Keepers of the Flame

by Robin D. Owens

“If most Exotiques fulfill their task within two months for the Snap, Bri and I can do it, too.” Elizabeth was feeling overwhelmed, but wouldn’t admit doubt to anyone other than Bri.

  Blinking, Alexa said, “Fulfilled their task in two months?”

  “You said that the Snap averages two months, and one of the prerequisites for the Snap is the fulfillment of a task.”

  “Excellent deduction.” Faucon, the elegant Chevalier said from the door. He looked around. “All is as it should be.”

  “You did your task in two months,” Elizabeth said.

  Alexa pinkened. “A little over.”

  “Marian succeeded in a month,” Faucon said, and grunted when Alexa elbowed him. “And Calli—”

  “Calli decided early on to stay in Lladrana,” Alexa said.

  “Bri and I will work hard on our task,” Elizabeth said. “But we want to return home. We have our parents to consider. They’ll worry.” She lifted her chin. “Imagine how you’d feel if your children disappeared.”

  Scowling, Alexa said, “We understand that.”

  “Good. Understand that our food and our belongings are ours.”

  “Fine, fine.” Alexa waved a hand.

  “Promise.”

  “I promise,” Alexa ground out between her teeth.

  “You seem to be giving us a list of rules and requirements. I’m just returning the favor,” Elizabeth said, and the phrase sounded fine in Lladranan.

  Faucon indicated the potatoes. “I can arrange for a cold storage box to be put in your dining area,” he said smoothly.

  “Aren’t those expensive?” Alexa grumbled.

  Faucon just kept smiling.

  “Right, with you, zhiv—money—is no problem,” Alexa answered herself.

  “I’d like the cold box,” Elizabeth said. She sent a look to Alexa. “You were all very free with your bribes to keep us here this morning.”

  Alexa’s chin came up. She touched her baton. “Exotiques who stay get an estate and a lifetime salary. That’s the deal. The citymasters have a house for you in Castleton, but if you both stay you can have what you want, where you want.”

  “We won’t be staying.”

  “I’ll let you get settled,” Alexa said. Her eyes softened. “Despite all its dangers, Lladrana can be a wonderful home.”

  “I’m sure,” Elizabeth murmured.

  Alexa dug into a pocket and came out with a small crystal sphere. “Almost forgot, this is for you. Communication to any of us, though, um, we may develop a telepathic link as we go along.”

  Elizabeth took it. Even as she watched the crystal clouded. She hurriedly placed it on the sideboard.

  “We also have an internal communication system.” Alexa picked up a cow’s horn. “Magic—or rather Power. It doesn’t use much energy. Feel free to call.” She walked to the door.

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth’s mouth dried. Soon she’d be alone. She should cherish the time alone, as she’d learned to do during her medical training back home. But this wasn’t home.

  From the doorway, Alexa said to Faucon, “Aren’t you coming?”

  “In a moment.”

  She snorted again and disappeared into the hallway.

  Elizabeth met Faucon’s warm, dark chocolate-brown eyes.

  “You will have the cold-storage box within the hour.” He hesitated, came up to her and took her limp hand. Only when she felt the warmth of his fingers did she realize how cold her own were, though the room was nearly hot.

  He squeezed her hand. “Please, call on me if you have any other wishes you want fulfilled. I would be your friend.”

  From the lilt of sensual Song coming from him, Elizabeth was sure he wanted more. As she gazed at his elegant features, her pulse picked up, surprising her.

  Keeping his eyes on her, he kissed her hand, let it go. “Until later.”

  “Later,” Elizabeth whispered.

  He went out the door and closed it behind him.

  Elizabeth stared at the strange room, full of beautiful furniture, the window showing a landscape of gray and green rolling hills. No mountains. No plains.

  The white chest from a place a world away.

  She found herself on a new segment of her life, and not the new segment she had planned.

  And a new man?

  12

  Elizabeth spent her afternoon studying in-depth with the medicas, especially the non-invasive healing of muscle and bone. As predicted—or perhaps dreaded—a Chevalier fighting pair had arrived in bad shape.

