A shudder went through the room.
“But why would it leave the gong?” Raine asked.
Luthan said, “I think it was strong from its last feed, the energy of killing a planet, the last of the life force. It arrived here, a miscalculation. Cold, it had to hurry. There might also have been attacks on it from whatever creatures Amee had summoned to defend her. It was not in a hot volcano, but in cool hills. It left the gong. Or—” Luthan’s brows came down “—it thought it would destroy Amee quickly, come back for the gong when everything was dead.”
Staring in fascinated disgust at the gong, Marian said, “Do you think the gong itself can open a dimensional portal?”
Koz answered his sister. “Perhaps, maybe that’s why all the Summonings here to the Temple have been successful. But I think there’s a natural portal at Singer’s Abbey.”
Now everyone looked at him.
Shrugging, Koz continued. “The Singer wouldn’t let me in the Abbey but I could feel the energy.” He rubbed the back of his neck as if hair had risen there. “I’ve learned a lot about interdimensional energy working with placing mirrors on Earth for Bri and Raine.” He gave them a warm half smile.
Marian asked, “Bossgond?”
But the small man was already coming through the crowd, people moving aside from the sheer force of the Powerful aura surrounding him. He was skinny and ugly, but there was no mistaking his magic. He walked right up to the gong and sniffed, backed away without touching it. “Definitely not from Amee.” He coughed. “Older than anything I’ve ever sensed.”
“Well, if the Dark wants the gong, let’s give the thing to it.” Alexa’s smile was fierce.
Everyone shuddered. “Are you crazy?” Marian asked.
“No. Listen to me.” Alexa raised her baton and everyone stepped back. Raine bumped into Faucon and he put his hands on her shoulders, strong and comforting.
“If the gong is that mysterious and dangerous, we should take it with us to destroy it when we blow the island.”
“The Dark will send everything it has after you, all the horrors, the Master, come itself…” Bossgond said.
Alexa said, “That will take time. If the horrors and the Master are busy fighting Marshalls and Chevaliers on the outside of the mountain, and we’re down the old lava tube and inside…”
Raine hadn’t heard any specific plans before, wanted not to know, maybe even to run. Faucon massaged her tense shoulders.
Alexa turned to Marian, whose mouth had dropped open. “You were in the Nest. How much do you think the Dark moves?”
Marian trembled, Jaquar pulled her against his body and wrapped his arms around her, his mouth grim. Then she answered. “I only sensed it. I interacted with the former Master. I don’t know. Perhaps the Dark doesn’t move at all.”
“Can’t be very fast.” Alexa flipped her baton. Fire in her eyes, she looked at Luthan. “You’ve been having a lot of visions about the battle and the outcome, I know, and you don’t tell me hardly anything, but tell us all this. What’s the percentage of times that the Dark slithers away from that battle?”
Luthan hesitated, and the silence in the Temple was complete, only the faint tinkle of water from a small fountain breaking it.
“Luthan?” Alexa prompted.
“In all the times I’ve had the visions, the Dark has only escaped twice.” His lips went grim an instant before he went on. “Most of the time it is destroyed, in slightly less of the visions it is damaged for eons.”
“So we take the gong.” Alexa nodded decisively. Despite her smile and the bursting of the top of her baton into flames, she put her free hand in her husband’s and her words echoed hollowly around the room.
There was cheeping and flapping and the three birdlike feycoocus circled down to land on the frame surrounding the gong.
We can hide the gong from the Dark and will take charge of it during the final spell, Sinafinal said. We will put it in a crevice. The Dark will go after it, not you.
There was silence, then Marian said, “Fine.”
The feycoocus whistled approval and flicked their wings.
Raine felt Alexa’s optimism, that of everyone else in the room. But it was hope. At the core was the lingering knowledge that those who went into the battle could all perish.
