Marian Harasta Dumont, Sorceress of Faith. A doctoral student from Boulder, Colorado, has become a Sorceress of the highest order, a Circlet, practicing weather magic and has founded a school with her mentor, Bossgond.
Jaquar Dumont, a Circlet of weather magic.
Koz/Andrew, Marian’s brother from Earth, formerly suffering from multiple sclerosis, he brought wealth with him.
Tuckerinal, Marian’s former hamster, now a magical shape-shifting feycoocu.
Calli Torcher Gardpont, Protector of the Flight, a horse whisperer who now teaches people to partner better with the volarans, winged steeds.
Marrec Torcher, a common man who became noble through his marriage with Calli.
Thunder, Calli’s primary volaran.
Elizabeth Drystan Jones, Keepers of the Flame: Newly certified medical doctor, she was Summoned on the rebound of a broken engagement and had an affair with Faucon.
Brigid Drystan Masif, Keepers of the Flame: Massage therapist, Bri has “itchy feet” and has kicked around the world using her gift of healing hands.
Sevair Masif, a steady and reliable Citymaster, stonemason and architect.
Nuare, a roc who has attached herself to Bri.
Other important characters
Corbeau Creusse and his family, cousin to Faucon, a new Seamaster and the person who runs the northern estate, Creusse Landing.
Lucienne Deauville, matriarch of a Lladranan shipbuilding family.
Marwey and Pascal Raston, Song of Marwey Online Read. Marwey is former assistant to Alexa Fitzwalter and now a Shieldmarshall. Pascal is formerly an impoverished nobleman and Chevalier, and is now a Swordmarshall.
LUTHAN/JETYER CUT SCENE
Robin D. Owens Echoes In The Dark
CUT SCENE. This scene is not in the book. All rights reserved; copyright © Robin D. Owens.The text contained within may not be reproduced in whole or in part or distributed in any form whatsoever OR SOLD without first obtaining permission from the author.
Luthan had felt the desperation of Calli's son, Jetyer, at being left behind when his parents would sail away to invade the Dark's Nest. The boy had been adopted only a year before and still felt unsure of his place in the world. He was old enough and clever enough to try something foolish—like following the rest of the chosen forces and camping out near the manor house, then stowing away on the Ship. Luthan didn't doubt that the boy would be found, but it would cause more emotional ructions and could possibly delay the invasion.
One morning he watched as the boy and his small volaran casually left the Landing Field. It wasn't difficult to find them in a nearby copse, Jetyer practicing with his sword and shield on foot. The young volaran gamely practicing battle lift-offs and landings. Luthan's heart squeezed. Marrec and Calli had a fine son, one Luthan would be proud of, too. And deep in his heart he envied the boy, to love his parents so much. His first eight years might have been rough, but his latest had been the life Luthan had yearned for, warm, loving parents.
"Jetyer," Luthan said, deliberately deepening his voice with authority.
The boy flinched and fear came to his eyes first, then they narrowed and his mouth took on a stubborn jut.
"Put down your sword and shield, boy. I'd like to speak to you." He noticed that Jetyer wore the hat Luthan had given him. Testing the boy's and the volaran's Songs, he found that the youngster was tough, could blur the beat of his thoughts, keeping them secret. The volaran was all too easy to read. He gestured to the young volaran, turned to his own steed, bowed. "Would you be so kind as to take Jetyer's volaran to the sweet meadow reserved for the highest and let him nibble."
Ayes, Luthan, his winged companion said telepathically, swiping a tongue across his own lips. Come, youngling. Lightning volaran rose with infinite grace and Jetyer's tried hard to copy the lift, his brain fully occupied with the maneuver and his emotions focused on good food. Luthan waited until they were out of sight before he said, "Mute your connection with your volaran."
Frowning from under heavy brows of a deep brown, the boy did.
"Thank you." Luthan bowed to him, too.
Jetyer had leaned his sword and shield on a tree, put his hands on his skinny hips. "Whwhat d-do you w-w-want?" He flushed, more color coming to his skin than if he'd been a purebred Lladranan.
