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The Marshalls sat in their Council Chamber in the morning. Bright sunlight danced through the narrow windows, lighting dust motes until they glowed golden, bringing out the streaks of burnished oak in the table—and illuminating its scars.
Thealia could tell which of the Marshalls had availed themselves of the pool. The strain of the Summoning was there in them all, but those who’d used the pool of protection had an extra glow to their skin, a hint that their energy would return redoubled. It made her blink in surprise. Could the jerir in the pool be that powerful? Perhaps.
Bathing in jerir wasn’t common, so she hadn’t realized the effects were obvious. She noted everyone studying one another and saw a dawning awareness on the faces of those who hadn’t taken the plunge.
Clearing her throat, she said, “The Marshalls’ meeting is now in session.” She inclined her head to Faith to make sure the Lorebook recorded the meeting. “Mistress Loremarshall, can you tell us how long the jerir is effective?”
Faith jerked in surprise. Stacked in front of her were three large tomes, all covered in the metallic hide of lizworm, one with an illustrated page of the jade baton. She frowned. “One moment.” With a whoosh, a new book she’d summoned arrived on the table near her. She set her hand on it and lilted a spelltune. The book opened and Faith bent her head over it. “The amount of jerir in the Temple’s sacred basin should last through an entire moonspan and a half.”
“Ah,” Thealia said. “In that case we will not drain the basin today as previously arranged. I propose that we let word spread that any who wish to use the pool may present themselves at the gates properly prepared. They will be escorted to the Temple and watched while they immerse themselves. Discussion?”
“Thealia, is this wise? Anyone?” asked Faith.
“We are at the prelude of a new age. Enough of us have heard the Song to know that the struggle before us will be long and hard. We will need all our resources.”
Mace’s—the Armsmaster’s—grin was ironic. “Anyone who’s bold enough to come to the Castle and request the use of the pool, and courageous enough to dunk himself, will be someone I can respect—and train, if needs be.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Any more discussion?”
No one answered.
“Then we are agreed?”
“Agreed,” everyone responded.
Thealia smiled in satisfaction. Meetings went so much more smoothly when their leader, Lord Knight Swordmarshall Reynardus, didn’t attend.
“Let’s talk about our new Marshall, Alyeka,” Thealia said.
“She can’t be allowed to keep that absurd name,” someone grumbled.
“Oh, who’s going to tell her that?” Faith smiled.
“Swordmarshall Johnsa, an image if you please,” Thealia requested.
With the care and competence that she brought to all her duties, Johnsa built a foot-high, three-dimensional model of their new Exotique, startling in its likeness.
Thealia caught her breath. She’d forgotten how odd Alexa looked. Or perhaps it was that sunlight accentuated her pale coloring, light hair and green eyes so much more than the shadowy Temple.
Partis grasped her hand under the table and squeezed.
The harp on the door strummed.
“Enter,” Thealia called. Of the Marshalls, only Reynardus’s place was empty. She hadn’t anticipated that he’d make the meeting, and he wouldn’t courteously use the doorharp either.
The door opened and Luthan, one of Reynardus’s sons—one of Thealia’s dear godsons—entered.
Concern fluttered in the pit of Thealia’s stomach. That he was here meant he didn’t agree with the Marshalls on some point. “Do you come as the Representative of the Chevaliers?” Thealia asked. It was his right, but she didn’t want an altercation with a man she respected, or a breach between the Marshalls of the Castle and Chevaliers of the Field. But she wouldn’t let him turn her from the path she knew was right. “I trust you are not the only Chevalier who arrived for ‘The Pairing.’ I’d like to give our new Marshall a good choice.”
His glance swept the table. He froze when he noted the model of Alexa. His expression of revulsion was brief but obvious.
Thealia’s chest tightened. A pity he could not like her. They both could do so much worse. Maybe in time…
Luthan smiled, showing teeth. “No, I don’t represent the Chevaliers to the Castle. I am here as the Representative of the Cloister of the Singer.”
“The Cloister!” They hadn’t sent a delegate to the Castle for as long as anyone could remember.
He slid into the proper seat, the one carved with a full moon sending rays down to a woman who Sang. “That’s right. The Cloister wanted a Representative at the Castle if the Summoning was a success. They approached me as a man of good moral fiber and one with experience of the Marshalls.”
No one could ever deny that. He’d battled his father all his life.
