Keepers of the Flame

All Bri’s nerves shivered at the thought.

“It was a matter of faith in herself,” Jaquar said, kissing his wife’s cheek. “She knew her Power was strong, and fashioned to be more of use here than on Exotique Terre.”

A definite prod at them, Bri thought. She said, “I have always used my healing hands.”

Jaquar switched his gaze to Elizabeth. “And you? You both have great Power here, otherwise the Song would not have reverberated in your mind—the gong, the chimes.”

Bri jerked in surprise. “How did you know that?”

“It is the way Exotiques are Summoned.” He nodded to the books on the table. “You can learn much from the others’ experiences.”

“Later.” Alexa walked to the door, sent the twins a challenging look. “Can’t hide in here all day.” She snorted with laughter as if at a secret joke. “Come along. Your new life awaits. If you dare.”

Bri spared one last glance around the room, then watched carefully in the hallway when Jaquar bespelled the door.

As they walked down the stairs the medica, Jolie, began asking Elizabeth questions. Soon they were deep in a conversation about medical techniques. Bri blinked. She didn’t want to face another new day in another new place. She was supposed to be in Denver.

When the outer door opened onto the wide courtyard of the Castle, they all hesitated.

“One of the twins should come with me to Castleton. We have a house prepared,” Sevair said. “The Exotique Summoned was for Castleton and the other cities and towns.”

“Sounds like traveling,” Elizabeth’s voice was strained. She met Bri’s eyes. A bad feeling slicked Bri’s gut.

I don’t want to leave the Castle. Elizabeth was even more hesitant.

Bri couldn’t resist the plea. She pasted on a smile and jutted a hip. Looks like it’s me, then. Think this telepathy thing works across two miles?

Elizabeth’s eyes sharpened. An interesting experiment.

Yeah. Bri straightened her shoulders. “I’ll go.” She sent a glance around the cluster of people. “For a while. We aren’t chessmen to be pushed around.”

“Of course not,” Bastien said. “No Exotique can be pushed far.” His smile was crooked, his gaze admiring.

Alexa said, smiling, “We get to Castleton often, usually to the Nom de Nom.”

“A worthy establishment,” Sevair said, but something about the way he said it made Bri think he didn’t really mean it.

Bastien laughed. “A Chevaliers hang-out.”

Of course he hadn’t really said hang-out. Had he? Bri could hardly distinguish the English words from the Lladranan, especially since she realized that the Exotiques had already had a definite effect on the language. “Okay” was commonplace. Maybe Bastien had said hang-out.

“Lodging, food, and clothing is a priority. We will shelter and care for our Exotiques.” Sevair’s broad hand with scarred fingers gestured to Elizabeth and Bri.

“Merci,” said Elizabeth. “It’s comforting to know we have a place here at the Castle and in Castleton.”

“Not only there,” Marian said. “If you prefer Circlet Towers you can live with me or Bossgond.”

“Marrec and I have a big house at your disposal, too,” Calli said.

“Exotiques are valued,” Sevair said, “but I think you will find that no one values their Exotiques more than the Cities and Towns.”

At that moment a couple of women strode up to the group. The older one was the Marshalls’ leader, the other wore expensive leathers. Bri vaguely remembered them from the night before.

The Marshall bowed brusquely to them; she wore Authority like a surgeon’s coat.

“I’m Thealia Germain, Lady Knight Swordmarshall.”

Okay, make that the Authority of the head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Thealia jerked a nod at the woman beside her. “Lady Hallard, representative of the Chevaliers.”

Bri thought it sounded like the two top warriors in the world. She stepped back. She’d avoided war zones on her travels. Poverty and disease of third-world nations was bad enough without being caught in a struggle between vicious groups.

Elizabeth nodded at them. “Ladies.”

Well, Elizabeth had served her time in emergency services and ICUs; she’d have seen plenty of wounds inflicted on people by others.

“Exotique Medicas,” Hallard said.

Thealia continued, “It’s time for the morning briefing about last night’s battle. My husband and Shieldmarshall noticed a different pattern in the fighting, as did other Shields. We also received a message from the horrors, or perhaps I should say from the new Master of the Horrors and Servant of the Dark.”

Just the titles had Bri backing up a little more, into the solid shape of Sevair. He steaded her with a hand on her shoulder, then said in voice full of suppressed fury, “You mean my ex-assistant.”

