Protector of the Flight

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by Robin D. Owens


  Seeva bent over a sleeping form, framed the woman’s face, inhaled and drew the life, the Power from her. Calli could see it sparkle like bedewed diamonds from the noble Chevalier to Seeva. She’d never known that could be done. She shuddered. Of course she wouldn’t. She hadn’t been taught how to recognize or battle evil in human form.

  Horror kept her still as she watched Raoul Lebeau strip the body of a jeweled necklace and rings. Then he speared the woman casually, as if making sure of the kill. He stepped back to observe her body sink into the ground to be embraced by Amee.

  Lord Veenlit joined them, his face aged—by evil?—heavily jowled and ruddy in the firelight, holding a beautifully jeweled sword, stroking the hilt.

  Seeva glanced at him. “You finally got what you wanted.”

  “My enemy’s sword, yes. And riches.” He gloated.

  Calli forced her gorge down. Stepped back in the shadows to look for a weapon, ducked into the nearest tent, and shivered with relief as she found it to be Koz’s. Anything she chose here would work for her, with her, on several levels. She saw the chest, ran over and hummed the keycode. It opened to show her the Damascene dagger, wickedly sharp, strong and Singing of the skill and magic of two worlds.

  Grabbing it, she sped back out, just in time to see three more bodies vanish into the soil, the men pocketing more gems, and Seeva moving on toward her next victim—Koz. She set her hands on him, frowned.

  “Another of those strong in Power and determination against the Dark?” Raoul mocked, but he sounded drunk. “So much harder to drain them, ain’t it?”

  “Stop!” Calli shouted.

  All three jerked to stand before her. Calli swallowed as she met Seeva’s eyes. Eyes living with evil, a smile all viciousness. “You,” Calli said, then. “Why?”

  Seeva rubbed her hands. “Finally you come.” She glided forward a couple of steps.

  Calli stood her ground. “Why?”

  “The Dark needs a new servant, a Master of the horrors, that we might win dominion of Lladranan, of Amee.”

  Calli’s mouth threatened to drop right open. “You wish to be the—the—” She couldn’t seem to get her brain around the thought.

  Lifting her chin, Seeva said, “The new Master. She who rules the horror. She, who, after the Dark entity itself, is the most Powerful person on Amee.”

  “The Singer—”

  “Bah! A weak old woman.”

  Before Calli’s eyes, the air around Seeva began to glow, lighting her brilliantly, with the brightness and abundance of her Power. The Power she’d stolen from others.

  “Always and ever I had Power. Wanted to apprentice to a Circlet, but that wasn’t what people of our family did. So said my father when he was alive, and mother, and my sisters and brothers. None of them listened. None of them understood.”

  “Why didn’t you just leave? Do it on your own?”

  Seeva’s lip curled. “Live like a servant for years while I apprenticed to some arrogant Circlet who was lesser than me in nobility? Precious few Circlets come from the noble class. I petitioned the one I thought would be the most useful and she rejected me. Me! Sent me a note that she couldn’t be bothered with a girl who’d struggle to raise her Tower.” Seeva whirled and Calli looked for an opening, but the men watched her narrowly.

  “That was then,” Seeva crooned. “But see me now, see how much Power I’ve taken, how much I will keep.”

  “Enough magic from others that it has made you mad. You have little personal Song of your own left.” Calli licked her lips. “And the silver streak in your hair is no larger.” Maybe they all were wrong. Maybe Seeva couldn’t keep the Power she’d ripped from others.

  Seeva snorted. “The silver is so easy to hide if you want to, and my mother preferred it.” She shoved back her locks and when her fingers released her hair, her whole head glowed silver—as silver as Alexa’s.

  “You want my Power,” Calli said, gripping the hilt of Koz’s dagger hard.

  With a glittering smile, Seeva nodded. “Ayes. From the moment you arrived—from before you arrived.”

  “Alexa is too strong a warrior.” Calli was figuring it out. “Marian too strong a Circlet.”

  Shrugging, Seeva said, “A matter of convenience. A Chevalier’s Power is closest to my ancestral family Power, and you are still untrained in the greatest uses, concentrating on your stupid volaran speak. You command weak animals. I will command potent monsters.”

  She had a point in that Calli knew few purely Powerful offensive spells.

  “But I will weaken you first.”

  “You can’t use me like that.” She looked at Marrec lying on the ground. He appeared to be sleeping, but looked as tough and strong as usual. “And you couldn’t use Marrec, could you?”

  Seeva laughed and it was ugly. Made her ugly. “Many are stupid and excellent sources. They’re too lazy to use their considerable Power, so I drain it off them just…like…this.” She put a hand on Raoul’s upper arm and sucked. He went up like a torch.