“The Cloister requested I turn over my representation of the Chevaliers to another whom I trusted, and attend for them.”
This complete change shook Thealia. “Who did you choose to replace you for the Chevaliers?”
He hesitated. “The post is open for the moment.”
Mace snorted. “The Chevaliers didn’t believe we’d succeed in the Summoning. Caught them and you unprepared. Not a good thing for knights.”
A flush crept to Luthan’s cheekbones. He sat straight. “There is dissension amongst the Chevaliers as to the arrogance and the secrecy of you Marshalls. Further, some of us Chevaliers consulted the Song a week ago. It foretold only a sixty-percent chance of success.”
Thealia flinched. “The last time the Marshalls consulted the Song, it was an eighty-percent chance of achievement.”
Luthan lifted a shoulder. “Circumstances change.”
“We were luckier than we thought,” Faith said, smoothing the page of one of her books.
This change, and the new information, disturbed Thealia. But she couldn’t afford to let it show. “And your replacement?”
“I thought to offer it to my brother.”
“Bastien?” Mace laughed so hard he nearly fell off his chair.
“That rogue…in a responsible position? Impossible,” Thealia said.
“What’s impossible is the thought of the three of them—Reynardus, Luthan and Bastien—here on the Council.” Johnsa shaded her eyes as if trying to banish the vision. “We’d never get anything done.”
“Bastien is a good man,” said his brother. “Undervalued and underestimated. Further, as delegates, we would follow the instructions of our patrons.”
That started Mace laughing again. “As if Bastien ever followed any instructions, ever!” he said between snorts. “I thank you for the laugh, my friend. But we should proceed with business.”
Thealia scrutinized Luthan. What were his instructions? He’d just made her job harder. She sought to keep him off balance. “Does your father know you’re the new Cloister Representative and that you’re here?”
His jaw tensed.
So. His father didn’t know. Not surprising since the last she’d heard, the whole family had fragmented, Reynardus’s sons moving to their own holdings or camping in the field with the Chevaliers.
She didn’t press the issue. Luthan would inherit from Reynardus one day, and there was that wide streak of silver at his left temple as well as a few strands at his right. His personal Power was strong, and he might become a Marshall in the future.
“Why are you here?” Thealia asked.
Luthan’s gaze went to the image of Alexa. “The Chevaliers heard the Summoning was a success. This changes the whole battle plan.”
“As we told you it would,” Thealia said dryly. “Though you doubted us. Do you stay to be part of the Choosing and Pairing?”
His eyes widened in horror. His cheeks reddened a bit. “Ah, no. I didn’t come for The Choosing and Pairing. Nor has any other Chevalier.”
Thealia just raised her eyebrows and stared at him. He shifted in his seat.
She continued. “That is the next step, you know. To Pair our Exotique—Alyeka—with a person of Lladrana so she will stay. The Chevaliers should be here.”
Luthan frowned and leaned forward. “Let’s call your ‘Choosing’ exactly what it is. It’s a forced, involuntary life and blood-bond—a bossechain. Her Choosing will not be a ritual to find and love a mate. Her bond will not be a coeurdechain.” His smooth and quiet tones had disappeared and his voice took on a harshness that echoed his father’s.
“Semantics,” she said, but her lips tightened. She met his eyes. “It isn’t quite ethical, but over the centuries we’ve found it necessary and effective.”
He sat up straight. “It is wrong.”
She raised her eyebrows again. “We gave our new Marshall a choice of bedmates last night, in the hopes we could avoid the formal ritual. She retired alone.
“The rest of us are agreed. Do you choose to challenge us, Chevalier Luthan, with combat? Or call a vote of all the Castle, Tower, Chevaliers, Cloister and Towns?”
Luthan shoved his chair back and stepped away from the Council table, distancing himself from the decision. He leaned back against the stone wall, ignoring the chill that would bite even past the argenthide of his riding clothes, and folded his arms.
“I choose to personally disagree for the Lorebook.”
Thealia sighed. “Always so contrary. Of two options you always choose a third.”
A touch of a smile graced his lips. He glanced at the little model of Alexa and a hint of pity passed over his face. “And this Choosing will take place this afternoon.”
“So, you did read the Castle information board?” Thealia stared coolly down her nose. “The funds and lands that come with Alyeka as her dowry could greatly benefit you.”
