I will look for a good clearing. Chasonette groomed her upper wing feathers. You can call a volaran and it will come and pick us up for the flight to the Marshalls’ Castle.
Jikata’s breath came in sharp. She hadn’t thought too much about going to the Castle. Where others would be the stars of the show. That didn’t matter as much as meeting all these people and seeing their expectations of her in their eyes.
Since all the others had been brought for a specific task, it was only logical that she had been, too.
To help Amee, to destroy the leech that Alexa and Marian called the Dark in their books. Finally she would have time to read the books and discern what was ahead of her. She was sure there would be specifics.
“I’m not ready to go to the Castle. I want some time to myself. If a volaran will only take me to that Castle, I don’t want one yet.” Liar.
A while back she’d gone to the western gate, the simplest path that led to the volaran stables, corrals and landing field. The gate was two hefty pillars at the ends of high stone walls with an equally tall iron gate and an always staffed little sentry box. The gatekeeper had put on a pleasant smile but shifted into a militant stance that set him solidly in front of the gate when she’d spoken to him. His action told Jikata that before he became a Friend he was a warrior.
Jikata was fascinated with the flying horses, who wouldn’t be? When she was high in one of the Singer’s towers, she could sometimes see them outside the window, sometimes soaring alone, sometimes with a person winging away. The idea of flying on a volaran tempted her.
She’d once had a relationship with a third-generation California rancher, but she’d been on her way to the top and he’d wanted someone who’d fit her life to his. Wasn’t meant to be and she thought they both regretted that. But she’d learned to ride and acquired some knowledge of horses. Enough that she’d made owning a horse property one of her wishes to fulfill once she made it to the top and could spend a decent amount of time with them.
So she had questioned the gatekeeper guard about volarans. He’d eased, but didn’t move from the gate. He’d been a Chevalier, sworn to a noble lady who’d fallen—he’d gone mum. Then he’d switched back to volarans, talking about their intelligence, their mindspeech, mentioned that great changes had come when Exotique Calli had been Summoned, then frowned at himself and made busy work, waving Jikata away.
She told him that the Singer had discussed the Exotiques with her and the man’s expression had relaxed, but she’d known she wouldn’t get any more out of him and had left.
But the Singer’s volarans might not let her fly with them, and others might take her to where she didn’t want to go, yet. She had no idea how much they would obey her, consider her wants.
An incredulous Chasonette was staring at her. Not want a volaran? Her beak clicked. How will we get to the Castle then?
Jikata raised her brows. “Walk?” Though she’d never liked hiking and would have given a lot to have had her Mercedes here. Absurd idea. She hadn’t even shipped it to the spa.
For a moment she recalled “Club Lladrana” and had a vision of one of those party-colored golf carts with a fringe canopy in hot pink. She chuckled, then put aside fancy for reality. “I know there’s a village to the north. I can hire horses or a carriage or perhaps a volaran. I have jewelry I can sell.”
With a whir of feathers Chasonette was gone, bulleting toward the north, to the Castle? To whom? “Wait!”
I will return by tomorrow evening.
Jikata snorted. It wasn’t a sound she often made, but it was satisfying. So she did it again.
So much for companionship. She allowed herself a scowl.
25
Creusse Landing
Even with Distance Magic, it took Blossom, Raine and Enerin a while to reach Faucon’s northern estate. It was a beautiful summer’s day, warm and sunny and with a breeze that brought the scents of the changing land beneath them as they flew above trees, flowers, growing crops. There was the richness of turned earth, a whiff of animals and manure: cattle, sheep, pigs.
They flew due west toward the ocean until the sea breeze and the taste of salt was in the air. Then followed the coast until they were flying over the large bay that curved into Lladrana.
Raine was familiar with the coastline from the maps, and from working with the ponds on the southern estate, and dismissed the Distance Magic bubble so she could see the shape of the land where she’d raise the ship and from which the force to destroy the Dark’s Nest would sail. The estate was on the southern coast of the last part of Lladrana that jutted into the ocean, so they would actually have to sail around land before they set course to the Dark’s Nest. They. Her stomach jittered as she realized she was thinking of captaining the boat herself.