It was rare for the boy to lapse into stuttering.
"I want to prevent you from doing something foolish."
The boy turned a darker color, his skin wasn't quite as fair as the Exotiques, but the change was noticeable.
Luthan said quietly, "As you know, I can sometimes see the future."
Jetyer stilled, skin stretched taut over his face.
Seeking the mental thread he should have with this boy—Luthan was connected to all the Exotiques through Bastien and Alexa, and had participated in circles with both Marrec and Calli—he found it, held it gently, and sent, You must not speak of our conversation to *anyone.* To do so might change the future and, believe me, you do not want that. Warily, but with curiosity growing in his gaze, Jetyer nodded. Luthan offered his hand. Jetyer hesitated and took it. The link between them strengthened. In all my visions of the future, your parents have lived through the invasion. One-hundred-per-cent. That is very rare, but when it happens it is True.
The boy's mouth dropped open his eyes widened. "B-b-but wh-what ab-bout—"
"That's all I will say on it to you and you are the only one to know. When your father asks for your word to stay behind tonight, you give it. And you keep this secret close." Jetyer scowled. "If Calli or Marrec believed they will survive they might take risks they shouldn't." Biting his lower lip, Jetyer seemed to mull this over. "Ayes, think of that. Now get your sword and shield and we will have some one-on-one practice until the volarans return." That definitely diverted the boy's thoughts.
"With you?"
Luthan grinned. Nice to know he still impressed someone. "Ayes, with me."
EXOTIQUE MEETING CUT SCENE
CUT SCENE. This scene is not in the book. All rights reserved; copyright © Robin D. Owens.The text contained within may not be reproduced in whole or in part or distributed in any form whatsoever OR SOLD without first obtaining permission from the author.
This scene was actually written when I was putting the proposals together for the last three Summoning books (which became two) in August of 2006. I didn't include it because as the story developed it became evident that Jikata should meet the others at the ship raising. HOWEVER, I did REFER to the scene as one that both Luthan and Jikata saw in their prophecies...but didn't come true. Enjoy!
The rain fell softly, a scatter of drops that Jikata actually enjoyed. She sensed no pollution in this rain like there would have been on Earth.
Luthan didn't even grumble as he draped himself in a slicker and took out an ugly hat—not white—not her White Knight now, her cowboy hero of the white hat—and plunked it on his head. They rode for an hour before the dreary day and lack of conversation wore on her nerves.
A rumble of thunder alerted her that she'd better find a warm and dry place to take cover, soon.
The lightning struck no more than five feet ahead of her in the middle of the road. Her volaran didn't rear and she was supremely grateful. Then five women stood where no one had been before. Jikata blinked, but even on second—and third—sight, they remained Caucasian—one small and silver headed, one voluptuous red head with a wide streak of silver Power, a blonde dressed in Chevalier leathers, a brunette wearing modified medica robes and a dark-haired green eyed witchy looking woman.
The little one—sporting what Jikata knew to be a baton on her left hip, a Marshall!—stepped forward. Jikata's mouth dropped as she saw the woman spread her fingers in the old Vulcan greeting of "Live Long and Prosper." "Greetings, Earthling Alien," the woman said in English with a slight accent. "Welcome to Lladrana. Home of the Dark."
The redhead closed her eyes in obvious horror. The blonde stepped forward and before Jikata could check Hope, her v
olaran had pranced toward the woman—as had Luthan's. The blonde accepted the volaran's whickered and mind greetings as if this happened all the time. Stroking Hope's nose, she looked up at Jikata, smiling, and spoke in English. "Don't mind Alexa, she has a warped sense of humor."
Since the little woman was now laughing her head off, gasping "Did you see the look on her face? Priceless! Priceless."
The blonde said, "I'm Calli Guardpont, the Volaran Exotiques." She shot a look at Luthan. "We understand that no one has told you of the rest of us."
Jikata's mouth had dried. "No."
Every one of the women frowned. The curvy red head thumped Alexa on her back, nearly sending her to the ground. "We have a rule among us," her voice was the best of those who'd spoken so far, rich and with depth. "We stick together. We're a sisterhood. Others may manipulate and lie to an Exotique, but we never do."
