Keepers of the Flame

by Robin D. Owens

  Again he took her hand and raised it to his lips. “I have every confidence in you.” Stiltedly, he added, “I am sorry that you can’t leave Lladrana.”

  “No, you’re not,” she said flatly.

  “I’m sorry you’re worried about your parents.” Turning her to face him, he went with the complete truth. “I want you in every possible way.”

  When she didn’t answer, he wondered if he’d been clear. She wasn’t Elizabeth, who’d slept with a Lladranan man and knew nuances of the language.

  “I want you, too,” she muttered.

  He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, glad she could admit it. Taking her other hand, he brushed his lips against hers.

  She looked shocked. “In public?”

  A lift and a fall of his shoulder. He didn’t care what others saw, speculated upon. Not in this. He said none of the things racing in his head, expressed none of the feelings beating through his heart. He didn’t want her to know how determined he was to have her. To keep her.

  Letting one of her hands escape, he began to walk, all too aware of her fingers in his, that Powerful, small hand clasped in his. Like the first morning they’d spent together, he listened to her Song.

  It was different.

  The realization jolted, and lifted his spirits, the wings of hope, that perhaps, perhaps, she might stay.

  If he asked her if she wanted to stay, she’d deny it. Such a contrary woman. But not foolish or feckless.

  He couldn’t walk in silence while he considered the change in her Song. A daring idea came to him, and he freed his Song, directed it to her, showed all of himself.

  She stumbled and he righted her, slowed the pace and kept on strolling.

  Her Song had reacted to his, rising high. Her cheeks flushed and her palm grew damp against his. He smiled, settled his own Song, kept it strong and steady, and analyzed hers.

  It was more ebullient.

  He blinked. More! How could that be? Her lifeforce must have been low, her energy depleted when they’d Summoned her, and events had drained her more than she revealed. Could he ever keep up with her? He set his shoulders and his Song reflected intense determination.

  She glanced at him, a little wary.

  She should be. He wouldn’t let her abandon him easily.

  There were other changes in her Song, had been others, now that he compared it over time. There had been a loosening of a tight, minor key melody, anxiety perhaps. She’d have been anxious after the Summoning, then settled in. Now worry tightened that portion of the Song again and he didn’t like it.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  He smiled slowly and she glanced away. He said, “You don’t like the walk or the music?”

  Pink smoothed over her cheeks, fascinating. He squeezed her fingers.

  “Seeing and being seen. Not doing any business tonight,” she said.

  “Perhaps I do conduct a little business during the after-dinner walks. I hadn’t thought of it much.”

  “Because business is duty and you would never shirk your duty.”

  “True,” he said lightly, wrapped her in his Song. “But this walk has nothing of business and duty.”

  She glanced at him, eyes wide and fathomless. Thinking non-Lladranan thoughts when he wanted her concentrated on him. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

  “You’re smothering me with that Song of yours,” she said softly.

  “No, I’m not. You’re free to listen or to shield yourself.”

  “I don’t like to be smothered, controlled. Live up to expectations,” she said sulkily.

  “Who could control you, such a free spirit?”

  Her eyebrows lowered. “Are you mocking me?”

  “Teasing perhaps. Don’t you say I am too serious?”

  “You have a lot to be serious about.”

  “You’re not going to divert me with duty, Bri. Walking with you and listening to your Song, sharing my Song with you, has been nothing but pleasure.” He chuckled. “But I take my pleasures seriously, too. Here we are.” They stood in a small side door to the guildhall. He hummed the pass-spell he’d created and heard the rhythms of it again, felt its beat like a hammer against stone.

  When they entered it was to light. Bri looked up at the ceiling window five stories above them. The rest of the small room was shadowed. A switchback stairway lay ahead.

  He shut the door and turned and pressed her against it. No, he didn’t mind kissing her in public, easy kisses, but what he wanted was more and deeper. For that he wanted privacy so he could savor her. He moved in, his mouth finding her soft lips, tasting her, connecting Song to Song.

