Protector of the Flight

8

The sound of strumming strings came once. “That’s the doorharp,” Marian said.

Calli remembered seeing something like half an egg slicer mounted on the door.

When the door opened a huge man and much smaller woman entered. Just the sight of their strong, intertwined aura had Calli sitting down on a little sofa, blinking. They brought music with them. It was the strongest tune she’d heard from people, truly a Song with a capital S.

Alexa introduced the two Marshalls as Mace, the arms master, and his wife, Clua, who was a battle strategist.

“You know, Calli, it would be much easier if you took just a drop of the potion,” Marian said, pulling the little bottle from her robe pocket.

Calli wondered if it was the same bottle or if she and Jaquar had concocted a large batch. She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Silvery laughter came from Clua. Mace stroked his wife’s hair. They were still holding hands. With a kiss on their linked fingers, the woman walked toward Calli, face welcoming, hands outstretched.

Their aura didn’t break apart, but stretched, and in stretching, remained the same deep gold color and thickness. It was as if wherever they went singly, they would still keep the same strong and intimate connection with each other. Awesome.

Automatically, Calli took Clua’s hands.

An image of a calendar flipped pages going back. Years. Calli was swept into the past, experiencing the Choosing ceremony of Clua and Mace.

The first thing she noticed was that she felt woozy, dizzy. A hand—her hand?—passed a goblet to someone and she noticed an aftertaste in her mouth. Another emotion swept her, anticipation at the Choosing, then, as she looked around a large room with stone walls—her Power amplified. Her eyes were sharper, her eardrums nearly exploding with the loud tangle of personal Songs.

She looked down at a table at a variety of items. A beret—nothing Calli had seen so far in this world, old-fashioned?—a quill pen, a book, a small carved volaran, a locket, a chain with keys, a brooch. She touched each and received impressions of the person who’d placed it on the table. Each time, she saw a colored link connecting the person to the object. Sometimes that connection was a thread, sometimes a cord. Once a chain. Just as the melodies she heard varied in strength and prettiness—a whisper of a tune too simple to please; a loud, intricately layered Song that pulled at her, awakened feelings deep in her core.

Her hand hovered over a locket. An oblong thing of gold, inset with black with a diamond in the center. She brushed her fingers across it and felt a surge of desire, longing, be- longing from it. Looking up, she saw a huge young man dressed in a short velvet robe and tights, arms crossed, staring at her. She couldn’t look away.

He was too big, too tough, too sophisticated for her.

Forcing herself to withdraw her fingers, she turned to the other tokens.

Nothing felt as right as the locket.

Time telescoped and Calli was able to distance herself a bit from the experience and feel the woman’s fingers clamped over hers in the here and now.

She watched as if hovering outside of herself—like she’d done in a couple of the surgeries—while Clua tested each item time and again, then finally listened to the rush of her blood and heart and bone and took the locket.

A shout of celebration rose from many voices—her family—and Mace literally leaped over people to claim her.

Clua let go of Calli’s hands. Calli staggered back to sink onto the sofa. “Oh. My. God,” she said, even as she heard the Marshalls leaving, Clua chuckling.

“Wow,” said Marian, sitting beside her. “Tell us what happened. Magical ritual, right? From what I can tell, I don’t think Clua ever wrote down the story for the Lorebook of Choosing and Bonding. She hadn’t ever met Mace before, that I have heard. But for the record, I’ll need every detail from you!”

“Marian, shut up,” said Alexa, wriggling in on Calli’s other side. It was a tight fit. Alexa stroked her back and the affectionate caress seemed to draw the stunning magic from Calli until she breathed steadily again. “Calli, you need to watch out how you touch people,” Alexa said.

“Tell me about it.”

“Sometimes they don’t mean to sucker punch you, sometimes they do, but we’ve all had an experience like that.”

Marian said, “I still want to hear every detail. What were the circumstances? Did the Choosing work? Well, duh! Obviously. How did it work? Was the magic very strong?”

“Yeah,” Calli said, shaking off the last of the weird feeling that she was living two lives in two different times. She rubbed her face, then dropped her hands and straightened to glare at Marian. “I’ll be drugged!”

“I promise you, you’ll be fine,” Marian soothed. She went to a bookshelf and curved her fingers around empty air, hummed a few notes. A thin book appeared in her hands. “This is the English version of the Lorebook of Exotiques. I’ve got the recipe here, all herbs we know except for one.” She flipped pages as she walked back. “And I’ve had that particular herb twice in larger amounts than you’ll receive. I’m still here, alive and kicking.” She found the entry and handed the book to Calli. “Look for yourself.”

Calli did. “Cinnamon, nutmeg, mugwort, bay. Rose petals?”

Marian nodded.

Staring at the page she saw another ingredient. “Centauriana,” she murmured. Another horse word. Almost like a sign.