Singer’s Abbey
The next morning Jikata was in the practice room that was good for “creating” spells. She snorted. She thought the Singer just liked moving her around, keeping her off balance, though it was true that the colorful wallpaper in this room was studded with Power crystals as part of the pattern. She’d never seen the like either here or on Earth. The whole place gave her a buzz.
She was becoming accustomed to the buzz or hum or melody or her whole damn life-soundtrack of Power, tried to be blasé about it and thought her manner covered a lot of the daily surprises. Keeping the Singer and her Friends off guard.
She smiled.
One of the windows had an excellent view of the horse and volaran stables down the way, which she studied. She still hadn’t been outside the Abbey walls, met any of the flying horses that Chasonette told her were telepathic, and yearned to. Jikata was getting restless, like some internal clock was counting down.
Despite the warm tones of great Power that imbued the chamber, she felt isolated. As isolated here as at home in the States. She just recognized it easier.
Today the knot spellbook was open to a successful harvest, one that prayed for good weather, no accidents with sharp implements. She shook her head. She knew precious little about harvest.
Yet as she scanned the spell, she recognized it was a good one. Simple. Strong. Essential.
Idly, she turned the pages, stopped when words caught at her. “To Summon Friends.” Her heart picked up a beat…dared she? She had no idea when the Singer would appear, always a power play, or whether she’d be Singing with the others. The harvest spell could be Sung by as little as one “of the Singer apprentice level”—and that word still stung—or “a chorus of ten good voices.” If organizing meetings here was anything like on Earth, it wasn’t surprising that knot spell casting had faded away for simpler methods.
To Summon Friends. Again she studied the large window empty of anyone she knew, anyone familiar with who she was. Not Jikata the popular singer so much as Jikata the Earthling. Alexa had welcomed Marian warmly and Jikata thought Alexa would do the same for her. From what Jikata had read in Marian’s book, curiosity was a driving force and might be counted upon to bring her.
The spell would “call to” three friends—which three of the five Exotiques? Alexa and Marian, since Jikata knew them better because she’d read of them? Who else? Wouldn’t it be interesting to find out? The knot needed blue floss ranging from dark blue to sky blue, six stranded silk. She opened a small cabinet and pulled out a drawer. Her hand went to the mixed blue, the exact shades.
She glanced at the text—the amount of floss needed was a wrist length. She lifted a skein.
“If you attempt that, they may knock at my walls,” the Singer said.
Jikata flinched inwardly, smoothed her face into a mask. She put the floss back into its proper place, pushed the drawer into the cabinet and turned to meet the Singer.
She stood on the threshold, hands folded at her waist, a frown between her brows. Her eyes were calculating, head tilted as if she examined Jikata’s Song—sensing restlessness? Jikata hoped not, she was in charge of her own life. “Ayes?” Jikata raised her brows.
The Singer glided forward. Jikata stood her ground. The Singer didn’t even glance at the book before humming one note. Pages flipped back to the harvest lesson. She took her usual throne seat, this one was wooden and brightly gilded, the cushions a deep, rich brown.
“Should you Sing that spell and knot that knot, then release it, the other Exotiques will be knocking at my walls. You have much to learn, are not ready to leave.”
The more the Singer said that, the more Jikata disagreed.
“You have not finished the Lorebooks?” the Singer asked.
“I’m reading Marian’s,” Jikata said.
The Singer’s head turned sharply, then she hesitated.
Something was in Marian’s Lorebook—Jikata would have to read faster.
Lifting and dropping one shoulder in an overly casual manner, the Singer said, “The Exotiques have agendas.”
Who didn’t?
For an instant there seemed to be the sound of multiple voices in the back of Jikata’s mind, but they faded, along with the impulse to be with them.
The Singer’s lips tightened, then she said, “Luthan has been deleterious in his reports.” She turned to Jikata and repeated, “The Exotiques have their own agenda regarding you.” The Singer smiled and it wasn’t nice. “You will be ready for your task when I say you are ready.”
