsed from the walls. The pretty pathways included cobbles and greenery and stepping stones and live thyme. None of the paths were long and they often curved, branched, came to a dead end at a wall. It didn’t take long to realize that they were threading a maze—and unlike the Castle’s, this one was of stone.

  At the end of the last twisting path was a high pointed arch doorway set in a jewel of a chapel. Another Friend waited on the threshold of the open door. “The Singer awaits,” he said.

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  The Friend stepped aside as they entered, waved toward the end of the gracefully arched stone building. “Just walk straight through all the rooms.”

  Calli once again adjusted her wedding robe over her dreeth leathers. Both reminded her who she was. The feycoocu chirped and stayed behind.

  A few steps in, all her tension drained and she stumbled. Marrec caught her elbow and smiled at her with an easy curve of his lips.

  Calli frowned and glanced at the Friend behind them, who stood with placid expression and folded hands. “This entryway suppresses negative emotions.”

  Of course.

  Marrec shifted his shoulders. “The Abbey is lovely.”

  The light inside was wonderful, painting the white stone walls golden from the windows set in arches on the bottom and huge towering rectangular windows above them. The space was relatively narrow compared to the height. They were the only people in this chamber, though the soft hum of voices and Songs rose from elsewhere.

  A small line appeared between Marrec’s brows as if he heard his own words whisper in an echo back to him. His fingers closed harder on Calli’s arm and that helped focus her thoughts, though she didn’t get her suspicions back.

  “Is this where Song Quests are done?” Marrec stood solidly in place.

  “No,” said the Friend.

  “Guess we’re relatively safe then,” Calli said.

  “Safety is always relative,” Marrec said.

  About a third of the way down was a beautifully carved wooden wall about sixteen feet high that blocked the rest of the space and emphasized the austerity of the tall creamy stone walls and glass. The wooden screen held a small door they’d have to go through single file.

  Their steps were muffled and Calli noticed that some areas had thick rugs and others were bare stone in patterned squares of dark red and blue marble.

  They walked fast through three chambers, nodding to Singer’s Friends who stood or talked or worked at desks, then entered the last, smallest space. The walls were paneled with gleaming dark oak, the floor layered with rugs. A couple of steps led to a dais where a chair that looked like a throne stood. Behind the chair a tall velvet curtain of royal blue rippled and Calli was sure there was more space and at least one door behind it.

  Alexa hovered at the door, waiting for them, as she’d promised.

  Sitting up straight in the chair, her feet placed on an embroidered footstool, was a very small and very old lady whose eyes pierced Calli.

  Marrec’s hand unlinked with hers and he put his arm in a loose circle about her waist, again matching step with her. Alexa kept pace with them. When they reached the steps up to the platform, Marrec gave a half bow, so Calli did, too.

  With a graceful gesture the Singer indicated some chairs on the dais that Calli hadn’t noticed.

  “Welcome to Singer’s Abbey. I am the nine-hundred-and-ninety-ninth Singer.” That stopped Calli in her tracks. She looked over at Alexa, who was looking right back at her.

  The Singer chuckled, the rich timbre of it sank right into Calli’s bones. This was a woman who breathed Power. Someone deeply trained in magic over a very long period of time. Every sound she uttered would carry spells.

  Calli and Marrec went to chairs on the Singer’s left. Marrec hesitated, then put her between himself and the Singer—protecting her more from whatever might burst through the door than the old woman. Well, strange things had happened to Calli in the last couple of months, she wouldn’t bet that more unusual events couldn’t occur, like an attack in the seat of Power in Lladrana. She sat, arranging her scarf.

  Alexa took a chair to the Singer’s right, legs dangling. She was nearly as small as the old woman. With a sniff, Alexa settled back and crossed her legs on the chair seat. The Singer raised a hand and a man dressed in midnight blue separated himself from the shadows and put a little footstool near Alexa’s chair. She smiled up at him, with teeth. Her wariness was sharp enough to overcome the smothering spells in the walls. “Thank you. I’m fine.”