Thealia spared him an impatient “get over it” look. “All three of our groups were betrayed last year.” She indicated Hallard with a stern jerk of her head.

“Yes, of course.” Now Sevair’s voice was quiet, even soothing. “My anger and grief are not solely my own.”

“The briefing,” Thealia snapped.

“What was the message?” Marian asked. “This isn’t a good sign.”

“I prefer to speak of that in private.”

“Hey, Jean,” Bastien called to a soldier in the Castle colors, lingering on the edge of their group. “What was the Master’s message?”

“‘Our Dark plague will take you all.’”

On the receiving end of scathing stares from the Lady Knight Swordmarshall and Lady Hallard, the soldier shrank back into the dark shadows shrouding the cloister corridor in the gray morning.

“So now we know for sure,” Sevair said quietly, though he’d left his hand on Bri’s shoulder and she felt the tension run through all his muscles.

Scowling, Thealia said, “Unfortunately.”

“The Circlets must hear this news immediately,” Marian said.

“Broadcast a message by crystal sphere,” Thealia said impatiently. “I want you Circlets at my briefing.”

“Of course,” Jaquar said, slipping his arm around Marian. “We’ll join you shortly.” They moved away.

“Right,” Alexa said, holding her hand to Bastien. He made a face but took it and matched her magically rapid pace back to the keep, outdistancing the taller Marian and Jaquar.

“And you, also, Citymaster, and the Exotique Medicas.”

“Thank you, but that is not possible,” Sevair said.

A few seconds of startled silence passed. The Lady Knight Swordmarshall was obviously not used to people denying her.

“Castleton has prepared a welcome and thanks for their Exotique Medica. The morale of my city is very important. We have been much harder hit by this sickness than you here at the Castle. My people come first.” His hand grew warmer with sheer energy on Bri’s shoulder, heating it, reminding her that she was standing in damp, chilly air.

“Of course,” Thealia said in repressive tones.

The Castle medica, Jolie, stepped forward. “It’s my opinion that the Castle Exotique Medica should see our facilities and learn the basics of our methods, while we speak to her of the Power she used last night. The sooner we understand each other, the better.” She swallowed.

So Elizabeth was the Castle Exotique Medica, huh? That made Bri the—

Sevair’s fingers squeezed Bri’s shoulder gently, released, leaving a quickly cooling spot. “Both Medicas were Summoned on behalf of the Cities and Towns. I reluctantly agreed that one of the ladies stay here for training. But they are both for the Cities and Towns.”

“The medicas can reimburse you for the Marshalls fee to Summon—”

“This is not about zhiv,” Sevair said. “This is about need and priorities.”

“I understand.” The medica bowed her head.

“I do, too,” said Elizabeth. She smiled. “I’m used to training at one place and working in other departments, and Bri has traveled, using her gift, extensively.”

Yep, Elizabeth definitely wanted to stay at the Castle. Still, Bri continued to drag her feet. She didn’t want to leave. Even the Castle was better than someplace new. After years of traveling, of being flexible, of modifying her behavior to be accepted into a new society—even if it was an alternative medical structure that she fit into better—she wanted just to be herself in one place with her family.

Sevair’s large hand squeezed her shoulder again, then he stepped back and made another very courteous bow. “We of the city and towns are honored to have you here, Exotique Drystan.”

She looked at his serious brown eyes, let out a sighing breath. At least there was an upside—she wouldn’t have to work to connect with the medical community here, wouldn’t have to prove herself. That had already happened. Last night.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Thank you.” She sucked in a breath and addressed Jolie. “This is where your…warriors…the Marshalls and Chevaliers return, right? Elizabeth is better with wounds.”

Elizabeth frowned. “That’s right.” She inhaled deeply, too. “Any wounded from last night’s battle?”

The medica studied her. “Two. We would appreciate your opinion. It’s an excellent way to start.” She sounded cheerful.

Elizabeth jumped into conversation with the medica, and was walking to the big round temple where several others waited in their red robes with a white cross.

Bri felt abandoned.

“The morning wears on,” Thealia said, turning to Calli.

“Marrec and I are out of this.” She raised both hands palms outward. “Until the last battle.”

Thealia snorted, pivoted on her heel and left. Her bootsteps echoed through the courtyard as she went to the keep.

“They meet in the Marshalls’ Council Chamber,” Calli said.