She waved a hand and the door opened, the boys and women who approximated the Exotiques surged in, varying expressions of concern on their faces. For her? Or for the Singer? Perhaps these, too, were friends. She’d worked with them and valued them, treating them well. As the Singer hadn’t.
Whether they were friends or not, they were only “a good chorus of voices.” They could never be the quality and strength and the Power of the Exotiques.
Jikata was sure that the Singer wouldn’t let her go until the Exotiques demanded her for “their agenda.” Then Jikata would feel like a commodity, as she had a few times before in her life. She hadn’t liked it.
No.
She could cast the knot spell to bring friends—strangers who could be friends—but, no. This was her life and she would take action.
She smiled a true welcome to the other singers, turned a false one on the Singer, who studied her, nodded complacently. Was this why the Singer’s Thomas had returned to Earth? Had the Singer always been so sure of herself, misread people of Earth background? Hadn’t worked to understand them? Sad.
The Singer Sang the first line of the knot spell and the cabinet opened and strands of living green and rich dirt brown and straw yellow floated out and settled on the book. Jikata hit her cue along with the others and she Sang.
And plotted.
24
Marshalls’ Castle
Making love to Faucon all night long had been simply delicious. He’d had a little leftover wildness from the battle, from the triumph of stopping the horrors and raising a fence post, and Raine had loved every energetic moment of it. Every slide of body against body, every rough word and urgent demand.
Raine smiled and stretched against fine linen sheets. Delicious. She blinked at the light in the room. Another sunny day, and that was reason for smiling, too.
The door swung open and Faucon walked in with a tray that smelled of ham and eggs and warm toast from fresh bread that had Raine’s mouth watering. “Hey, sexy,” she said.
He looked a little startled, then put an extra swagger in his step. His chest and feet were bare, the lower half of his body encased in black leather pants.
“Breakfast for us both.” He set the tray over her lap, settled beside her against thick pillows, grabbed a piece of toast and a fork and ate some scrambled eggs.
They ate companionably. This felt simply right to Raine. She was tired of thinking about the future, worrying about it, letting it shadow her. She’d deal with it when it came.
She sipped orange juice, let it lay on her tongue to savor the sweetness. Even here at the Castle, orange juice was rare, but Faucon was a merchant prince. Though he looked more like a scruffy rogue with his light beard, longish tousled hair and worn leathers.
He drank from his crystal goblet, sent her a sideways glance. “Last day of trials today.”
A piece of ham got caught in her throat. She swallowed it down. “Then what?”
“Alexa and the rest are impatient to move north.” He cleared his throat, seemed to study the brownness of his toast. “They ‘won’ the discussion with the Circlets and the invasion will leave from my northern estate, Creusse Landing.”
He’d hadn’t mentioned the ship.
“Especially now that I’m fine-tuning the ship’s design.”
“Especially that,” he agreed. “It will be easier to gather people and supplies in one place.” He frowned. “Though I think it will take folk here a little more time to get ready than they anticipate.”
“A few days, then?”
“Ayes.”
Raine considered that. Her time at Faucon’s castle in the south was over. She should have been ready for that change. It never seemed as if she was. After a long breath in and out, she said, “I’d like to go to the manor first, look around without so many people.”
Faucon shoved the tray to the bottom of the bed, took her hand, rolled close, stared into her eyes and kissed her lips. Tender. Supportive. “I thought you would.”
“I’ll leave after breakfast.” She looked around the room. She hadn’t unpacked. Just as well. “Do you have to stay?”
“It might be better,” he said, lifted her fingers to his mouth and kissed them again. His gaze was steady on hers. “But I’m also tired of being away from you.”
She smiled and that, too, felt real and right, then kissed him. “It won’t be for very long. We’ll be together soon.”
The alarm sounded and they both tensed, but it only indicated that the trials would start shortly.
She pushed him onto his back, crawled on him and rubbed her body against his, savoring him, too. Then she kissed him deeply, taking his taste into her, and rolled away. “I’ll shower, then I’m gone.” She fluttered her lashes at him. “I think everyone is expecting you at the Landing Field.”
