Alexa eyed Reynardus. His honed, muscular body was impressive, and she'd have said he had an impressive amount of scars too, if she hadn't seen the man last night.
Then Reynardus turned and his body was limned by a shaft of torchlight. Alexa jolted. He looked like the guy last night. She blinked and stared, but the fleeting likeness was gone. She knew she wasn't mistaken. The man last night must be a close relative. Probably his son. Now that she studied his face, the resemblance was obvious. She wondered what it said about her that she only figured out the connection after she'd seen them both naked.
Except the son had black-and-white streaked hair. Reynardus's words from earlier echoed in her head: "A black-and-white is flawed" So he had a flawed son. That couldn't have been easy on either of them.
Thealia and Partis moved to support the wounded rider while Mace and the Medica stripped. Alexa turned her gaze away from the large man. It was evident that this society—or this class of it—had fewer taboos about nudity than her own. Her mores regarding nakedness were deeply ingrained—especially since she'd fought all her childhood for privacy in foster homes.
The muff rolled until Sinafin was next to her leg, warming it, as if sensing Alexa's bad memories.
Keep your good customs, but take good from us, too, Sinafin said. The mix has happened before and the blend has helped us survive.
Alexa picked up the muff and set it on her lap. It had no discernable sensory organs or limbs. "Isn't being a muff uncomfortable?"
A chuckle came to her mind from Sinafin. It is restful.
Alexa turned her attention back to the drama. Now Mace cradled the fallen rider in his arms and walked slowly to the shallow end of the pool. Thealia was helping the other rider disrobe with tender briskness.
Partis's Song rose and filled the Temple. The dome and crystals reverberated certain notes back that reached inside Alexa and touched her very core.
Yes, she was seeing the other side of the coin—how magic could heal and save rather than destroy.
Sinafin settled more snugly into Alexa's lap. You are meant to be here. Meant to help the Castle. Your home is with us.
The light became diffused, adding softness to the scene. They all moved as if in an elaborate dance, truly a team, concentrating on the injured women. If she wanted, she could join with them, work with them, be accepted. One part of her yearned to do that, another rejected the idea.
The Medica held the unconscious rider's torn arm close to her body—ready for healing in the jerir pool, Alexa supposed. Alexa swallowed hard. The pain would be horrible.
Splashes, then screams. From the Medica and the less-injured flyer. The men's faces looked strained but determined.
They dunked the terribly wounded one.
Alexa couldn't stand it. The jerir ordeal was so rough, so demanding. They needed more hands. She could help. She ran to the pool in time to see Dema, the lightly wounded rider, go under. Oh hell! Alexa jumped in.
It wasn't as bad as the night before. More like being stung by a horde of hungry mosquitoes, then lashed with tiny whips in eachscratch. Her hand slicked against a rounded limb. She grabbed it and found a female arm. Good enough.
Out! her frantic mind demanded.
She shot from the pool like a superhero, hung a couple of feet in the air, then collapsed onto the stone floor—with her rescuee. Damn! How humiliating. It was obvious that whatever magic she had was uncontrolled. She hoped she wasn't turning red.
Rolling to her feet, she tried to look as if she'd meant to be so dramatic in the rescue.
All the others were out of the pool too. Reynardus wasn't buying Alexa's pretense. He stood, thick jerir slowly rolling down his body, giving her a scornful glance. He made a comment and a gesture that Alexa could only interpret as "teach the fool some magic and manners," then stalked away to a screen near the edge of the room. Another splash came from that direction.
Dema scrambled to her knees, gasping, and crawled over to her lover. The other woman's chest rose and fell slowly. Tears joined droplets of jerir on Dema's face.
"Vivant!" She stroked the wet hair of her mate.
The others stared at Alexa.
"Trey," said Thealia.
Three? wondered Alexa, or maybe she meant "very." Wasn't there a French "trey" that meant "very"?
Very stupid to go into the jerir three times.