It was just projecting herself into the mind of those—or he, or she—who would sail the ship, visualizing the coast. In any event, that first turn around the bulge of land would shake down the crew and the people on the boat. She shook her head. How would restless Alexa cope with hours onboard a ship?
But a ship was the way to go. It could carry stores and the people and volarans and they’d be fresh for the battle of their lives. Everyone seemed to think that the Dark would notice a massive flight of volarans arrowing to it over several weeks.
The ship wasn’t going to be small, more like a galleon or a man of war than a graceful schooner, but Raine would guarantee that it would go faster than the volarans, using the Power stones and the wind Amee would fill the sails with.
Then Enerin cawed, lifted herself from the bag she’d been traveling in and launched herself off Blossom. Raine looked down to see a pretty U-shaped manor house of cream-colored stone, the long bottom of the U faced southeast to the ocean. The landing field was to the east along with several other out-buildings, and a lot of people.
When they circled down to a newly expanded landing field she noted busy activity in setting up more corrals and storage sheds.
Corbeau hurried up, lines in his face smoothing as he met her. He grasped her hands and she heard the beat of his blood that held a note of the sea, just as her blood and her Song—and Faucon’s—did.
“Welcome to Creusse Landing. It’s good to see you again, Seamistress Exotique.”
“You’re back already.”
“I left shortly after you did, but came here.” He glanced around, forehead wrinkling. “Much to be done if we’re going to house an invasion force and stage the debarkation.” Then he turned his attention back, leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll show you Faucon’s and your suite, introduce you to my family and the staff.” Another frown and he took her arm in a firm grip. “The Exotiques came last year and very few of our people had the repulsion reaction.”
Raine tensed. She knew the man who’d stalked her was unusual in letting that emotion rule his actions, but this was another reason she was wary in meeting other people.
The Castle was free of those who had that reaction, or, like Luthan, they’d grown out of it or mastered it. In Castleton, she’d only met that one.
But Corbeau flashed her a smile and patted her hand on his arm. “I let everyone know the place would be teeming with Exotiques and encouraged those who wouldn’t be comfortable with you to go.” He shrugged a large shoulder. “Gave them a little settling money along with about twenty different rumors as to what would be goin’ on here.”
“Thank you.”
So she met Corbeau’s wife, who carried a baby on her hip and eyed her warily….A lot of people were being brought onto their land, necessitating a lot of work, Raine got that, so Raine was especially polite to her. Raine winked at the baby, who reached for her hair and pouted when his hands snatched air.
That made the woman’s lip twitch and she hitched him over her shoulder. “I’ll show you to the Master’s Suite.”
Realization struck. It wasn’t just that Raine was a stranger, it was that Raine was Faucon’s lover. Despite Corbeau’s words, she hadn’t absorbed t
he fact that he—they? how many people?—considered her and Faucon a pair. Raine’s heart leapt and she understood some other things. She liked being thought of as Faucon’s lover, a woman he cared for. More, she had to squash a little slice of glee that she was Faucon’s Exotique, not Elizabeth. Elizabeth had never been here.
So she walked through the house that was dappled with sunshine shafting in from large windows, and up polished wooden stairs passing a yelling bunch of children coming down. She paused and stared.
Corbeau’s wife laughed. “No, they’re not all mine, but the staff’s, and another cousin of Faucon’s lives here with her husband.” Her gaze went serious. “Do you worry about that?”
Raine shrugged. “It’s his home, or rather yours.” She smiled. “Faucon prefers Creusse Crest.”
The woman sighed. “Petty of me to be glad of that, but I am.” She looked around her home. “I love this place and have been the mistress of it for many years.”
“Your care for it shows,” Raine said. “Like your love for the children showed.”
“Thank you.” She led Raine up another flight to the third floor and toward the middle of the hallway, then opened the door. No sunshine here, for all that the room had French doors and was bright with cream-colored paint. The suite faced east, inland, and would let in morning light. Sunrises would be magnificent from the long balcony beyond the windows.
