Keepers of the Flame

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Keepers of the Flame Page 34

by Robin D. Owens


  No, he already has some sort of location mirror to lock onto my apartment.” A mental shrug. I have no idea how it works.

  Sounds good. Bri hated the night. Hated sleep, even with Sevair’s arms around her. Even after lovemaking.

  He won’t be here until very late.

  That didn’t bother Bri. Still fine with me. When?

  There was a little hesitation. Would you spend the night with me here in my tower suite?

  Bri sniffled. I’d love to.

  I want to be near you, just tonight. Sisters. Twins.

  Me, too.

  So Bri explained to a scowling Sevair that it was a twins-only night together. He didn’t like it and that actually cheered Bri. The man was not too good to be true. They argued with some heat before he remembered her condition and grudgingly gave way. She kissed him, grabbed her solar backpack and all her remaining goodies and flew with Mud to Castleton.

  They ate chocolate—Elizabeth still had more than Bri—took turns listening to Bri’s music player, sang silly songs and did a few gentle dances together.

  It was late, near 2:00 a.m., when Koz strummed the doorharp and knocked. The door opened and Elizabeth saw him. “Finally,” she grumbled. She and Bri had been dozing on the love seat, tilting toward each other.

  Koz smiled. “That’s a lovely sight.”

  “Huh,” Bri stood and stretched, a little too pale. Elizabeth’s heart squeezed. She hoped Koz wouldn’t notice.

  But Bri had a diversion ready. She reached into her pack and pulled out gold-foiled candies. “Want some chocolate?”

  Koz’s eyes sharpened, his teeth gleamed in a smile and Elizabeth realized the light had dimmed in the room—after she and Bri had stopped speaking and fallen asleep. “Lights.” The room brightened. Bri grunted.

  A chocolate nugget disappeared in Koz’s mouth.

  “Have you got the stuff?” Bri said, then giggled, not quite the usual Bri giggle, but Koz shouldn’t notice that. “I always like saying that.”

  Elizabeth relaxed at Bri’s cheerful tone. Bri was feeling upbeat. This would all be easier.

  “Brilliant,” Elizabeth said, looking expectantly at Koz.

  He didn’t answer, merely opened a belt pouch and brought out a thick wad of velvet which he put on the nearby dining room table and began to carefully unfold.

  “Koz?” Bri asked.

  “Enjoying chocolate here,” he mumbled thickly and Elizabeth understood he was letting the candy melt in his mouth, not chomping it down, demonstrating patience and sensuality. Too bad neither of them had fallen for him. He deserved a good woman.

  A minute later two hand-sized mirrors were revealed.

  Koz swallowed, gave a little moan, shook his head, sighed. “Don’t know if I’ll ever ask for that again. The taste buds aren’t used to it and that makes the experience all the more intense. When that candy’s gone, it’s gone.” He grimaced, a corner of his mouth lifted. “Like the nuts by the way. Thanks.”

  Touching one of the mirrors, Bri cocked her head at Koz. “I didn’t think they made magic mirrors so small.”

  “They don’t. I do.” He grinned, tucked his thumbs into his belt. “Revolutionized the process—which is progressing fast and cutting edge for this culture, don’t think anyone understands that. Good people, mirror magicians.” Nodding at the mirrors, he said, “Think of them as cell phones. One for each of you. They’ll tune to your personal Song as you use them.”

  Elizabeth picked up the other. It reflected her face and the room darkly.

  “It’s not a real mirror,” Bri said.

  “Of course it is,” Koz said. “It just doesn’t show what’s around you, but is linked to a different place.”

  “My place?” Elizabeth asked.

  “How do we activate it?” Bri asked.

  “Bossgond can occasionally transfer an object to and from Earth.” Koz waved a hand. “It depends on the cycles of the Dimensional Corridor, which is shifting by the way, soon to close between here and there.”

  “We know.” Elizabeth couldn’t keep the sharpness from her tone. That had been mentioned in the Exotique Lorebooks, but no one had spoken of it to her or Bri.

  “Right,” Koz said. “Bossgond’s the only Circlet who knows the cycles, but the Singer knows, too. She was the one to tell the Marshalls the day to Summon Alexa. Anyway, Bossgond got a large magical mirror into your empty apartment. He says empty is easier and best, though he tried several times. That’s the first. If it works, we’ll try to put one in your folks’ place.”