  “Swordmarshall, your boots on the chair and cushion—”

  “Consequences of you not being prepared,” Alexa said. “Cost of doing business.”

  Calli listened in admiration, but then Alexa was a woman used to being aggressive.

  Cocking her head, Alexa said, “Tell me, Lady Singer, does your vocal range include four octaves?”

  Everyone looked surprised at Alexa’s question, the servant horrified.

  The Singer laughed, once again tickling nerves deep inside Calli.

  “Ayes, dear, it does.”

  Alexa met Calli’s eyes. “Marian would have wanted me to ask.”

  Calli was clueless.

  “The weapon knot,” Alexa said. “It can only be used by someone who has a singing range of four octaves.”

  “Ah, the Circlet Marian Harasta,” said the Singer. Her words lilted and Calli figured she could listen to the woman all day and that if the Singer actually Sang she might fall out of her chair in a blissful faint.

  “Thou mayst tell Marian that she is most welcome to visit me,” the Singer said in English, in a Boston accent.

  Marrec sat up straight. He was listening hard. Still protective of herself and Alexa. What a man. “You hold our children?” He spoke English, too.

  The Singer made a moue. “They are safe and healthy, enjoying the Abbey.” She’d switched back to Lladranan and Calli didn’t know if she liked it. The Singer’s voice was much more a subtle weapon of infinite meanings and tone when speaking Lladranan.

  Calli caught the sound of the far outside door opening and voices coming from the end of the hall, which were silenced by an authoritative command. No one said anything as they heard quick boot heels in long strides snapping on stone and muffled on rugs. No one else tried to stop the man, though there were murmurs as he passed through the other rooms. Finally the door opened and Luthan Vauxveau in his white leathers entered. When he reached the bottom of the dais, he made a sweeping bow to the Singer. “Lady.”

  The Friend hastily placed a chair to the outside of Alexa, though Calli would have bet her manor that Luthan treated antique furniture with care, no matter what the circumstances. He took the chair, then sent a less than respectful glance toward the Singer. “I just heard that Calli and Marrec are back. All the volarans are Singing with gladness. You didn’t inform me that Calli and Marrec would return today.”

  “It is time you trained your own prophetic Power,” she said.

  His head jerked back as if from a blow.

  “And that leads me to why I wanted this interview.” The Singer turned to Calli. “You have brought new understanding between volarans and people, fulfilling that task. You have mended the rift between the Chevaliers and the Marshalls, which has fulfilled the Chevaliers’ task. You have found and su
rveyed the Dark’s nest here on Amee, another task.” She tapped the wooden arm of her chair with her fingernails and even that sound echoed through the room.

  Incredible acoustics. Incredible woman.

  The Singer looked at Marrec. “And Callista brought you, the finest Volaran Speaker, into your true Power. You also completed your task on Exotique Terre. You brought the horses to breed with the volarans. I do not travel well anymore, and I wanted to meet you here in my home.” Her smile held an edge. “I was sure that Alyeka would come, too, as she did, and hoped to see Marian also. Three Exotiques.” See them together and study them and their interactions, Calli got that. “And their Pairlings.”

  Calli’s stomach clutched. “You have our children.”

  The Singer nodded. “The only children adopted by Exotiques in centuries. They have been very informative.”

  “You took the children away from Marian and Jaquar.” Alexa aimed a laser glance at Luthan. “You took them.”

  His face somber, he made a sitting bow. “I apologize once again.”

  Alexa sniffed. “I’ll never let you forget it, brother of my Pairling.” Then she stared at the old woman. “And you ordered it.”

  “I wanted to see the children, learn their potential, and know of their bonds to their adopted parents.”

  Alexa hopped down from her chair and paced across the dais and back. “Not fair.”