“We keep this for Faucon. It has a sitting room and even a bath with a tub. No hot springs here.” A little huff of breath. “Still miss that since I came from the other estate.” She shook her head. “Maybe that’s why Faucon likes that place.”
“He likes the castle,” Raine said without thinking about it.
Corbeau’s wife laughed. “Indeed he does, and those dramatic cliffs of his. The land slopes nicely to the ocean here. The beach is better, less rocky, but as a dock and port, not as good.” She waved to the room. “Make yourself at home.” Then the woman went outside the rooms and shouted. “Corbeau, you coming with that bag of the lady’s?” Again the woman shook her head. The baby imitated her, cooing. “That man enjoys all this bustle.” Her black-eyed gaze met Raine’s. “But it’s a hard thing we prepare for, and glad we are that we’re staying behind.”
The light in the pretty chamber seemed to dim. “I understand perfectly,” Raine said.
Corbeau hurried in with Raine’s duffel, put it gently on the bed that looked to be larger than a California king, but then the Lladranans were larger, too. Raine thought she saw a little color under Corbeau’s cheeks, making them peachy. “Got caught up in a discussion about where to raise the Ship.”
His wife tsked. “You all have been talking about that for days.” She glanced at Raine. “Do you need a personal maid?”
“No, thank you,” Raine said.
Corbeau slanted Raine an apologetic glance. “We’re still considering the best place to raise the Ship. Were, before I left, and I used the crystal a few times, too. We think the little cove with the long beach—”
“Didn’t you decide that was too narrow? Let the girl freshen up, rest a little. Then you can show her the spots. She’s the Exotique Seamistress, she’ll know what’s what.” With that unstated acceptance of Raine, the woman turned to leave, and Corbeau followed. The baby twisted and looked at her with big, round eyes, before his mother gently shut the door.
Raine hopped up to sit on the firm bed, wriggled her butt. Faucon liked his beds softer, so did she. Yet he hadn’t had it changed. Ayes, he preferred his southern estate.
The people who’d just left were good, solid folks, like the majority of Lladranans must be. Raine had fallen in with the most adventurous, the warrior and noble class, and she sensed that class knew exactly what kind of folk they were fighting for. People like the Corbeau Creusses.
However ordinary the Exotiques had been in their lives on Earth, they’d been Summoned to lead this adventure.
To accomplish great tasks. To build great magic.
To lead others to battle and death.
Marshalls’ Castle
The trials had paused for lunch and Luthan was in the stables, grooming his volaran, Lightning, when a bright red Lladranan cockatoo came soaring in accompanied by two feycoocus in hawk form.
His heart gave a hard thump, then settled back to a slightly speedier beat. It had been unexpectedly difficult to wait until the new Exotique wanted to leave Singer’s Abbey. He’d been to the Abbey several times but hadn’t been allowed to speak with her, had seen her only once. Yet the small mental link between them remained, and the feycoocus had reported of her often.
When he’d seen her, he hadn’t had the revulsion, and he hoped he’d mastered that shaming instinctive withdrawal, but he sensed her Song was yet muted.
The cockatoo lit on the door of the stall next to Lightning’s and ruffled her feathers, then smoothed them. He could have sworn she was smiling. The Exotique Singer wishes to see more of Lladrana. She will leave tomorrow evening when the Singer retires to her chamber for her private time.
Luthan knew the schedule.
You should go and get her, and bring this one, too. Chasonette poked her head more into the stall and chirped at the beautiful buckskin with dark brown mane and tail there.
I can speak for myself, the volaran stallion whickered. In the language of animals and even some bird, though that is not a pleasant-sounding language. I, too, was meant for Jikata, the Exotique Singer. Not only you, pink bird.
Chasonette screeched and flapped her wings, turned and pooped in the stall.
Lightning snorted at the new smell, put his head over his stall. Ayes, bird rude.