  Calli and the Marshalls took care of the volarans’ injuries since the medicas wanted to teach Elizabeth.

  The Marshalls’ healing circle was more like calling down a blessing, or general healing, not detailed work with the chakras—God help her!—or individual systems of anatomy. The medicas could do this, too, and had participated in such circles to use the Marshalls’ incredible strength and teamwork. But individually and in pairs and triads, the medicas were more specialized, drawing on what Bri called the healingstream and performing with their minds and magic what surgical teams would do with hands and tools.

  Incidentally, Elizabeth learned other things. The Chevaliers she worked on were an independent pair, which meant that they were poor and didn’t fly under anyone’s banner, like Faucon’s people. The image of that man distracted her for a moment, and she had to ask for elucidation of the lesson. The medicas were waiving their fee because they were teaching her.

  The Chevaliers were pairbonded which meant marriage, and no stigma attached to homosexuality in this culture, a very good thing.

  And the wounds were fearsome.

  Elizabeth had never seen anything like them and had to keep her breathing, her emotions detached, her mind focused so she wouldn’t vomit.

  She learned from the medicas which “horrors” perpetrated each wound. Apparently the Chevaliers had been unlucky enough to run into a combination of all three major horrors.

  The long, deep and razor-thin slices were from “renders.” The easiest to mend with Power. “Slayers” had duller claws but poisonous spines. Elizabeth helped flush the poison from the Chevalier’s system, through the skin pores, which was gross enough to remind her of her beginning days of med school. Little round bumps left from “soul-suckers” showed a deadening of the skin around the wounds. Physical life force had been drawn from that injury.

  What was even more incredible to Elizabeth was that sometimes the Chevaliers wouldn’t get help if they felt the wounds weren’t severe enough.

  Any wound was dangerous in Elizabeth’s mind. The Lladranans had a different point of view. A very, very tough people.

  A people who’d been at war for a long time.

  Bri woke from her nap feeling restless. She tried to reach Elizabeth telepathically and was reassured when she touched her twin’s sleeping mind. They’d be able to communicate mentally, then. She wandered through the rooms, feeling like the greatest fraud. This wasn’t her; usually she shared small rooms with other women of her ilk. What would she do if she were in a new place on Earth? She’d go out. Even if she was unsure of the language, she’d unpack then hit the streets. Something was always going on outside if she didn’t want to stay in.

  It was a little melancholy to think that if she’d been back home in Denver, she’d be tucked up in Elizabeth’s spare bedroom watching a favorite video. She’d yearned for home, had made some life decisions and headed there, ready to put her plans in action. How ironic that the moment she really wanted to be home, she was here, in another new place.

  Which she didn’t know much about. Surely she’d understand more about the culture if she went out and looked around. It was midafternoon and the sun had finally come out, burning off wisps of mist and brightening pretty streets. Definitely out.

  What did she want to carry with her? She had no money—zhiv, she’d learned that word; her cell phone was useless. She wouldn’t get the feel of the people, couldn’t interact well with her music player going. She had a
fanny-pack for essentials like tissue, chocolate, her Swiss Army knife. She’d have to be careful with the chocolate, ration it if she was going to be here two months.

  She strode into the bedroom. A huge hamsterlike thing sat in the middle of the bed. Worse, her cell, PDA, music player and digital camera were around him, some in pieces.

  She shrieked and lunged for her electronic tools. The backs of her cell and her PDA were off and various plastic and metallic guts spilled across the bed. Her camera and music player looked untouched. She scooped up the PDA, camera and music player and clutched them to her breast. Her PDA had lost its backup battery and excess memory card. She stared at the creature. What was she going to do?

  To her horror, the beastie snatched at the power source of her cell, put the object in its mouth and munched it. Hello Brigid-who-likes-to-be-called-Bri. Your smell adds to the room.

  Bri staggered back to the wall, leaned against it, judged the distance to the door, a few steps. She could run if she had to. Surely she could outdistance such an animal. But it talked. Not simply an animal. “How do you know that?”

  Because I met your sister Elizabeth-who-dislikes-being-called-Beth and her name and yours were in her mind.