  “Oh.” Bri sat down all the way to the floor. She cupped the mirror in her hands, held it close to her chest.

  Elizabeth’s knees felt weak and her eyes watered. Koz took her hand, eased her and himself to the floor, too, with him between Bri and her. He pulled Bri’s hands gently away so the surface of the mirror could be seen by all of them, gestured for Elizabeth to angle her mirror the same.

  “Let’s see if it works.” He was tense. “Tap the mirror and say ‘abracadabra.’”

  37

  “Abracadabra!” Elizabeth looked at him.

  “What? You wanted ‘open sesame’?” He lifted and dropped a shoulder. “They’re my mirrors. I wanted something easy for us, the Exotiques, to remember but hard for the Lladranans.” Another shoulder twitch. “Security measure.”

  “Good idea,” Elizabeth approved.

  “Colorado time’s a couple of hours behind us, so your apartment will be empty. All to the good.”

  “It will be dark, how will we know—” Bri started.

  “Abracadabra,” Elizabeth said.

  But her apartment wasn’t dark. The glow of the lamp on her desk in her living room cast soft light. Elizabeth’s breath caught at the rush of affection for all her old, familiar things. Another life. Another lifetime ago.

  “I didn’t think you left that light on,” Bri said.

  A man groaned.

  It wasn’t Koz.

  “We have audio, too,” Koz whispered proudly.

  Cassidy Jones sank down into the desk chair. He riffled the pages of Elizabeth’s open desktop calendar, as if he’d done it time and again. He propped his head in his hands, despairing.

  “Cassidy!” Bri hissed softly.

  “Him again,” Elizabeth muttered. But her chest tightened.

  “He looks bad,” Koz said in normal tones.

  “Can he hear us?”

  “Safety feature, for not causing folk to think they’re insane,” Koz said. “You have to tap the mirror and say, ‘Testing. Testing. Testing.’”

  “Will someone be able to see us, too?”

  “That’s the idea, though of course we haven’t tried the audio or visual. Gonna take guts on the other side to try that. Looks like you ripped him hard,” Koz said.

  “You have it wrong,” Elizabeth said coolly. “He dumped me and ripped me hard.”

  “Guy got the guts to accept voices from the air?” Koz asked.

  “He couldn’t even believe in my gift for healing and he’s a doctor and saw how I helped. Of course not. I don’t want to talk to him, anyway. Damn man, in my apartment.”

  Cassidy moaned again, whispered, “Where are you, Elizabeth? I’ve checked all Bri’s flaky friends and the refugee camps. You aren’t with Doctors Without Borders or Hospital Ship Hope.”

  The three in Lladrana stilled.

  “Uh-oh, trouble,” Koz said.

  “He’s talking to himself,” Bri said. “The great Cassidy Jones. Not like him.”

  “I have contacts with all the international groups. Where are you, Elizabeth?” He stalked to the mirror. “This is new, a present from your parents? Suits you.” His mouth turned down. “I can almost feel you, Elizabeth.” He shook his head. “I was such a fool.”

  “Sounds like the man has had this conversation with himself before,” Koz said. “Sure you don’t want to try to contact him?”

  “I’m sure,” Elizabeth said.

  “Would he be cruel enoug
h to tell Dad and Mom?” Bri turned wide eyes on Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No, he loves them. He won’t tell them.” She looked at Koz, “How do we disengage?”

  “Tap the mirror and say ‘signing off.’”

  “Signing off.” Elizabeth touched the mirror, watched it fade into darkness, waited for Bri to do the same.

  Her twin stared into the mirror. “I wouldn’t have thought it of him. Who knew?” She shrugged, tapped the mirror. “Signing off.”

  Koz rose easily to his feet and went to the door. He bowed, expression serious. “The mirror magicians and I worked hard on these mirrors. It isn’t Circlet Power like Bossgond’s interdimensional magic. We’ve initiated a link with Earth through your apartment, and intend to send one to your parents’ house. Or maybe we send it to your place and have you ‘call’ them again and take it to their home. You’ll be able to see and talk to them even after the Dimensional Corridor shifts and the portals between our worlds close. Think of that when considering your futures.” Another bow and he was slipping out the door.