Yeah. Her mouth set. That was it. Final. Fini. Latin for really done. Her soft heart had gotten the better of her and she'd helped. Now she'd get out of the Castle. She didn't owe anyone anything. No one was rushing to thank her; her effort hadn't garnered any respect. She was outta here.
She stalked over to where she'd left her muff, Sinafin. The little greyhound waited with perked ears.
"Come on, feycoocu. Let's go. Lead the way to the Town."
Ignoring curious glances, Alexa left the Temple. The doors were too heavy to slam satisfactorily, so she just huffed a breath. She stepped from the portico out into the yard.
It was full of people. Alexa recognized servants in their rainbow garb, the nattily dressed man from the Assayer's Office, soldiers in the livery of the Castle, and more flyers dressed like the pair in the Temple. Chevaliers.
And five different flying horses. She eyed them as she followed Sinafin, fascinated, tempted to linger just to look at them. The small dog danced across the large paving stones, attracting attention.
"Fejcoocu." The murmur ran around the square.
The sun was warm on Alexa's clothes and they gave off a faint, astringent steam. She tried to look as if she walked around in steaming clothes all the time.
The Temple was at one end of the wide courtyard. About a block from it, a gatehouse sat between small towers, showing a shadowed opening through the deep walls. A door?
Along the opposite side of the courtyard ran cloisters—covered walkways with openings of triple-pointed windows. Next to that wall was a long two-storied building. On her own side of the Castle was the large Keep with several towers. She could even see the top of the back one that held her former rooms. The walk here was open, just part of the pavement. She started down it and soon reached the gatehouse.
Marwey's young, handsome soldier was there, along with a thirty-something, stern-looking man, equally attractive. One glance at his expression and Alexa knew he was related to Reynardus. Another son? But who cared? She wanted out. Out of the politics, out of the Castle.
As she came near, distaste lit his eyes and he drew back. His mouth turned down and she sensed it was more because of his own reaction to her than to herself.
She nodded to the men and went through the archway between the low gateway towers and up to the doors, whispering from the side of her mouth to Sinafin. "How do these damn doors work?" Hell, she'd never been a history buff.
Sinafin barked and an unobtrusive smaller door set in the huge ones swung in.
"Good job!" Alexa grinned. She was on her way out of the courtyard! She could feel people's mouths drop open as they watched her and the feycoocu. At least they weren't interfering, trying to stop her.
The Lladranan-size door didn't reach the ground. She had to step over a thick partition. A security measure, Alexa supposed. The next yard was larger than the one behind her. How big was this Castle, anyway?
Frowning, she glanced back into the other court and found the Assayer's Office just off the Keep.
Sinafin followed her gaze. The Assayer's Office also opens onto the landing field. She jumped back over the edge of the door and trotted to the men. Marwey's soldier faded back; the other stood stolidly, a wary look on his face. She circled around him, sniffed his knee, barked in acknowledgment and let her tongue loll. The Chevalier grinned.
Sinafin ran and hurdled the door again, skidding to a stop in the dust before Alexa. Luthan, she said. Brother to Bastien we saved last night. Sons of Reynardus.
Why it was important, Alexa didn't know, but she tucked away the information. She held out her arms and the dog leaped into them. Lut
han watched them, eyes narrowed. Feeling a little foolish, Alexa bobbed her torso in an abbreviated bow. Luthan's eyebrows winged up. Aha! She'd surprised another person with simple courtesy. Good, she had the feeling it would be in her best interest to keep the Lladranans guessing.
Alexa turned and studied the new courtyard. She sighed. This one was about a block and a half long—various buildings jutted from the stone walls, in various sorts of architecture, interesting little alleys running between them. Some of the buildings were of the standard gray stone; a few older, smaller ones were made of a creamy yellow stone.
She glanced back and saw the top of the round Temple in the previous courtyard. It alone was a striking white. She started forward, out of the Castle.
This yard had stone sidewalks around thick grass, brown-tinged with blades of renewing green. A small round stone cupola stood in the center, looking new.
They had to cover the well, Sinafin said.