Jikata could hardly believe that.
The redhead continued smoothly. "I'm Marian, second in the line up, from Boulder, Colorado." She touched the golden band around her forehead. Jikata knew that meant the woman was a Sorceress, had built a Tower with her Power and Song. Impressive.
She curved strong, elegant fingers over the small woman. "This is Alexa Vauxveau, the first to come, last year, formerly an attorney in Denver."
Jikata could hardly credit that. But Alexa, now sober-faced, nodded. "That's right. I'm the Marshall's Exotique," she gave a half bow, "and I speak to you, the Singer's Exotique." She grimaced, glanced around at the others, "Marian and I probably have the most in common with you as we were pretty much alone with the Lladranans after we were Summoned. It's harder, then."
The blond circled Jikata's volaran and looked up at her. "It's always hard. I'm Calli Guardpont, late of the Rocking Bar T in Colorado, the Volaran Exotique and third to come." She raised a hand with horse hair and drool on it to Jikata to shake. Jikata hesitated, remembering past connections, but did. At the touch of the woman's fingers the sound of an echoing gong shuddered through her.
FIRST ROUGH DRAFT OF CHAPTER 1
Robin D. Owens Echoes In The Dark
CUT SCENE. This scene is not in the book. All rights reserved; copyright © Robin D. Owens.The text contained within may not be reproduced in whole or in part or distributed in any form whatsoever OR SOLD without first obtaining permission from the author.
This READ ia the FIRST ROUGH DRAFT OF CHAPTER 1 and is significantly different than the final book.
ECHOES IN THE DARK FIRST ROUGH DRAFT OF CHAPTER 1—WITH CAT INSTEAD OF BIRD
On the empty stage Jikata recalled the waves of applause, the only moment when she felt fulfilled.
Everyone thought Jikata had left the Pepsi Center after her concert. Her smash concert, the last concert of a smash tour. All her concerts were sold out, all raves now. The wild shrieking and applause fed her ego.
But nothing else. Her life was as empty as the huge event center. As her great-grandmother would have said, her soul was not receiving nourishment and was withering.
Fans adored her. No one loved her. No man, no good friend male or female, no child. Her career was skyrocketing. Her life was tanking. She'd come to the pinnicle of success for a rock singer, a female half-Japanese no less, and found herself alone and panting after the climb.
She'd been thinking about her great-grandmother on her mother's side more and more often lately, and the old, straightlaced Japanese woman who so disapproved of her had been dead for five years. She'd died just as Jikata had tipped over into the first wild rush of fame. Though "straightlaced" was an English word and not much about her great-grandmother had been American.
Jikata had taken a chance tonight. Despite her manager's advice, she'd slipped in one of her own compositions, a ballad, into the concert.
It had bombed as usual.
No one appreciated her music. But composing it fed her soul.
Only one of her tunes had made it big, and it was hitting the top of the charts now. That really strange concoction of bells and chimes and an occasional gong tone. She'd sung—chanted—a mishmash of words in English and Japanese and French and had layered her voice in the track again and again over three octaves. She barely had a full three octave range and had worked hard on that track until each note was strong and perfect.
"Come to me" was going gold.
The tune wasn't really her composition and that's what bugged her. She'd heard odd patterns of notes, of chimes, of chants, the occasional gong beat in her head over the last two years. It had started here in Denver, her home town, a year ago February. A very dreary February.
As dreary and gray as her present life. She tried to shake off the blues, but a low-level depression gnawed at her.
"Rrrrrrowwwww!" It was a demanding howl.
Jikata winced. Ensou was unhappy. When the Siamese was unhappy, everyone knew about it. The Pepsi Center had better acoustics than she'd thought, she could hear the cat easily.
And the gong and chime and chants in her head continuously now. She shivered.
"Rrrrrowwww!"
"Over here, Ensou. How did you get out of the dressing room?" Why hadn't her assistant taken Ensou to the hotel after the concert? The cat loved concert nights, seemed to feel the energy of fans and Jikata and sound amps, so Jikata brought her.