  Sensations flooded him as he’d never allowed. He needed the taste and touch of this woman. Infinitely intriguing. It was the last thought he had before he succumbed to passion and pleasure and desire roared in his ears.

  Then he was being firmly pushed away—with Power more than her hands against his chest. She smiled up at him. “You wanted to show me the side entry to the guildhall?”

  His eyes narrowed even as his body pulsed with need. She was flushed, and her Song held arousal, her heartbeat fluttered fast in her throat. She wasn’t rejecting him, exactly. She was…wary. Wouldn’t be controlled by her own passion, let alone another’s. A chuckle rumbled deep in his throat. By the time he was finished with her, she’d be bound to him and Lladrana by a million tiny chains she hadn’t noticed him forging.

  He suppressed the fiery demands of his body, the impatient desire tumbling through his veins. His pants were tight, his fingers shaking, heat slid through him. He ignored it, brushed a barely-purple strand of hair away from her face. Her skin was much lighter than his. He could see her easily in the dim light.

  His hands were around her upper arms, he slid his palms down to her fingers—her limp fingers—squeezed them briefly and kept her left hand clasped in his own as he turned to the stairs. “Up.” The word came out rough.

  “I can tell you are,” she muttered.

  He roared with laughter. Catching her close with one arm, he lifted her off her feet and whirled around in exuberance. He loved her. He knew it, it burst through him, but he was canny enough not to say it.

  He set her feet on the second step of the staircase, released her, patted her bottom, did not let his hand linger on the supple firmness. “Up.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder, a baffled look on her face. “I’m not going to be ravished in your office, am I?”

  He wanted to, oh, yes, the blood pounded through him, swelling his shaft. But now was not the time. Perhaps later, maybe even later tonight, but not now. Her defenses were too high.

  “No,” he said. His office was in his parents’ house. “We’re going all the way up. To the rooftop.”

  Her eyes widened with curiosity, another treat, good. He jerked his chin up. “Go.”

  She turned and ascended the stairs. He had to fist his hands to keep them from the sweet sway of her ass. His vision dimmed a little as his body surged once more.

  The stairs were wide; his former master, the architect of the building, was perspicacious in that. No twisting, narrow staircases for the guildhall, leave that for Castles and warriors. This was a solid building of the merchant class. Up they went, with skylights well placed to show them the way. At the top landing, she waited for him, head tilted as if she was considering his strategy and forming her own.

  Sevair smiled. The lady was spontaneous, more used to abandoning a plan when a new idea came along than sticking to it. He was just the opposite.

  “I don’t know that I like that smile,” she said.

  “Just admiring you,” he replied lightly, unlocked the broad oak door and swung it open. “Let’s admire the view, one of my favorites. I’d like to share it with you.”

  She went out onto the stone walkway around the tiled roof. The parapet came to his waist, higher on her. She turned toward the setting sun and gasped. “It’s a beautiful sight.”


  “Yes.” As he’d anticipated, the sunlight gilded the city, showing orderly streets, verdant parks. The walls, too, looked golden, then the green and gentle hills.

  “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a more beautiful land, and I’ve been to many.” She breathed deeply, smiled. “Nice, clean air, too.”

  “What?”

  Her smile flicked on and off her face, wistful. “The wonders of our world come with a cost. Our air is not clean.”

  How could you have unclean air? He thought of the horrors, how their stench, physical and spiritual, befouled the air. How frinks fell with the rain. Surely they left a smudge, too.

  But the romantic mood he was trying to create was in danger. She’d turned north to the towering mountains with the everlasting snow gleaming on their peaks, appearing pristine.

  Putting an arm around her waist, he moved her more to the west, to the brilliant sunset streaming golds and reds and oranges, a touch of light purple. “Watch the sun set over the city.” He pointed. “Your tower.” Her body lost the droop of depression and set with her usual optimism and vitality. Her Song lilted.

  “My tower,” she said, satisfaction and pride in her tone.