“Not at that cost. I won’t be offering a token for the Choosing Table.” He headed for the door.
“Luthan, before you go, cleanse yourself as if for a great ritual and use the protection pool,” Thealia called.
He paused. His brows lowered as he studied the Marshalls. “It really does make a difference?”
“Now, and probably in the future,” Thealia agreed.
“Is it true that it’s painful?”
“Agony,” Partis said cheerfully. “But you’re a tough, young knight, you’ll handle it.”
Luthan grimaced, outlined the badge on his tunic in an absent gesture. He glanced at Thealia. “Is it a suggestion, or an order?”
Thealia felt her face soften, wondered if it was evident to the others. She had such a love and delight in Reynardus’s sons, this one in particular. “Only a strong suggestion.”
Luthan ran a hand through his hair. “I can be cleansed, in and out of the pool before the Choosing. I’ll inform Bastien of this conversation this evening. I’m sure he will take advantage of the pool also—if for no other reason than his pride.”
Mace cleared his throat and Luthan turned to him. “Yes?”
“If you flew in on a feisty volaran stallion, after the pool you might want to leave on a gentle mare.”
Nodding shortly, Luthan bowed to them and turned.
“Luthan,” Thealia said.
He looked over his shoulder.
“I don’t believe your father thought of using the pool. You might remind him.”
Luthan’s gray eyes clouded, chilled. He inclined his head. “My squire will send him a note,” he said stiffly, then left.
“The boy had a point about the Choosing and Pairing,” said the oldest Marshall, Albertus.
“Do we have to discuss this again?” Thealia asked.
There was silence around the table. Several Marshalls wouldn’t meet her eyes. She didn’t like a forced blood-bond any more than the rest.
It could be chancy: if the drug mixture or amount wasn’t right, or if the drugs affected the Exotique’s judgment so she made a bad choice. To be tied her entire life, mind, body and heart to the wrong man—Thealia cut off her thoughts. She couldn’t afford them. There were many others who had and would sacrifice themselves for Lladrana—Alexa was just one more cost.
It was unfortunate that she would be forced, but how they needed her Power! The Spring Song had prophesied that the Exotique was the solution to their failing boundaries—the melody rippling out in a hopeful trill.
Thealia hardened her heart and her expression. When she met each of the Marshall’s eyes again, she infused them with her own determination. This had to be done.
4
“Call me Sinafin,” the fairy had said in Alexa’s dream, twirling and tinkling like wind chimes. The little being was no more than three inches high and completely pink—lacy wings, pointed ears, hair, tiny gown—everything.
Sinafin had stared at Alexa as much as Alexa had stared at her, and for as long.
“I must be dreaming,” Alexa had said.
Sinafin had perched on the headboard and swung her feet. “You are. I’m not really a fairy. I just took this image from your mind.” She shrugged and considered her wings. “It’s not a bad form, but I don’t think I’ll wear it outside of your dreams.”
“Then what are you?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Sinafin had replied with music in her voice. “What does matter is that you understand what is happening.”
“What?”
Sinafin had sighed, studied her toes and flexed her feet. “You have been Summoned to Lladrana.”
Alexa’s heart had thumped. She’d licked her lips. “Heavy mojo. Chimes. Rainbows. Chant. Gong. Large silver pentacle. It doesn’t look like I can get home easily.” She didn’t even want to think about disappearing holes and big hairy monsters. With fangs.
The fairy avoided Alexa’s eyes.
She sat up straight. “What aren’t you telling me about getting back?”
“It would be a massive undertaking for a Ritual to return you to the Exotique Land.”
“But?” Alexa had spotted a hesitation in the little woman’s words.
A minute pink tongue dampened pink lips. “There’s a moment, a Snap, when your Land calls to you.” She took off from the headboard and zoomed a circuit around the underside of the canopy. “Like when sometimes before you fall asleep, your body jerks.”
This time Sinafin perched on Alexa’s upraised knee. The serious look on the little pointed face didn’t suit Sinafin. “You have a moment to go or stay. Wish to go, and you’re gone. Hang on to something here, and you stay.”
“When does this happen?”
Sinafin shrugged. “Who knows? Days. Months. Years. Different times for different people. Sometimes the Snap is easy, sometimes hard. Different for different people.” She frowned. “Or maybe sometimes it’s easier for people to stay or go.”
“Duh,” Alexa said, throat tight.