  “And you still think that life should be fair, Alyeka,” the Singer said.

  Doves flew through the upper windows. Alexa raised an arm automatically and Sinafinal lit on it. The other circled around Calli and Marrec then landed on Marrec’s shoulder. He looked pleased.

  “Ayes, everyone manipulates the Exotiques—except the other Exotiques.” Alexa came over and stood by Calli, but continued to gaze at the Powerful woman. “So, my lady Singer. Is it true that you had a magic mirror that connected to a crystal on Calli’s mountain?”

  The shock of that revelation jolted all the way to Calli’s toes, sharpened her concentration until she could feel the faint stirring of a draft over her skin. “Is that true?” she asked. Her hand went to Marrec’s, they linked fingers again, always. Once again she saw the lost crystal hillface in her mind. Something that had been special to her since childhood, that she hadn’t even realized until now. It had been a portal. She had seen images of Lladrana through it. Because of the crystal, or the Singer?

  Outrage pulled Calli to her feet. “Did you destroy my crystal?”

  The woman lowered eyelids puffy with age and Calli knew something with deep certainty. “You pushed us through to Earth, didn’t you? Broke the crystal on my mountain.” The little old lady’s eyelids flicked, but she didn’t meet Calli’s eyes. Yet she sensed that what she’d accused wasn’t the whole truth.

  “Why?” asked Marrec, cold and softly.

  The Singer tilted her head. “Surely you know the reasons.”

  When they stood and let the silence grow, a silence that sent furious waves of sound through the atmosphere, she waved a hand and banished the negativity. Then she met their stares in turn and her musical voice came once more. “I will not answer your charge, but I will admit that there was a need for you, both of you, to visit Exotique Terre and return here. Bringing the horses was one reason, the only one I’ll tell.”

  Marrec grunted. “Calli wouldn’t have gone back in the Snap.”

  “Ttho,” said the Singer. “She would have stayed.”

  “Right,” Alexa said, fingering her baton.

  “You made me break a promise to my son.” Calli’s voice quivered with pain and anger.

  The Singer’s mouth turned down. “I discovered that too late. I am sorry for the hurt that was caused.”

  “But you don’t admit responsibility for the deeds,” Marrec’s voice grated. “And I don’t want to probe these mysteries. I want recompense. No. I demand recompense.”

  “Ah.” The Singer gave a little cough. She stared at each of them in turn. None of them dropped their eyes. Then her mouth rounded and liquid notes of pure beauty came from her throat. A servant hustled up with two sheets of paper and a bar of soft gold. The Singer put her lips to each sheet of paper. Before Calli’s eyes, words appeared as if written in ink on the paper. Then the page was folded over and the end of the gold liquefied and dripped onto the paper, then spread out like a seal.

  Calli goggled.

  When it was done, the Singer handed the two sheets to Marrec. “These are my recommendations to Lady Knight Swordmarshall Thealia Germaine and Lady Hilaire Hallard that you, Marrec and Callista Gardpont, have fulfilled all your duties and should be allowed a normal life upon your estate. That all my listening to the Song says this is best.” Her lips firmed, then she said, “That much is the truth at this time. But I will consult with the Song at moonrise, and that truth may change. So these letters are only in effect for two hours, after that the spell ink will vanish. You will find the Swordmarshall and Chevalier at the encampment.”

  Alexa squeaked. “Two hours! That’s barely enough time to use Distance Magic to reach the encampment.”

  “Sufficient time,” Luthan disagreed.

  “We can’t even visit with the children for a few minutes!” Calli said.

  Marrec cast a hard look to the Singer, set Tuckerinal aside, put the letters in his belt pouch and took Calli’s hand. “We’d better go. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return and claim our children. We’ll be back.”

  They left the room without another word, though Calli heard Alexa mutter something to the Singer and Luthan, then her short strides sounded behind them.

  Alexa caught up to them near the entryway. In a cheery tone, she said, “I think that went pretty well, don’t you?”