Luthan didn’t know if the volarans meant the language, Chasonette, or both. “That’s enough.”
I will carry the lady to the very nest of the Dark, the Exotique’s volaran continued, raising his head. Where will you be, fluffy bird?
With another screech Chasonette took off. I go now to smell the spice of the caves under the Abbey, those that no volaran in memory have been admitted in. I will see you later, riding on Jikata’s shoulder.
It is a trial, sharing feathers with birds. Lightning lipped the fastening of his door and Luthan moved so he could exit.
“I wouldn’t say that within the roc’s hearing,” Luthan said.
His volaran stopped, sidled, no doubt thinking that rocs had considered volarans food. He blew air from his nose. The roc will probably fly to the Dark’s Nest, too. Lightning stepped nervously from the stables.
“Probably.” Luthan rolled his shoulders. He didn’t want to think about the final aspect of the mission, who would destroy the Dark itself—the Exotiques—and who might live and die. He didn’t want to court any more visions of the final battle.
He glanced up at the feycoocu hawks who’d perched on a rafter in the stables. Those magical beings always knew more than they said. He didn’t know if they knew the outcome of the battle, didn’t want to ask.
The Dark almost always dies. Tuckerinal lifted a wing.
That is the important thing, Sinafinal agreed. All other destinies are continually in flux, as you would understand if you accepted your gift.
Once the Exotique Singer is away from the Abbey, it will fall on you to help her with her prophetic gift, Tuckerinal said. He clicked his beak in encouragement. The Exotiques are not the only ones with specific tasks in this matter. This is one of yours. He glided down from the rafter and perched on a post outside the stable. Looking at Jikata’s volaran, he said, We will take care of the gong, then will be down in the Dark’s Nest for the untying of the Weapon Knot, the City Destroyer Spell. I would never desert Marian.
So will I be, said Sinafinal. I will not desert Alyeka. She raised her wings and joined her mate. The future is in flux, some of us will live, and some of us will die.
As long as the Dark is destroyed it is worth it, they said together.
Luthan felt cold. “We must destroy the Dark. I do not want to leave it for the future.” Everything around h
im whispered that there would be no future if the Dark survived.
Singer’s Abbey
That evening Jikata explored the compound with an eye to escape.
The wall was high, and imbued with Power to warn and keep people out, but had no defenses to keep people in. As she strolled she probed the walls’ Power. Their strongest Power was against something Jikata could only think was “the Dark” mentioned in Alexa’s and Marian’s Lorebooks. The songspells for this were keyed to something bigger and meaner than wild beasts and bad humans, something…evil. A cloud went over the sun and the graying of the light caused her to shiver.
She continued her walk along the outside wall. Sometimes buildings abutted it and Jikata noted the ones with a window just above the wall—newer buildings. She also tested her own Power by trying to sense what lay beyond each section of wall. The compound was on a low hill and surrounded on all sides by a cleared area covered with short summer grasses and wild-flowers. Here there was a stand of trees deepening into forest, there the rise of hills, there a road….
If she discounted Amee’s appearance and the looming Dark and only considered the place as if it had been “Club Lladrana,” this had been the best vacation she’d had for years. She’d had her rest, her pampering, her spa time. She’d been treated like a star and been mentally stimulated.
And spiritually renewed. That she treasured even more. The constant music around her had fed her soul. Her subconscious had rested. When she returned to composing, her melodies would be strong and potent.
Her music would be valued here. Everything from simple tunes a person could dance to, to ballads cheerful or sad, to complex pieces, would go over big. As if her compositions had always been more for Lladranan tastes than American ones. She’d miss the technology to manipulate music as she wanted and the huge variation of instruments—strings, winds…
She stood still. Once more she’d been thinking of staying.
Inhaling deeply, she centered herself, felt the wisps of prophecy around her, saw the sparkles in the air, the distinctive crackling of a fire that meant “prophetic Power” to her. Below her was one of the Caverns of Prophecy, seething with wraiths like steam from a hot spring.
Echoes in the Dark Page 24