  Bri’s mouth fell open but no more words came out. The…the…being…scrabbled around in the heap of plastic and parts and picked out a memory chip. Bri whimpered, but that didn’t stop it from showing four teeth and biting down hard on the data storage, which disappeared into the enlarged hamster.

  “What are you?”

  What and who. I am a fey-coo-cu, a magical shapeshifter. I was once a hamster, brought here by Marian, my companion.

  That boggled the mind, Bri just couldn’t grasp it. She must be missing steps. “What?”

  Marian brought me here and I ate some stuff. With little digited plump paws it indicated the remains of her electronics, eyed the ones she still held.

  “Go on,” she said, stuffing her electronics in her pockets. How glad she was now that she hadn’t gotten an all-in-one PDA or phone!

  No, the being said.

  “No?” she repeated faintly.

  I am very good at Exotique telepathy. It preened and stroked its whiskers, shifted to rub its fat belly and Bri noticed it was male. Did he have something stashed in one of his cheek pouches?

  None of your data is gone. It is in me. His mouth opened and rounded. “Hello, twin, just informing you that all our plans went through. The trip for the folks to Hawaii for Dad’s birthday is paid for and set. I bought a leather carrier for the tickets to give him as a present.” Elizabeth’s voice projected from the fey-coo-cu. A cheerful Elizabeth of several weeks ago, before her breakup with the moron.

  Bri burst into tears.

  The hamster drooped. Not again.

  Staggering to the bed, she reached for her bag he’d rifled. At least he hadn’t taken any of her food—probably only ate electronics. Pretty limited diet here. She fumbled for a tissue, sobs still tearing from her throat. Sinking down on the bed, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose, avoiding the sight of the dead items in the middle of the bed.

  Suddenly her lap was full of purring cat. She blinked, stared down at it, a long-haired white Persian, perfectly groomed. Big blue eyes looked up at her, full of sympathy. She found herself stroking the cat with one hand, even as she slid the pockets of her robe behind her knees so the creature couldn’t get at them or their contents.

  I am Tuckerinal. That is my mated name. My mate is a female fey-coo-cu native to Amee. Her name is Sinafinal, and she is Alexa’s companion.

  Something the women hadn’t told the twins.

  There is much to say and talk and discuss when a new one of you comes, Tuckerinal chided in an arrogant cat-tone.

  Bri sniffed tears away, grabbed tissue and mopped up.

  I came to say hello to the other Exotique Medica, Bri-Brigid. Hello. He smiled a winning smile, revved the purr.

  “Hello, Tuckerinal,” she said thickly.

  We give our names only to the Exotiques and their mates. He stood, circled her lap, kneaded her thighs a little, then curled up again. You may call on us any time. Sinafinal likes to take more shapes than me.

  Bri found no reasonable, let alone brilliant, answer.

  When Marian gathered the magic to raise her Tower, she gave me excess and I grew and became a fey-coo-cu. Before, my name was Tuck. He butted her hand and she rubbed behind his ears.

  Marian. Tuck. Hamster cheek pouches. It made sense.

  Coughing, she asked, “You really came to greet me?”

  Elizabeth was worried about you. She thought you might wander the streets.

  Just as she’d been about to do. She lifted her chin. “She didn’t say anything about that to me.”

  Tuckerinal smiled a catlike smile, eyes twinkling. I know English and Lladranan and Exotiques and Lladranans and I like to explore. I can accompany you.

  That sounded…okay.

  Then he burped, sent a glance at her destroyed PDA and cell.

  The penny dropped. “You knew from Elizabeth that I had more good stuff than she did.” Bri stood up and dumped the cat.

  It growled, sat, shot a leg up to groom in disdain.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s why you came.” She paced to the window, back to the bed, to the window. People were out on the street, going about their business. She had to get out.

  “You owe me—” She turned and looked at the bed to find all the remnants of her electronics gone and a miniature greyhound watching her.

  Her legs gave out. She grabbed the desk chair and sank into it. Rubbed her eyes. “Oh, man.”