  He’d done a good job on repointing the stones in the days before their trip. The concrete made the small building look whiter, now creamy in the light. A beat of affection for the tower made him blink, as if he’d become attached to the structure as well as his love who lived within. He stilled. Something had changed within him beyond falling in love with his lady. He’d finally let the last of his grief for his lost family go because he was focused more on the future than the past. He’d forgiven them for leaving him. Now he could move away from their house and find his own place. The tower?

  As they watched, the roc rose from her nest and streaked into the sky, more brilliant than the sunset as rays flashed on her gleaming rainbow hues, a myth, a legend. She Sang and the wondrous sound wafted to them. The people walking below stopped to listen.

  Sevair’s arm tightened around Bri’s waist. “You have given a blessing to our city. Thank you.”

  Bri chuckled. “She was here before I came.”

  “She was here because she knew you were coming,” he said. He kissed her temple. “Thank you. She reminds us of all the lovely things in our lives, adds a touch of wonder and magic.” He held Bri as they watched the day fade and the colors of the sunset mute into soft blue and heather. Then darkness fell and the brilliance of the night was upon them with the rich velvet of blue-black sky and shining abundance of stars.

  He whispered a kiss on her head. She sighed, leaned into him, as if appreciating how solid and steady he was. He knew those traits exasperated her when she wanted to fly high and wild like the roc. But those characteristics would lure her back to the nest that he’d craft for her, the life he’d craft for them that they’d share. He could give her these quiet moments of pleasure, and an infinite tenderness along with his love. He could give her wild passion.

  When they left the guildhall, she took him to her bed. Joining with her went beyond his imaginings. Through her he felt that touch of the universe she’d shown others. Even better than the touch of the stars were her soft moans, her quick and nibbling kisses that fired his blood until all he desired was to show her ecstacy. When she cried out and clutched at him, said his name, he thought no other moment of his life had been so good.

  He’d do anything to keep her.

  30

  The sex had been too damn good. Bri had never made love with such a detailed and methodical man before, and he’d applied those qualities to their lovemaking. Simply driven her out of her mind. He proved tough and full of endurance, too. She was a bit sore and used a splash of the healing starstream to ease discomfort.

  It had been lovemaking. They’d gone beyond sex into emotional closeness, caring. He’d whispered his secret name to her, urged her to use it, Vere. She couldn’t wait to share loving with him again, even though she wondered whether she could block feelings for him. She should. Definitely. Because she still intended to go home and make a new life, surrounded by family, encouraged by the support of her parents.

  She checked her arm and was glad there was no symbol of his, nor had Elizabeth had one from Faucon. Bri didn’t speak of the matter to Elizabeth and though her twin was aware of what happened, she didn’t ask Bri about Sevair. Elizabeth wasn’t one to often hide from a problem, but she was doing a good job of it now. As was Bri.

  Bri understood Lladranan much better, people’s Songs were clearer, the healing went better, faster.

  Their parents had returned home and no word had come from Bossgond about a successful message being sent. Worse, the lull between battles had ended, with three incursions between that day and the next. When the battles were done a Chevalier would sicken and die in hours, painfully. No cure had been found for that disease, and everyone feared that it would spread. Morale was low, the Exotiques showing the most strain.

  The next several days wound Bri’s and Elizabeth’s nerves tight. No word about their parents. The alarm claxon rang daily. Much to the disapproval of Zeres, Nuare, and Sevair, Bri felt the need to be close to Elizabeth and moved back to the Castle and shared the tower room with her. Elizabeth herself spent most nights with Faucon. Elizabeth’s features became tight and drawn. She looked worse than when she’d been an intern.

  Bri went through the days like a zombie, false smile twitching on her lips when someone smiled at her. Polite but withdrawn. Only when she snatched an hour of sex with Sevair or flew with Nuare could she forget that her parents were desperate. She and Elizabeth became closer. With that came the echoing Song of their grieving parents that they could sense across dimensions.