  “Now, Seeva,” Veenlit scolded.

  Seeva turned around and Calli’s blood froze in an instant. Seeva, the evil, crazy woman had a limp Diaminta in a backpack on her back. A cry tore from Calli.

  Laughing, Seeva said, “She’s Powerful—a gift for the Dark.”

  Calli leaped, fell far short.

  Seeva gestured to Lord Veenlit. “Kill her.”

  Calli had to be smart and accurate and fast. She rolled and lunged, butting her head hard in his solar plexus. He went down. Rolled and rolled again as Seeva stared. The woman had never been athletic. Calli came up behind her, fast. Power was making her fast. Desperation was making her fast.

  Praying for accuracy, she slipped the dagger between Seeva’s back and the backpack, cut the straps cleanly, dropped the weapon to catch Diaminta. Thankfully the baby was still alive and asleep.

  Marrec! she shrieked.

  He shook his head, rocked to hands and knees.

  Catch Diaminta! She made sure she met his gaze; he appeared dizzy but determined. He reared back to his heels and she tossed the baby to him. He caught her close, staggered to his feet.

  Screaming fury, spittle flying, Seeva flung herself on Calli, fingernails ripping cheek and neck.

  The pain steadied her, gave her something to focus on. She’d won. She’d saved her family. Now to kill the evil bitch who’d sold her soul to Darkness. They rolled. In mud. In blood. Calli pummeled the woman, gasping, hit her on both temples.

  Thunder! she called.

  I…I come. The sound of hooves echoed in her head, she thought she could hear the whir of wings.

  Seeva was jerked away.

  Calli fell back, saw Marrec’s enraged face. He held Seeva by the neck of her robe, had the dagger in his other hand.

  He plunged it into her.

  She arched, gurgled a cry, died.

  Marrec fell, too.

  Lord Veenlit had regained consciousness, grabbed the dagger, kicked Marrec in the ribs and staggered toward Calli. “You ruined it all!” He threw the knife. It flashed toward her, hideous pain speared her as it pinned her shoulder to the ground.

  “You. Will. Pay,” Veenlit panted.

  She couldn’t feel either of her hands, writhed and only made the wound worse. Desperate, she reached for Thunder’s mind.

  Sweeping down, he kicked Veenlit in the head, followed him down to trample him into a bloody pulp in pure fear.

  Calli fought through Thunder’s violent terror, clamped her will upon his to calm. But as he realized what he stood on, he shuddered, threw off her hold, began to panic.

  The pain was a tearing ache, but helping Thunder distracted her. She could handle volaran panic. Once again she imposed her steady mind upon his. “Calm. Look at me and step sideways.”

  Wiggling a foot the volaran could focus on, and biting her lip to stifle her scream, she drew Thunder’s attention.

  With delicate steps, he shook each hoof and set it outside Veenlit’s body
. Dropped his head, barrel heaving. Veenlit’s corpse sank into the ground.

  Marrec was there, whispering tender words, removing the dagger with one clean stroke. He set his hands on both sides of the shoulder wound and pulled Power from Amee, from other minds now throwing off the enervating sleep. He healed her, banished her pain.

  She gaped at him. He sagged beside her.

  “How did you do that?”

  “A once-in-a-lifetime gift from Amee, I think.” He rubbed his left temple. The silver streak there was wider than ever.

  “Why aren’t you with our children?” Her voice rose.

  He pulled her into his arms, cradling her close. “They are safe. Koz watches them.”

  Calli turned her head to where she’d last seen Koz’s body. He wasn’t there.

  “Why aren’t you with our children?” she repeated.

  “Because you needed me more, beloved.”

  In the sky, thunder rolled. Lightning struck in three forks, on the two darkened spots where Raoul’s and Veenlit’s corpses had lain, and incinerating Seeva’s body. It had not sunk into the ground. Seeva had been as evil as the horrors and Amee had not accepted her.

  Alexa, Jaquar holding Jetyer, and Marian stood where the lightning hit. Jaquar let go of Jetyer and the boy ran to Calli and Marrec, sandwiching himself between them.

  Marian and Jaquar linked hands and minds and swept their staffs around the encampment, chanting. Alexa looked shell-shocked. Her hair stood straight out from her head. She fumbled to sheath her baton, stared down at Seeva’s crisped remains.

  “Eeww.”

  More thunder, lightning.

  Rain pummeled down, washing away the smog, cleansing everything, then stopped as suddenly as it came, and a dry, hot wind followed. Jaquar smiled.

  Alexa shook her head. “Bad show.”

  “Yes,” Calli said.