“I’d imagine so,” Bri said.

But Calli had tilted her blond head and was studying her. “You know, the destruction spell does demand six, and there are two of you. Maybe we will only need one more to win the final battle.”

“We aren’t staying,” Bri said. She was sure the phrase would be repeated like a mantra in the coming days.

Clop, clip, clip, clip, clop. A large brown volaran danced up to them, neighed, dipped its head. A series of pictures came to Bri, of herself and Sevair mounted on the winged horse and flying down toward a spired town. With the images came a feeling of anticipation and pleasure. The pegasus was talking to her!

She smiled uneasily at the volaran, but stroked her neck. Looking at Sevair, she said, “Did you get that?”

The clouds had returned but she saw a faint tinge of redness on his cheeks. Of course it could have been the coolness of the air.

“Did I hear the volaran? Not very well.”

She thought he didn’t like admitting what he might consider deficiencies.

But Calli was there, smiling, her blue eyes twinkling. “Mud says she’d like to fly you both down to Castleton. I don’t fly with her often and she likes Exotiques. They smell so good.”

“Mud?” Bri couldn’t think of an uglier name for such a beautiful creature.

Calli’s smile widened. “Her name is really, ‘Rich-Earth-Warm-And-Soft-From-A-Summer-Shower-To-Play-In.”

“Mud.” Bri smiled.

“It’s not far to Castleton,” Sevair said. “It would be a very short ride.”

Mud batted her eyelashes at him, whickered.

“Don’t you fly?” Calli asked.

“Ayes, but I don’t keep a volaran.”

“Mud can be yours. I’ll call others for you,” Calli said.

Another bow from Sevair to Calli, this one a stiff inclination of the torso. “I thought you and your bondmate were settled on your estate.”

“We are,” Calli said, “but since Bri and Elizabeth have arrived, Marrec and I have decided to come with our children to the Castle—and Castleton—at least once a week.

“Children!”

“We adopted. Continue to adopt.” Calli’s smile remained in place, but hurt shadowed her eyes.

Bri couldn’t help it—she heard a tiny tinkle of chimes in the back of her mind and Calli’s Song became emphasized, not the Song of the Exotique Calli, the total person, but just the physical. The murmur of her second chakra was low, or rather, one note of that melody was missing. Calli’s ovaries were gone. She couldn’t have children.

“You know, don’t you?” Calli said quietly. “You can see my physical health?”

“No,” Bri said absently. “I hear it.” She met Calli’s gaze. “You are in excellent health.”

“Exceptional,” Calli said.

“Yes.”

Sevair shifted beside her, and Calli’s attention went back to him, even as Bri absorbed the shock of being able to hear what might be wrong with a person. Mud pawed the ground.

Calli said, “Surely as a Citymaster, you travel.”

Nodding, Sevair said, “I have a coach.”

Calli looked at the streak in his hair. “You have the Power to call wild volarans. I sense you’re an excellent partner.”

His expression froze into an impassive mask. “My sister loved volarans. She had planned to call one.” He lifted a strong shoulder, dropped it. “Or several. Perhaps become a Chevalier. That didn’t happen.”

Since he used the past tense, Bri knew what had happened.

“Ah,” Calli said. “But it would be easier for you to perform your duties if you flew with a volaran. Using their distance magic, your trips would be much shorter. I’m surprised no one has considered this before.”

With a lift of one brow, Sevair said, “Are you? The Marshalls have avoided telling the Citymasters much, the Circlets—”

Calli waved that away. “I understand. Lladranan society has been segmented.” She lifted her chin. “But we Exotiques are mending the situation. Mud will love to partner with you.”

“I don’t have room near my house to stable volarans.” Sevair’s voice was even.

“Contrary,” Bri said.

He frowned, then said, “We’ll fly to Castleton. Mud, would you like to be my regular mount? Stay in Castleton?”

Mud pranced in place.

Calli slid her gaze to Bri, “Along with the estate and the salary, volarans are an Exotique perk.”

Bri didn’t answer. She looked at Elizabeth, who was watching their little scene, hearing the shadows of their conversation through their twin link. Bri would be the first of them to fly on a winged horse! Elizabeth might stay in the safety of the Castle, but Bri would fly! She couldn’t prevent a grin, and heard an audible mind-sniff from Elizabeth.

9

With a last stroke of Mud’s softly feathered mane, Bri said, “I’ll get my backpack.”