  They kept the afternoon office hours, and Bri lingered to sit with Zeres and listen to his tales of times past. He’d moved into a tavern close to the inn, Bri’s stipend paying for his room and board. He seemed to be drinking less. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t expect her to socialize with him, talk or pretend to be happy.

  Finally, finally, Marian requested Bri and Elizabeth come to Bossgond’s island. Faucon and Sevair insisted on coming, too.

  Soon they were confronting the old stick of a man who was the most Powerful Sorcerer in Lladrana. He let Marian do the talking. “Paper hasn’t worked. When messages were inserted into the Dimensional Corridor, they were just blown away. Who knows where they went?” She met their gazes in turn. “You must understand that we just can’t lob objects in there. Who knows what will happen!” She glanced at her husband. “Neither Jaquar nor myself can control the winds in the Dimensional Corridor from here.” She added stiffly, “We don’t have the time or the means to enter the corridor ourselves without calling on a full circle of the Tower Community. Resources are at a premium.”

  “Have you seen them!” Bri demanded, glared at the scrawny old geezer. He glanced away.

  Elizabeth gripped Bri’s hand hard.

  “They…are not doing well.” Marian swallowed, met Bri’s eyes, then turned to Elizabeth. “They seem to think you’ve been kidnapped and they’ll receive a ransom note.”

  “We aren’t rich, but we’re well connected,” Elizabeth said. “Most notably to Judge Trenton Philbert III. You’ve met him.”

  Marian winced. “After Alexa went missing.”

  “He won’t be pleased we’re gone.” Bri showed her teeth. “He’s our father’s best friend, an honorary uncle.”

  Bossgond uncrossed his arms, spoke for the first time. “Hostile.”

  “Ayes. Yes!” Bri said. She pulled her hand from Elizabeth’s to slap it onto her chest. “You see what the loss of us is doing to them. Well, we feel it. Our parents. Daddy…Mommy….”

  Sevair stepped up behind her, drew her into his arms. She couldn’t deny him, liked his support and touch, was torn.

  Faucon slipped an arm around Elizabeth’s waist. She’d gone pale. No one spoke for a full minute. Then Marian said, “We know this is hard.”

 
“Should have considered that before you Summoned us.”

  Marian send a glance to Jaquar. He said smoothly, “The Song reaches those who are best for the task, and who might stay. We did not specifically know who you were.”

  Bri just snorted.

  Marian inhaled, let her breath out slowly. “We are working on a solution. Trying our best.” She hesitated.

  “What?” Bri demanded.

  “If you’re still emotionally connected—”

  “Oh, we are,” Elizabeth said as Bri laughed harshly.

  “Then perhaps you can be hypnotized to send them a message emotionally…”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth, ready to reject. Bri squeezed her twin’s hand. “We’ll try anything.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth agreed.

  So they were settled into the softly carpeted and pillowed conversation pit. Faucon and Sevair were banished from the room so the twins could concentrate. Marian, Jaquar and Bossgond sat at equidistant points around them. The twins half reclined, half sat on the pillows. Excellent feather pillows, Bri thought hazily as the Circlets Sang.

  To her amazement, and Elizabeth’s equal surprise, a foot-long hamster was positioned so they could easily see him. Tuckerinal. Look into my eyes, he said.

  Bri did. They swirled with colors, not as rich and sparkling as Nuare’s, but fully as Powerful. That was the last thing Bri was aware of until she found a portion of herself in the Dimensional Corridor, with Elizabeth floating beside her. Her parents were sitting on the couch in the living room holding hands.

  Bri bit her lip at the sight of them, exhausted, with lined faces. They cuddled in each other’s arms, turning to each other for comfort. Her eyes stung. Facing adversity together, as always.

  Oh, look at them, Elizabeth choked.

  Nodding, Bri said, Let’s do it. We only have to convince them that we are safe in an unusual place.

  Huh, Elizabeth said.

  So they did. Bri knew she’d never projected an idea so hard in her life.

  Her father shifted, tilted his head. “Did you hear that?”