“But we really need you here.”
“Joan of Arc,” Alexa croaked.
Sinafin’s entire being flashed humor. “Yes. But you can do it. You are stronger than you think. Stronger than they think. They cannot coerce you in any way—remember that.”
“You’re not one of them?”
She gave a tiny fairy snort. “Do I look like one of them? No. I sensed you were here and came. I am here for you.” She launched herself into the air, dipping and whirling, wind chimes rippling with her movements. Alexa got the idea she was too impatient to sit still. Sinafin hovered before Alexa’s nose, just far enough away that Alexa didn’t have to look at her cross-eyed.
“Deep in your heart you need Lladrana. It can be a home for you. You can find your place here.”
“Argh,” was all that came out of Alexa’s mouth.
A teeny fairy finger wagged at her. “So don’t get scared, or depressed. Take it as a challenge.”
“That’s what they always call awful problems nowadays, ‘challenges,’” Alexa muttered.
The fairy beamed. “I’m here to help you.”
Alexa wasn’t sure how a little pink fairy in her dreams could be of use.
Sinafin flittered around the bed, grabbed the fringe on the hangings and swung from it. “Don’t think of going back. Accept your fate here and you’ll live a long life of great fulfillment.”
“You sound like a fortune cookie.”
A laugh rippled from Sinafin. “I am good fortune. Now, I know you aren’t good with languages. So listen!” A delicate wand with a star on top appeared in her hand. She waved it, and the whole evening rolled like a movie before Alexa’s eyes. Only this time, she could understand what the people were saying. At least the words, but some of the meanings and concepts were beyond her. When it ended, she had a million questions. She opened her mouth to ask Sinafin, but with fairy capriciousness, the little magical woman had disappeared. A feeling of dark destiny crept over Alexa.
Now she shivered from toes to head as she remembered the dream and the night before. She clutched a pillow almost as big as her. Her arms sank into it and she knew it was made of the finest down. Everything around her was the finest.
“Hard to go back,” she muttered to herself, and knew that there wasn’t much of a life to go back to. She’d have to start all over on Earth as well as here in…Lladrana? “Find my place here.” Tears welled in her eyes and she was helpless to stop them. All she’d ever wanted was to fit in, be normal, know she was the same as everyone else who had a family and friends and a good home.
In Sophie she’d found a good friend, as close as a sister. Sophie had been outgoing and charming, had expanded Alexa’s circle of friends. She and Sophie had graduated law school, passed the bar, and started their own firm specializing in domestic law. They’d had three clients.
Then Sophie died and the plans were shot to hell. Before Alexa had had time to regain her balance, she’d heard chimes and music and had gone through the silver arch to Lladrana.
She had chosen to go through the gate of her own free will. She knew that. But she sure hadn’t known the consequences. Alexa was certain that in Colorado “ensorcellment” wasn’t a valid defense for stupid decisions. What about here in Lladrana?
She uncurled from a fetal position and looked around her. Everything in the room—her own room—was of the highest quality. She had passed “tests” and been granted the status of Marshall. Alexa shuddered at the thought of the tests. She’d thought a month of studying for the Colorado bar had been bad!
That was then. This was now. And now was an entirely different world.
Tests. She’d focus on that. The little star-ball—atomball—had been a test. Partis had said so before he sent it to her. Many had been surprised she could handle it. The test was a measure of what they called “Power.”
The next test was obvious. Did she have the compassion to save the baby? Then, she’d asked for help in keeping the baby alive. Had that been a test too? Alexa thought so. She wasn’t too proud to ask for help. She could work with others to achieve a goal. She made a disgusted noise. Oh, their tests had been clever, all right.
The memory of how she’d flung her assailant against a wall with her sheer will burned in her heart. She couldn’t sit in bed and face that fact so got up to pace the room. What could she have done differently? She wasn’t trained in martial arts. She hadn’t hurt him on purpose, had only defended herself. Self-defense was acceptable in Colorado and apparently in Lladrana too, since she hadn’t been punished. But that she’d hurt, maybe killed, shook her to the core.
A sour taste coated her tongue, so she went to the bathroom and rinsed out her mouth. On the way back, she stopped at the windows and finally looked out. She was about five stories up!
Glancing down, she saw her Tower was built on the edge of a cliff. She flinched back, then looked out onto an expansive landscape. Before her were fields showing a fuzz of spring green, then wooded, rising hills.