Alexa didn't want to know why. She had enough on her mind. So she strode down the right-hand outside path toward the huge gate in the middle of the opposite end. Since this gate was between two substantial towers, it must be the main entrance. She wondered if there'd be a moat and drawbridge. Cool.
But the coolest thing was that she felt in control of her life again. She was escaping the Castle.
Bastien had gnawed a turkey leg as he watched the incredible events in the Temple courtyard—Temple Ward. He tossed the bone in a trash box and listened to an excited Urvey report all the gossip. The Exotique had plunged in the jerir again and saved Dema, she'd flown around the inside of the Temple, then she'd argued with the Marshalls, stunned them all with her Power, and left for the Town with the feycoocu, vowing never to return.
When Urvey stared yearningly after the strange Exotique as she left the Temple with an equally strange-looking small dog, Bastien had given him leave to follow the new Marshall. Bastien had always been of a curious nature himself. His new squire could be a boon.
It sounded like the Marshalls, and specifically his father, had made a mistake. If the woman left the Castle, Bastien guessed, the Chevaliers might also make a mistake and invite her to join them as their Exotique. He pondered whether he should intervene in the matter.
At that moment, Marrec, a Chevalier with Lady Hallard, hurried down the cloister walk, then slowed as he saw Bastien. "Good, I'm glad you're here to accompany me. Lady Hallard wants a report on the health of Farentha and Dema from the Marshalls."
"Yes, I voted for her to be the new representative of the Chevaliers. Good woman. She sent you to question the Marshalls and you don't want to face them alone? I don't blame you." He clapped the man on the shoulder. "Just think of it as being in a den of clever thieves ready to skin you."
"Thanks a lot," Marrec muttered as they entered the shadowed Temple.
The Marshalls didn't look stunned into immobility by Exotique Power. They looked angry and even divided—until they noticed Bastien and Marrec. Then their auras melded into solidarity.
Still smiling, Bastien addressed Reynardus. "My congratulations, Father. With your usual charm you alienated the powerful Exotique, Savior of Lladrana." Bastien put as much swagger into his steps as he could and still tread carefully so as not to jar any of his aches and pains. He felt as if any major effort would break something loose inside him.
The Marshalls turned in a body to stare at him, some squinting. Even with light from the windows near the ceiling, the Temple was dim. Bastien grinned. One of his natural gifts was excellent night vision.
"Don't you think you should be more diplomatic?" muttered Marrec.
Bastien ignored the comment, continuing to approach the people around the jerir pool. He ignored the pool too, not wanting to remember the pain and how close he'd come to dying from sheer stupidity.
His father's mouth thinned into a stern line and his gaze flattened—his usual expression around Bastien.
"Alien is right," Reynardus said. "A small woman of no account. No doubt her Powers are much exaggerated."
"Oh?" Concentrating, Bastien mentally located his quarterstaff in the stables of the Castle with the rest of his gear and volaran. His legs had started to tremble, but he had no intention of appearing weak before his father. A person was foolish to show any weakness to Reynardus.
With a thought he summoned his quarterstaff, liking the sound as it smacked into his outstretched hand. He leaned insouciantly on it. "I've heard that even untrained she had enough Power to killDisparu. That she claimed the famous Jade Baton. That she's survived three plunges in the jerir, and brought Dema and Farentha back from the gates of death. That a feycoocu has come to companion her."
Not to mention that she'd hauled his own sorry ass out of the jerir pool. He was glad he only remembered a flash of startled female eyes. "Quite a list for someone who has been in Lladrana barely two days. And now you have let this paragon walk away from the Marshalls."
"Quit baiting your father," Marshall Thealia said, coming up to him and brushing a perfunctory kiss on his cheek.
Bastien ducked his head in courtesy. Doubt and concern clouded her eyes.
"I don't need you to defend me, Thealia, especially not from Bastien," Reynardus said.
She spun on her heel and faced him, face tight. "There is sucha thing as common courtesy. It is obvious where your younger son gets his rudeness."
"Too true, Godmama," Bastien said. "Unlike my good brother Luthan. But witnessing my father making a major mistake was something I had to see."