  I am not a man. I am a magical fey-coo-cu, and I do owe you. A pink tongue came out and swiped his muzzle. Your nuts were most tasty. More wonderful Songs. He rippled out a few ringtones, The Ride of the Valkyrie, the themes from James Bond and Harry Potter.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  We say, “By the Song.” I do owe you, and Elizabeth, too. She cried when Cassidy said something. Bri figured that Elizabeth had kept a voice message of Cassidy’s.

  The little greyhound was there at her feet, a paw stretching to touch her knee.

  “I want to go home,” she demanded.

  Tuckerinal’s paw withdrew. You cannot. Not until the Snap.

  “Fulfilling the task that brought us here.”

  Curing the sickness. Helping the Cities and Towns be a part of all Lladrana. I will think on what I owe you, but tonight we will adventure together, yes?

  Bri studied the walls of the room, noticed that the trim was not a deep maroon but more like another shade of purple. Yellow sunlight slanted through the wide windows. There were people to watch, things to learn. Her feet itched.

  She stared hard at him. “I want your magical word of honor…” Did that sound crazy or what? But the dog lifted a paw as if ready to vow. “That you will not touch my other nuts, um, electronics, my music player and my digital camera, in any way!”

  He blinked. They will die.

  “No they won’t.” She pointed to the pack. “That is solar powered—catches and stores—”

  I know what solar powered is.

  “Don’t you touch it!”

  Giving her a sidelong look, he sniffed at it, looked mournful. This, too, would be good to eat.

  She picked up her pack, took out the tissue, her coin purse, a pen and paper though she usually used her PDA for notes. “You do not touch this, either.”

  He lifted his nose. They will all die eventually.

  “That may be, but you will not eat them.” She had no idea how long the batteries would last. Months? Years? She was excellent at recharging them and had done so the afternoon at Elizabeth’s. They’d been fully charged by the time she and Elizabeth had left for Dad’s birthday party. She thought she’d taken only twenty pictures or so.

  She didn’t know how long the solar panels that would charge the batteries would last.

  I can show things. He wriggled a little, motioned with the lifted paw
and Bri saw a three-dimensional hologram of Tower Bridge of London. Sort of. No road. No river.

  That is Marian’s Circlet Tower.

  “Stop!” Bri made the time-out sign. “Too Much Information. No more.”

  The dog panted. Very well. Shall we go?

  “You didn’t promise. My electronics are very, very important to me, particularly my digital camera. I don’t want you to touch them.”

  He sighed. I will not. Then his ears perked. Though if you WANT to give them to me before they die so I can keep the data, I will be happy to eat them.

  That wrung a half-laugh from her. “Not going to happen.”

  The dog stood, shook himself. Maybe. Maybe not. There was a slyness in his mind tone and his gaze slid away from hers. She remembered with a jolt and a catch of her breath that this world was supposed to have prophecy.

  Shall we go? I will show you the Nom de Nom. It is a good place to start.

  Bri recognized the name, the place where Chevaliers hung out. “All right.” She noticed something else—in all his forms, Tuckerinal was about a foot long. Interesting factoid. “We’ll go. After you promise, you sneaky thing, you.”

  He barked a laughing bark, sat again, balancing on his rump and lifted both paws, dog-as-hamster, she guessed.

  I promise I will not touch any of your toys, the solar powered or the ones with the interesting nuts. He glanced yearningly at her pockets and Bri was faced with a dilemma. Did she take her music player and digital camera with her or not?

  Not the music pod. There were times, like sitting on an airplane and dawdling through airports, when it was worth its weight in gold, but not when learning a new culture. Did this house have a safe?

  Yes, Tuckerinal said.

  With one paw he indicated a colorful yard-square tapestry of town life—buildings and bustling people, just what she wanted to experience. “Go wait for me in the entryway, please.”

  With a sound more mutter than growl the dog walked from the room. The safe was easy to use. When Bri sensed it needed a password Song to complete it, she used “There’s No Place Like Home,” hoping fervently that the fey-coo-cu wasn’t overhearing her thoughts or knew the tune.