She followed the window to the far left curve—in the distance was a large, tidy walled town. She looked down and saw a hedge maze just within the castle walls, and just beyond it a small garden centered around a tall, lovely white-barked tree. A sweet murmuring, almost beneath her hearing, beckoned to her. She pressed close to the window. The low music must come from the growing things, maybe even the land. Rocks? Who knew?
From what she’d already experienced, anything was possible.
She frowned, trying to separate the attractive lilt from other notes, and finally figured out that it came from the tree. She smiled. The tree had caught her eye, so it was logical that she’d hear its tune more clearly.
Alexa moved to the center of the window to once again study the vista of multihued greens. Her heartbeat picked up. This is home, a bone-deep feeling whispered. This is what you’ve been searching for all your life.
She shook her head and backed away, bumped into a piece of furniture she hadn’t noticed before—a mirror on a stand. At her reflection her mouth dropped open and she stared. Her hair had turned silver in the night. Her eyes appeared very green—as deep and green as her jade baton.
Alexa ran to the bed, leaped on it and burrowed into the covers. She’d decided. She wasn’t getting out of the bed, or out of this room. She’d wait for the Snap.
Alexa slept most of the morning, until the strings attached to her door rippled and Marwey called out. Alexa buried her head in the pillows and ignored her. After a while the girl went away.
Alexa dozed again until Thealia came and made demanding noises. The woman was impatient, not even denting Alexa’s willpower to hold out before stalking off—Alexa could feel her irritated energy and hear hard footsteps.
Just as Alexa was beginning to relax, Partis chanted at her door, comforting, soothing. Lulling, Alexa thought with a snort. She wasn’t moving.
Partis sang for about half an hour, then left.
The doorharp sounded again and Marwey spoke. She knocked. Alexa heard noises out in the hallway and wondered if they’d starve her out. Then the baby cried just beyond the door.
It went on and on. Alexa couldn’t bear it. She got up and stood by the door, calling softly to the child, murmuring endearments. That only worked once.
She opened the door and scooped up the baby, who broke into a smile. Alexa smiled back, and a couple of women nabbed her.
Marwey, eyes wide, advanced and touched the ends of Alexa’s shoulder-length hair. “Argent,” she whispered in awe.
Alexa grimaced. She’d forgotten the color had changed from brown to silver.
“Alyeka, Alyeka, Alyeka.” The women called her name. With a swirl of jewel-toned robes, Marwey and Thealia and the rest, laughing and coaxing—and cuddling the baby—took Alexa down long, curving stairs.
It wasn’t a dungeon, but a big bathing room tiled in white and turquoise with slim graceful pillars. There were three pools of light blue, and lush greenery. The whole room was like something out of a harem. To one side hung a rich robe of dull gold. It looked Alexa’s size.
She allowed herself to be led to a pool. Narrowing her eyes she examined the liquid. It appeared to be water. Thinking it would be easier to test the stuff than to try to ask what it was, she bent down and cupped some in her hands. It felt like water. No stinging. Alexa let it trickle through her fingers.
Lifting her hands to her nose she inhaled the scent the liquid had left. Herbs. Nice and somehow sweet, not astringent. As she scooped up the “water” again and lowered her mouth to taste, she watched the others. They looked amused but didn’t protest or stop her. She darted the tip of her tongue out to lap at the water—again, it tasted of herbs.
Alexa stood and straightened her shoulders. She gestured for others to bathe before her. Thealia lifted her eyebrows, but moving a little jerkily, she disrobed and sank into a steaming pool. She leaned her head back on what appeared to be a padded cushion that rimmed the pool, shut her eyes and hummed. Alexa eyed the older Marshall and decided to follow her example.
Walking to the hot pool, Alexa summoned the courage to drop her bathrobe, and, ignoring embarrassment, trod the shallow steps into the pool. The hot water caressed her arches and Alexa knew why Thealia had moaned. It felt so good! The water lapped silkily at her as she submerged; the heat banished the aches and stings the liquid the night before had burned. Thealia sat on a ledge at the deep end of the pool. Alexa judged that if she joined the woman the water would rise to Alexa’s mouth. She found a spot and a ledge where it reached her shoulders—ignoring the twittering of the other women, probably about her height—and flopped her head back on the pad. Oh yeah! The only thing better would be jets.