There was a jingle.
"What's that?"
Ensou was playing with something, batting it, jumping on it, sending it flying with her paw and pouncing again. Each time there were jingles. A chiming ball.
She stood on the stage and felt the huge space around her then she walked off the stage and into the dark and a wind caught her.
JIKATA CHEVALIER CUT SCENE
Robin D. Owens Echoes In The Dark
CUT SCENE. This scene is not in the book. All rights reserved; copyright © Robin D. Owens.The text contained within may not be reproduced in whole or in part or distributed in any form whatsoever OR SOLD without first obtaining permission from the author.
We are at the Singer's Abbey, after Jikata has seen the vision of the planet, Amee.
*****************************************************************
The evening actually went well for Jikata. She watched as the Singer gave the young Chevalier who was testing to become a Marshall—apparently the creme de la creme of warriors in Lladrana—a potion. She was told that sometimes smoke was used, or hand lotion.
The young man stared at Jikata, and she understood that she'd be a good source of gossip for him. Then she took his right hand and the Singer took his left.
Thankfully the dream wasn't intense and was full of images that Jikata couldn't quite decipher. There was the curve of the world, edged in blackness that gave way to a brilliant sunrise shooting yellow streaks into a blue sky, the sound of huge applause. There were strange monster shapes and flying horses and castles and a winding sapphire river, a hill covered with golden blossoms.
Though she felt the low, cycling throb of the planet beneath all the visions, all the melodies engendered by the Chevalier, there was no vision of a woman with her hand pressing her side over a horrible leech. Jikata thought that the Chevalier was aware of the planet and her Song, but had never visualized her. Naturally, she had no idea what the Singer might have seen over her long years.
But Jikata was grateful she didn't have to face the world's manifestation again. She had taken a nap but had not slept well, dreaming of the crying woman, lifting a sword that was too heavy.
Her own heart hurt, simply ached, with a depth of compassion she hadn't been aware she'd held. She did want to help the world, Amee, she could fight. The idea of becoming the Singer—a different sort of Singer than the old woman before her—tantalized.
Magic was in every sound all around her and she loved the music of her new life.
She knew there would be a price to pay.
Killing that evil leech, whatever it was.
She didn't think that destroying it would be easy.
"It is done." The Singer rol
led a low note and the shared Song and with the Chevalier's subsided, the vivid images faded into the dimness of sleep. The Singer withdrew her hands from the young man and as the strength of his Song inundated Jikata, she hurriedly did the same.
The older woman was smiling with satisfaction. "You will awake when I snap my fingers," she said, and put thumb and middle finger together.
Jikata stared, then said, "Wait!"
"What?" The Singer glared back at her.
"Aren't you supposed to count down to ease him from the trance and say that he'll be refreshed, and..." She strove to recall the occasional hypnosis session she'd experienced when she'd wanted to lose more weight.
"What?" Now the Singer sounded incredulous.
Even as the older woman narrowed her eyes at Jikata, Jikata said in a soothing voice, "You will awake at the snap of the Singer's fingers, after I count from ten to one." Could she do it? Did she know the Lladranan words for each number? She hoped so. She thought she'd heard them all. "As I count down you the trance and the sleep will gradually become lighter. You will awake relaxed and refreshed and able to recall your entire experience without any disturbing emotions." That would have to do.
The Singer snorted and folded her hands.
"Ten, you are rising from your trance and feeling energy—Power, in every muscle..." Jikata spaced the count out over multiple beats, and exactly on beat the Singer snapped her fingers and the Chevalier opened his eyes.
He fixed his brown gaze on the Singer. "Did I pass my Song quest? Can I become a Marshall?"
"Ayes," the Singer said shortly.
A small frown knit between his brows. "But I won't be in the invasion force, I don't think?"
"Ttho," the Singer confirmed. "I will leave you with my apprentice." She glided from the room.
Apprentice. Not colleague, not Friend, apprentice. Anger fizzed in Jikata.
The Chevalier gasped and drew Jikata's glance back to him. "You're the Exotique Singer!"
Echoes in the Dark Page 46