  “I felt you,” Marian said. “Both Jaquar and I did. We all are linked enough for that. We met Alexa and landed, then rode lightning here.” She shook her head, glanced around at the sluggish camp. “The sleepiness wouldn’t have alarmed me.” She grimaced. “I think your death would have jolted me, but by then it would have been too late.”

  “Far too late.” Calli coughed.

  At that moment, Luthan arrived.

  Calli jerked to her feet, glaring. “Your Singer set us up.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “All three Exotiques live.” When he opened his lashes, he said, “Did Koz live?”

  “Right here.” Koz exited his tent with Diaminta.

  “Thank the Song, the best future won.” Luthan glanced down at Seeva. “She’s dead, good.” Then he met Calli’s gaze, face grim. “Only you could make everything turn out as it should. She would have been the best Master for the Dark. That has been prevented.”

  Jaquar tilted his head. “I’ve just been notified that another Master to oversee the management and the invasion of the horrors has been chosen.”

  “But it is not Seeva. That battle we won,” Luthan said.

  “And it isn’t someone from us, from the Castle or the Chevaliers, who know us well,” Alexa said.

  Silence.

  “What?” asked Alexa.

  “It’s someone from Castleton,” Jaquar said.

  Calli gritted her teeth. “Still not quite as bad.”

  “One of Townmaster Sevair Masif’s assistants,” Jaquar added.

  “Ouch.” Calli winced.

  Alexa tapped her baton. “The Community of the Cities and Towns have approached us to Summon the next Exotique.”

  Sighing, Calli said, “And so it continues.”

  “And so it continues.”

  Then Diaminta began to yell. She wriggled and Koz put her down on her feet. She rocked a little, held out her arms to Calli. “Ma. Ma. Ma.” And staggered to her.

  Marrec grinned. “Her first steps.”

  Calli scooped up Diaminta. Her daughter nuzzled her, set her face against her and sighed a warm, good, baby breath onto her neck. Standing, she settled the little girl on one hip, stretched out her arm for Marrec. He moved in and put his solid arm around her waist, kissed her cheek. Jetyer joined them, grasping Marrec’s other arm and standing in front of them both. It would have made a perfect picture back home. Too bad they had no cameras on Lladrana.

  “We’ll hire a painter this very month,” Marrec said. “To image us so our children’s children will know how we made a family. And we’ll trade services for a musician to set our Songs into the canvas with our images. Song willing, strains of us will live for a long, long time.”

  Calli swallowed, pressed close to her husband as he shifted toward her. They’d survived. Through everything that had happened, on Lladrana and on Earth. They’d done more than survive, they’d triumphed, fulfilling the dreams of their own and their children, their children to come.

  Volarans circled them, running around them, wings slightly lifted, in some ritual blessing of their own that flowed out and covered her and her family with sparkling Power, and Calli heard for the first time, the Song of the Volarans for their Exotique. Tears filled her eyes and she didn’t stop them as they meandered down her cheeks.

  She kissed Diaminta’s soft black hair. “I love you, Diaminta.”

  “Ma. Ma.” Her daughter snuggled closer.

  Calli bent and made a loud smacking noise as she kissed Jetyer’s temple. He grinned up at her and she noticed he had a dimple. Like his father. “I love you, Jetyer.”

  “I love you, Mama.” His eyes, too, sheened.

  When she turned to kiss Marrec, his lips were there, a little open. Their mouths melded, his tongue caressed hers and sent Power through her. They withdrew from the kiss at the same time. His eyes were as deep and rich and soft as melted chocolate. “I love you, Calli.”

  “I love you.”

  The volarans stopped running and fanned around the family.

  Alexa and Bastien, Marian and Jaquar faced them, all in attitudes reflecting their character.

  “A real Hallmark moment,” Alexa said, hand on hip.

  “You look a picture,” Marian said at the same time.

  “Of a happy family,” Bastien said.

  “We are a happy family,” Marrec said.

  Content, Calli smiled.

  “Let’s go make a home and a family and a life,” Marrec said.

  “We’ll make a family,” Calli agreed. She glanced around the now-busy camp, bustling with Power and energy and life. The stars were bright against a black sky, and she felt like one of them, as the people around her were stars, too. Bright and burning. “But there will be a last battle.”

  Marrec’s arm tightened like steel around her waist. His gaze had gone tough and hard. He nodded. “We’ll be there for that, too.”

  “Together,” they said.

  PROTECTOR OF THE FLIGHT

  ISBN: 978-1-55254-859-2

  Copyright © 2007 by Robin D. Owens

  Author Photo by: Rose Beetem

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Worldwide Library, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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