  Elizabeth met Bri’s gaze. Koz had meant the little talk to be about the Snap, their choices. That was far outside the orbit of their concerns right now. The only fate they cared about was whether Bri would live or die.

  Carefully, Elizabeth put the mirror in its sleeve. Bri’s eyes were wide and staring. Elizabeth could feel her being sucked into despair. She wouldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t accept that her twin sister would die. Not possible.

  So she put her arms around Bri and kept her safe through the rest of the dark hours of the night. And prayed.

  Bri waited until she knew Sevair had gone to work before she flew back to her tower. She stopped at her bedroom threshold, staring at a plump, foot-long hamster snoozing on the broad ledge of her windowsill.

  A little surge of delight, some fizz of Power, when she saw the magical being. The fey-coo-cus had been absent from the Castle scene for a while.

  When he saw her he rose to his haunches and clasped pink-claw-tipped paws together. His Song, a mixture of classical Earth music and lilting Lladranan notes, pulsed with deep yearning. A tingle ran down Bri’s spine.

  The baby needs good nuts to grow well.

  Bri stared. “Baby.”

  Tuckerinal thrust out his hamster chest. It looked more like his belly. I am a father.

  She grappled with the thought for a minute, caught him staring hungrily at her backpack. Good thing she hadn’t left it. “Um, can’t the Circlets make it good nuts?” Knowing that group, they’d be making atom balls and whatever like mad to feed the new fey-coo-cu and see the results.

  Not the same. The baby needs EARTH nuts, since it is half-Earth.

  She clutched the backpack to her chest. The evil sprout inside her burned. She refused to let it dictate her life.

  Look appealing, Tuck said, and Bri got a jolt when she realized he was speaking to a small shimmer of air beside him. A pinwheel of sparkling rainbow color coalesced and spun rapidly until she looked away. When she looked back, there was a pale pink kitten, half the size of Tuckerinal. It lay curled on the windowsill, then opened blue eyes at her and gave a tiny mew. Hel-lo.

  You see, sh-he does not speak English well.

  “Maybe because it’s a baby.”

  Sh-he is not an it. Sh-he has not chosen sh-he’s sex yet.

  “Oh.”

  The kitten stretched. Clumps of long pink Persian hair were mixed with short hair that seemed to be turning calico: orange, white and black. Bri took a step back.

  Tuckerinal clapped his little paws together, grabbing her attention again. Sh-he needs nuts.

  “That would be my extra PDA batteries.”

  And the camera.

  She put her hands over the pocket holding the camera, protecting it. “No. Not the camera.”

  And memory, too. He raised his nose, pointed at her backpack. You have memory in the yummy bag.

  “I suppose you’d like me to give you this.” The strap was making indentations on her hands. She didn’t relax her grip.

  Squealing, Tuckerinal jumped up and down, his hamster mouth opening in what could be a smile. “Oh, ayes!”

  “Not going to happen. I need it to power the camera.”

  Another mew, this one sounding pitiful. Bri glanced at the kitten. It was now wholly short-haired and calico, with two big splotches of black over its eyes. She pressed her lips tightly together. It looked like a kitten she’d had as a girl. The cat had lived to old age and passed away sleeping in the sun. Ever after, Bri had always wanted to slide into death that way. Seemed she was going to fade agonizingly instead, unless she and Elizabeth found a way to prevent it.

  Maybe these creatures could help. Magical shape-shifters. Feeling weak with hope, she walked to the bed and sat on it, stared at the creatures. Everything she had was worth her life. “What do you know of the disease?”

  Tuckerinal squeaked sadly. Only what all know. And that you have the sickness.

  Bri decided to reply mentally, since her throat was dry. We don’t want anyone else to know that. It is important.

  He made a bow, and it appeared only slightly silly. We have honored your wishes.

  The kitten hopped from the ledge to land on the bed, rolled and rolled, making Bri smile. It tumbled close and she scooped it up, heard dancing windchimes and felt a little zing. The deep ache in her bones vanished for a split second. Interesting.

  Gently, she set the kitten aside. Held out her arms to Tuckerinal.