Calli nodded and Bri was off before Sevair could say anything. She walked fast. Her feet weren’t itching, but her hands were, wanting to pet that volaran more. Riding a flying horse! That would be worth this trip. She shut down the thought of her parents. They were in Hawaii right now and enjoying themselves, basking in the sun.

Then she was at the door and up, into the suite that was the most luxurious quarters she’d stayed in since she’d left home for college. She grabbed her pack, stuffed her clothes into it, eyed her stack of books and dumped them in, too, then hesitated. She fumbled for the digital camera, checked the memory. She had plenty, had just put in new for her Dad’s birthday party.

When she reached the courtyard again, she saw that the clouds had parted and the sun shone bright, gleaming on Mud’s rich hide, lighting hints of red in Sevair Masif’s hair, turning Calli’s coloring of blond hair, blue eyes, pinkened cheeks into a perfect picture. So she snapped it, and tucked the little camera back into the pack, began to hook up the charging cord up to the solar panel, then had second thoughts. Who knew what spectrum of light this sun had? How the solar power collected would affect Earth devices? She replaced the memory bit with a new one, took the shot again, backed up and took a few pics of the Castle—the keep and Temple. Then she connected the camera to the battery pack, not the solar panel, and headed out.

Calli stared at the backpack and touched a silver grid. “What is this?”

“Solar power, for all my electronics except laptop. Which I didn’t bring with me anyway.” A little pang of regret, though it would have been useless here.

“I can’t believe this,” Calli said.

Bri thumbed on the music player, put an earbud next to Calli’s ear.

“Wow,” Calli said.

“What is that?” Sevair’s brows were down again.

Somehow Bri didn’t think he’d appreciate her music. Music for itchy feet. Loud and raucous. She sent him a cheeky smile. “Just toys.” She put the music player away. “Reminds me.” She pulled her cell from the pouch, looked at the power indicator which showed it was juiced though the connectivity showed nothing. She hit redial for Elizabeth’s apartment. Futile.

She gulped, turned the phone off, stuck it back in its pocket, made sure everything was protected. Shrugging, she said, “That was a communication device. Nothing.”

“Hmm,” he said.

“You had to try,” Calli said softly.

“Yes.”

Let’s fly! said Mud.

“Yes. Castleton awaits.” Sevair looked at the sundial affixed to a wall. “We’re not too late.”

Which told Bri that he’d arrived at their suite very early, probably calculating that it would take quite a while to get them moving. Clever man.

“And arriving by volaran will be impressive,” Calli said.

His smile returned. “Indeed.”

The volaran had been equipped with a long modified western saddle that would carry two. Sevair swung onto the flying horse with ease. Bri handed her bag to Calli then mounted, too. The light robe scrunched high above her knees.

“Your sister is wearing the right tabard for flying,” Sevair said. He took the pack from Calli and examined it. “Odd cloth.”

“Yes.”

“Something from the Exotique Terre machines. Good craftsmanship. Excellent design.”

“It’s, um, magical.” She tapped the panels. “These will capture the sun’s power and give it to my toys.”

“Amazing.”

He strapped her bag onto Mud. The volaran craned her neck to sniff at it. Sounds and a couple of images flickered to Bri, but she didn’t catch the details.

Calli chuckled. “Mud says your bag smells of many interesting scents.”

“I’m glad she likes it.”

Calli’s hand grabbed Bri’s. “We’re only two miles away.”

Bri stared down at Calli. “I’ve been in places where two miles away is like another dimension. I reckon this is one of them.”

Flushing, Calli nodded. “Ayes.” She held out a small sphere. “A crystal ball for you.” Her mouth twisted. “Think of it as a cell phone programmed to call any Exotique. We all have one.”

“Thanks.” Bri took the inch-sized sphere. It was warm in her hands. Naturally, or from Calli’s body heat? Bri started to pocket it, realized she wasn’t wearing her jeans.

“Here.” Sevair’s large, calloused hand slid across her thigh and sent tingles through her. Now that she thought of it, he smelled good too. But he was holding fabric of her tunic apart and she saw a large pocket.

“Merci,” she said.

He clicked his tongue and the volaran trotted to the center of the courtyard. Sevair braced.

Large wings opened, lifted, and they were off the ground and up, up, up!

They were flying! The sheer exhilaration of it, of zooming through the air was like a fabulous, fantastic dream.