"I made no mistake," Reynardus snapped. "The woman is useless to us."
Bastien lifted his shoulders and let them fall in an elaborate shrug. "If you say so. But Luthan is in the courtyard, the Representative of the Singer. I wonder if he will agree—or Marrec's liege, Lady Hallard, the new Representative of the Chevaliers. If the Exotique reaches the Town, there might be guildmembers who think otherwise." Bastien rubbed his chin. "Not to mention the Sorcerers in their Towers. I'd imagine one or several would be very interested in an untrained, powerful Exotique. No telling what potential use they could put her to."
Reynardus stiffened to statue immobility, inflexibility. His head tilted slightly. The unheard but felt buzz of quick, mental communication among the Marshalls hummed around Bastien and Marrec. Marrec widened his stance, ready for anything. Bastien's smile came and went at his companion's action. Completely solid. Completely reliable. That was Marrec Gardpont.
A flush rose under Reynardus's cheeks, anger lit his eyes. He was wrong and he knew it. But he would never admit that his pride caused mistakes. Not in dealing with the Exotique. Certainly not in dealing with his sons. He wouldn't admit his arrogance was anything but a sterling quality.
There was a flash of Power among the Marshalls, as if they'd come to a major decision, and the humming energy among them quieted to the usual intricate melody that bound them.
Partis, Thealia and the other Marshalls whirled as one and started past Bastien and Marrec for the Temple door.
"Swordmarshall Thealia, I would like confirmation that Farentha lives," Marrec said.
Thealia paused. "She lives and will heal. Well enough to fight, we think. She and Dema are in apartments above the volaran stables in Horseshoe Close."
Marrec bowed. "Lady Hallard on behalf of the Chevaliers thanks you for their healing and lodging. We will pay the proper fees."
"Difficult," Thealia said, obviously wanting to leave and find her precious lost Marshall, "as it was the Exotique who enabled us to heal them and she isn't a member of the Marshalls."
Bastien chuckled. "Then she will have coin enough to live in Town for a while, won't she?"
With a nasty glance, Thealia hurried after her fellows.
Swordmarshall Mace stopped before Bastien too, and shook his head in exasperation. "You like to cause trouble, don't you."
"You should all thank me for making this a very short and easily corrected error," Bastien said.
Mace snorted. "You don't know a damn
thing about how muchthis will cost."
A wide, beatific smile stretched Bastien's lips. "Oh, I know it will cost my father some of his pride, if I figure right. And you so very noble Marshalls."
Mace grunted, said, "Good day to you, Marrec," and loped off.
The Temple emptied of the Marshalls, all on their new quest for their Exotique.
Marrec sighed. "Don't you think we could have used her?"
Bastien flashed him a look. "Don't you understand? The Marshalls Summoned her. With their ideas of what Lladrana needed, their requirements. They brought a woman who would fit in with them. She is predisposed to work with them. So let them have her, especially if she will stir them up a little. Then we can figure out how to Summon someone for us, the Chevaliers."
Marrec's eyes widened. He met Bastien's gaze, then looked at the black-and-white streaks in Bastien's hair. Marrec shook his head. "You are a scary man." He turned and walked away.
Bastien laughed.
They all marched out of the Temple and into the courtyard. Thealia raised a hand to halt. "We can't all go after the girl. It might overwhelm her."
Reynardus snorted.
Thealia's jaw flexed, but she said evenly, "Partis can keep a low mental connecting Song with you all, while we convince her to come back to the Castle."
"Let her go," Reynardus said.
She whirled to face him. "You say that when you've seen what she can do? Such energy she has for our songspells, such Power that she flies from the pool. The battles are only going to get worse. What if it is you who needs great healing?"
Reynardus paled, his eyes narrowed. "It won't be me."
"How can you say that? Any of us could fall. I, for one, would want Alyeka near if that happened."
The others exchanged glances. Mace spoke for them. "Thealia, you and Partis go, as a Pair."
"I'll go too. I am, after all, the Lord Knight of this gaggle," Reynardus said.
There was internal muttering through their link, but no one voiced an objection.
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