  He waddled to the ledge, hopped down, rolled once, scuttled to Bri. She picked him up. He was lighter than he looked, weighed less than a groundhog-hamster-whatever should have. She held him, warm and full of that effervescent feycoocu energy, banishing her sickness for a moment as she smudged his Song, drained him for a moment. She placed him on the bed.

  Something about you and the baby stops the sickness in me.

  Good. Learned enough to give the baby nuts? He looked at the small puff of fur. Kitten didn’t move her, try puppy.

  Bri snorted with laughter that became a yelp when Tuckerinal nipped her hand.

  How many nuts do you have?

  You thought I had, what, two?

  Four.

  I have more. She wasn’t about to enumerate them, but she’d added a memory card to her PDA, and carried extra batteries and memory for her music pod and even more for the digital camera.

  A little noise came and Bri glanced over to see a pale pink puppy all long ears and stubby tail, mouth open, tiny tongue lolling, grinning at her.

  She sighed.

  So did Tuckerinal. Sh-he likes pink. Sinafinal and I don’t know why. We believe she has spent too much time in Alexa’s dreams.

  Alexa dreamed in pink? The whole thing made no sense. Bri stood and walked to the wall paneled in exquisitely carved wood. You promised not to eat any of my nuts. Baby must promise, too.

  Baby will promise not to eat any nuts you do not give sh-he.

  The little feycoocu wriggled with joy. Nuts! Nuts! Nuts! Nuts from Tuck-er-in-al’s land!

  Which made Bri wonder if baby got to chose a name, too, or whether sh-he had a name they weren’t telling Bri. Names were power, here. She wondered if the Dark had a name.

  No, Tuckerinal answered her thoughts. The Dark does not have a name, but the new Master does. You should remind Sevair and the others of that.

  Bri made a mental note to do so. She opened the safe and looked into the dim stone square. How much should she give them? How much did the baby need? How much did she need? Last night was the only time she’d listened to tunes lately. The Lladranans prized music so, that she’d thought when she left she’d give Sevair—her bones ached more. Wearied her. She yearned for Denver, missed her parents desperately. The thought of never seeing them again was unbearable. She was sliding into love with Sevair. And all that was moot if she died.

  She sorted through her stuff. The PDA had appointments that had already passed, addresses o
f people who one minute were bright in her memory, then next dim as if she’d left them far behind. All backed up on her laptop. She weighed the PDA in her hand. A good, solid piece of technology. She’d gone with an off-brand for a big screen to read ebooks. She only had four on there now, light pieces she’d downloaded for the trip. There were a few tunes, nothing she couldn’t live without.

  Her hand closed around the padded sleeve tightly. It should be a very good “nut” for the baby feycoocu. As long as she was feeding it, she should feed it well. She scooped out the extra batteries and memory for the PDA, for the music pod. She touched the camera, left it, and the memory. Left her solar-paneled backpack. The feycoocus could have them if….

  Slapping the door to the safe shut, she locked it with a mental password and twist of tune and went back to the bed, set the feast in front of the puppy. Sh-he dived in, burbling as it ate plastic casing and all.

  Bri’s fingers touched stiff foil and she remembered the cat medicine. She popped two. It hadn’t helped but who knew?

  Tuckerinal turned over one of the batteries as if it were something interesting, but his desire for it had faded. He’d been hungry on behalf of his child.

  “Is this enough for sh-he to thrive and prosper?”

  The hamster hesitated, sighed, inclined his head. “Ayes.” His mouth opened and closed. “Since you have helped me I will say that you must not work so hard to find the answer that will come to you if you allow it.”

  Bri wrapped her arms around herself. “There’s hope, then.”

  “There’s always hope. Good hunting.”

  The outside tower door slammed below. Sevair grumbled, We are wanted at the Castle for another damn meeting.

  When she turned back to the bed it was empty of all nuts and magical beings.

  38

  Luthan stood in front of the whole contingent of the Castle—Marshalls, Nobles, Chevaliers, Soldiers and Support Staff. He seemed easy with the fact that every eye was upon him, Elizabeth thought. A natural leader.

  Ttho, Alexa whispered in Elizabeth’s mind. A man always conscious that as a child someone was always watching him and reporting to his father, and his father was judging him.

 

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