  Marrec snorted.

  Alexa raised her eyebrows. “Hey, at least she didn’t grab you and send your mind spinning into alternative futures here and on Earth.”

  “No, and we guilted her into helping us with this bonus.” Calli tapped her finger on Marrec’s belt pouch. “In two hours we’ll be free to raise a family.” Then she wished she’d bitten her tongue. Alexa was a warrior, she’d continue to fight.

  As if discerning her thought, Alexa smiled. “These battles won’t go on forever, you know. We’ll beat the Dark, and in the next two years.” She opened the large door and afternoon sunlight painted a bright square on the stone floor. “And here’s my cowardly Pairling, waiting for us outside the Singer’s lair.”

  Bastien immediately began to strip.

  “No!” Alexa nearly shouted. “We don’t need to see all your scars.”

  He smirked. “I proved my courage in my Marshall Testing that way.”

  “Not necessary,” Alexa repeated.

  Turning to Calli, he widened his eyes. “Calli may wish to appreciate me.”

  “I’ve seen you naked in the baths,” she said drily.

  Marrec stared down at her. “You noticed another man?”

  She touched his fingers wrapped around her waist. “Only vaguely. And he compares poorly to you. You fill my senses with your Song.”

  Bastien clutched at his chest. “Oh, the terrible wounds a woman’s words can inflict.”

  Alexa snickered, then her expression froze as Luthan joined them. He bowed stiffly to Marrec and Calli. “My apologies for any concern I caused you.”

  Alexa punched him on the arm. “You should apologize to Bastien and me, too. We were worried. And you owe Marian and Jaquar more than a verbal apology for what you put them through.”

  Luthan winced. “I will discuss that with them,” he said stiffly. “The Singer has requested you and Bastien join her for dinner.” He turned to Calli and Marrec. “Your volarans are saddled and ready to go. Thunder came with me from the Castle.”

  Since Marrec kept quiet, Calli said, “Thank you.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Alexa said. “The camp is perfectly safe. Actually, since you were gone, there have been no battles, and the camp is still a fair way behind the line of
previous fighting.”

  “Good to know,” Marrec said.

  “This is Thealia and Lady Hallard’s regular inspection day.”

  “Ah.”

  “Excellent. It’ll be efficient, catching them together,” Calli said.

  “Try and arrange that you confront them outside a tent, in public,” Bastien advised. “Then they can’t manipulate you as easily.”

  “Good idea,” said Marrec.

  Bastien smiled and bowed, waving them on their way. “I try my best.”

  Luthan hooked his arms with his brother and Alexa. “The Singer’s private dining room is in this direction.”

  “Private,” muttered Alexa. “Private. I don’t want to be private with her.”

  With a sigh, Calli took off her wedding robe and carefully folded it, handing it to Alexa. “Will you find a bag and keep this for me?”

  “Of course.” Steps dragging, Alexa followed Bastien and Luthan.

  A hawk cawed and they looked up to see Sinafinal perched on a gargoyle-laden drainpipe attached to a building a few yards to their left.

  This way. Faster. Tuckerinal will lead you inside, through buildings. I will lead you outside.

  The small greyhound standing in front of the entrance barked. Tuckerinal.

  They hurried to the door.

  A few dizzying minutes later, they were approaching the gate. Calli glanced back in the direction where she sensed their children.

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  “We can’t see them now. There’s no time for greetings, let alone explanations and goodbyes,” Marrec said.

  She swallowed. That was the very reason she kept her link to them very quiet, so they wouldn’t notice she and Marrec were back and become overexcited. It would be only a couple of hours before they’d all be together and at home.

  Marrec was keeping his bond with the children low and thin, too. She nodded. “Jetyer’s Song contains a darkness. He thinks we betrayed him, abandoned him.”

  Marrec took time to stroke her back. “By the end of this night we’ll be home together.”

 

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