He groaned and subsided on the bed and she laughed.
Raine didn’t say goodbye. As she walked with Enerin puppy to the lower courtyard where Blossom was awaiting her to fly to the north, the crowd at the Landing Field roared with shouts and applause. No need to interrupt the activities with a brief appearance of one who wasn’t a permanent Exotique.
She’d see them in a few days anyway. The corners of her mouth quirked up. She couldn’t escape Exotique togetherness.
She stepped over the security threshold at the gate between the wards and smiled at the guards’ snappy salutes. They met her eyes briefly, then at another eruption of noise their gazes went yearningly to above the Landing Field, where four volarans raced.
One of the guards said, “Friend of ours, just graduated Chevalier class, trying out for the invasion team. She’s good.” He heaved a sigh. “No soldiers on the force…otherwise…”
His companion nodded. “Otherwise…”
Raine felt her smile freeze. She’d just have to get over the casual mention of the invasion and the battle and death it would bring. It was like a ten-ton elephant following her around, or Bri’s roc flying over her head, not something she could ignore. She hitched up her duffel and nodded to them once more. “Good days ahead to you. I have a ship to build.”
“All the luck to you, lady,” one of the guards called, then turned his attention to the air show again.
Blossom trotted to her, then stood as Raine fastened the duffel behind the saddle. Raine hesitated. There was no need to say goodbye physically anyway, when you could do it mentally. Hey, Alexa, I’m off to Faucon’s northern manor.
Immediately Alexa’s attention focused on her. Faucon told us. Keep well. We’ll be there soon. Virtual hugs.
Raine laughed. Virtual hugs back. Which was better since Alexa tended to hug too hard. Love you, Calli and Marian. Those two were at the trials, too.
Love you, Raine, came in stereo from Calli and Marian.
Raine stretched her senses and found Bri between patients in Castleton. I’m leaving for the north, love you, Bri. Just repeating the sentiment warmed Raine, made her smile real.
Love ya. See ya soon, Bri said, then through the common channel added, How’s it going there at the trials, any surprises?
Maybe, again in unison, from Calli and Alexa.
&nbs
p; See you! Raine called.
See you! they all replied.
They didn’t add anything about the ship. Because they fully believed that whatever Raine was doing was right. She understood that from their feelings toward her. They’d never doubted her.
As she and Blossom and Enerin took to the air and flew south and east to prevent any intersection with the Landing Field, she thought of how close she was to these women, sisters she’d never had, instead of brothers. She snorted at the thought of any of them linked up with her brothers. Never would have worked.
She’d bonded with the women and all of them would be on that invasion force. She loved them, a blessing and a curse.
Then she turned her face and Blossom to the west so she could taste the sea air.
Singer’s Abbey
Jikata ate lunch alone with Chasonette on the balcony off her sitting room. After ensuring no one could overhear them, Jikata said, “So, what do you think of Singer’s Abbey?”
Chasonette stopped parading along the thick rail. It is pretty but boring. Not much to see or do. I have perched on all the spires and weather vanes and towers and looked at all the views.
Jikata nodded. “I think I’ve had enough of the views myself, and it’s time to move on.”
The bird swivelled her head, fixed a gleaming yellow eye on Jikata. We are leaving? The Singer won’t like that.
“It’s not the Singer’s life, it’s mine.”
It’s everyone’s.
“Do you want to expand on that comment?” Jikata asked.
Chasonette rippled her comb. No. She turned so her tail was toward Jikata. When do we go?
“Tomorrow evening. That will give us time to prepare. I’ll walk the perimeter this evening, check out the walls and find the best place to go over them.” She considered her companion. “You can scout for me, go farther afield than the Abbey.” The psychic shielding on the walls let in creatures and humans that meant no harm to the Singer, so they shouldn’t be any deterrent to getting out, either. Jikata didn’t think the Singer had a clue that Jikata might want to leave.
Echoes in the Dark Page 23