As soon as the initial glee wore off, Bri was inundated with Song. Loud, somehow horsey-beats—clip, clip, clop—and brass came from Mud, along with an occasional flat note reminding Bri of a squelching footstep in wet earth.

Then there was the Song of the man behind her. Now that the only natural sound was air rushing by her, she heard it, thought she heard his steady heartbeat—a little rapid as her own must be—but strong and even. To her surprise she didn’t just get a few notes from him, but a long, streaming melody, and she liked the tune. Definitely intriguing. Strong, stable but with an unexpected intricate twine of notes repeating at well spaced intervals, changing minutely each time. As life changed the man?

Personal Songs must change as an individual did. If so, her pattern must be shot to hell, and Elizabeth’s, too. She chuckled deep in her throat; the arms around her tightened and glancing back she thought she saw another smile.

Mud was flying slowly. Stretching out her moments of glory? The road from the Castle and its walls to the city of Castleton, also encircled by stout walls, was steep downward, and Mud had hardly dropped. Instead she circled over the city.

“A tour by air,” Sevair said. His whisper puffed warm air by Bri’s right ear. “Fabulous.”

Pride rang in his Song, too, a gleaming silver note. Dedication, a repeating theme of a cadence that reminded Bri of deep stone-like tones, like bedrock singing. What a fancy! But where better to explore fancies than atop a flying horse?

“Lower, please,” Sevair said loudly.

Bri saw rooftops of red tile and gray and blue slate. Some buildings were three stories, a few four, and only one was five.

Masif pointed to it. “The Guildhall.” Again that silver bell chime from his Song.

As they circled down, Bri saw the part nearest the Castle, probably the oldest part, was jumbled on each side of a very thick gatehouse that sent out equally thick walk-ways and occasional towers along the walls. Toward the center, the city became more orderly, with houses surrounding parklike squares or circles. Commercial districts surrounded stone courtyards and pumps or fountains. A small stream threaded through the city, and the walls appeared newer and even stronger around the lower third of the city. She thought she could see where an old wall might have been.

Mud heaved a sigh Bri both heard telepathically and felt beneath her. She got the picture. Time to descend. Even the duty-bound Sevair behind her seemed reluctant; she wondered if he ever allowed himself to play.

Images came to her mind, another volaran, two, near Sevair—the winged horse’s projections.

Sevair replied with an image of roomy stalls with a feed trough full of hay and grain.

Bri realized negotiations were taking place and was amused and interested.

Mud showed Sevair dressed in Chevalier leathers with a raised sword. Flying down to a battlefield. Yellow and black and gray things Bri couldn’t quite discern but which made shivers crawl up her spine were fighting with humans and volarans.

“Ttho!” His negative rang in her mind, must have carried to others. He showed himself dressed in rich pants and shirt, with tabard, flying to other towns and cities.

Whickering in satisfaction, Mud dropped down to the courtyard, and she sent one last vision—of her throat opening and Song flowing from it to other volarans. Bri knew the image and the Song—Mud would tell others that Sevair wanted her kind, would care for them well, would not be fighting. He’d be flying for transportation to other fascinating places. The volaran added a picture of Bri at the end.

Bri laughed.

They landed in what appeared to be the town square, though it was a long, cobbled rectangle. People stood on all sides, looking at her.

Sevair dismounted and bowed.

She was reluctant to get off the winged steed, and Sevair reached up, put his big hands around her waist and lifted her down with ease. Her eyes met his and she saw he was very serious again. As always.

His fingers slid down to hers, then he lifted her hand with his in a gesture of triumph. “This is Bri Drystan who saved widow Marchand’s boy last night and healed all who were sick of the Dark disease. Our Exotique Medica!”

Cheers rose from the square. Bri was surrounded by happy faces. Tears stung. She’d known gratitude before, but it usually came from an individual, not a crowd. Awesome.

Bri’s minutes of basking in glory lasted only until she noticed Sevair conversing with other well-dressed people and watching her from the corner of his eye. She knew that look. She had purple streaks in her hair, an alternative-lifestyle fashion statement that she now regretted since it meant that she might be watched all the time.

No one came up to talk to her. When she stepped close to someone, they sidled back. So they respected Exotiques, were glad she and Elizabeth, and the others, were here, but the Exotiques were also obvious aliens in a culture with few differences.