Calli felt as if a stampede had galloped right over her. “I need to go to bed.”

“Can I tell the Chevaliers that you’ll go through with the Choosing and Bonding ceremony tomorrow afternoon?” Alexa pressed.

Exhaustion dropped on Calli like a thick horse blanket, smothering logical thought. Her vision blurred. When she blinked, everything still seemed out of focus. Sounds—more, music—enveloped her, running through her mind, preeminent among the strains was the tune of the Marshall Pair. They’d been so obviously a couple, obviously in love, and after many years. They believed in the Ritual.

Blinking again, she stared at Alexa and Marian who waited for her decision. Tonight both of these women would go to bed with men who loved them, were committed to them.

Loneliness ate at Calli, along with envy. A matchmaking ritual. The idea tempted. Her own judgment was lousy, and Alexa and Marian had found their loves on Lladrana, so why couldn’t she? What she’d seen of the couples, here…And magic worked. What the hell. Why not? What did she have to lose? “Sure, set it up.”

They smiled and came toward her, hugged her and the three of them linked and a huge Song filled Calli’s ears and traveled to her heart.

“The Song of Colorado women,” Marian whispered.

“See you tomorrow morning,” Alexa said. Both women left their arms around Calli’s waist.

Marian said, “Remember you aren’t alone. We’re here to help every step of the way. Don’t panic.”

“Just yell and we’ll come running.”

“Huh. Sounds like you’re trying to tell me something,” Calli said.

“I panicked,” Marian said.

“I did, too, especially when I saw my hair turned white overnight.”

Sleepiness fled. Calli looked down at Alexa. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Then Calli studied the wide silver streak in Marian’s hair. “I suppose you didn’t have that when you came, either?”

“Lladrana can be tough on hair color,” Marian said.

“I like being blond.”

“Hey, another reason to stay here.” Alexa grinned. “No dumb-blonde jokes.”

That just reminded Calli that her father thought her stupid and cowardly. She tensed. The other women noticed, of course.

“Sore spot? I’m sorry,” Alexa said, squeezing her into a tighter hug. The woman’s grip was like iron.

“I definitely need to get to bed,” Calli said.

“Right.” Alexa withdrew and marched to the door.

The short walk was silent, but the quiet between them was easy. Calli hadn’t had good female friends since high school. Nice to be part of a girl crowd.

Alexa opened the outer door of Calli’s suite and kissed her cheek, so did Marian.

“Thanks, guys.” Calli’s voice was hoarse with appreciation, weariness. She entered a narrow security corridor and turned left until she found another door, a tiny entryway and a third door, and finally got into the bedroom. Soft light glowed with the radiance of a summer evening from what looked like little suns on torches. Pulling off her boots and stripping, Calli slid into cool sheets. The lights went out and Calli fell into welcoming darkness.

She woke to hail pounding against the curved tower windows in the middle of the night and shot straight up in bed—a big four-poster bed with curtains. Weird.

She was still in Lladrana. Carefully, she stretched, and found her muscles in prime working order. Wiggling her hips, she tested her pelvis. Fine.

Oh, man.

Did she even want to wake up at home? At least the problems here were new, didn’t seem as crushing as fighting her father for her home and her vision of the ranch. That would take a lot of money and effort to win. More money to fix up the ranch the way she wanted.

If she was stuck here, what had she gotten herself into with that damn Choosing and Bonding ceremony? Dare she trust the “magic” to find her a man who’d match her? What was she thinking. Was she totally crazy?

But those Marshalls—Mace and Clua—had been the most married couple she’d ever seen. Like Marian and Jaquar, they’d die together. She trembled. Could she possibly want that much connection?

That much love?

Yes.

This need to give and receive love came from deep inside. As if all the love she’d poured onto her father over the years had bounced off him and come back to her and she had this great store.

Getting up, she found her clothes washed and folded on a chest at the end of the bed and just stared at them. Someone had been in her rooms? Who had the key?

Surely it would only have been Alexa or Marian checking on her. Still, the sooner she had her own rooms and key, the better. Next to her things was a stack of underwear. In her size. Must be magic, there, too—she touched her old clothes, noticing the texture of denim and cotton. Alien to this world.

She turned, staggered back at the sight of a small neon-blue volaran hovering near the corner of one of the bed’s foot posts. The animal was only about a foot long.

She pressed a hand against her pounding heart. “My God, you startled me!” She knew this…person. The energy of the being was familiar. There was her sixth sense again and she disliked how much she was depending upon it.

I am Sinafinal, the feycoocu.

Of course she was. Staring at the creature, she realized she’d seen it before. As a hawk. As the cat. Calli sat on the chest.

You are not crazy. You are on Lladrana. You should go through the Choosing and Bonding ceremony.

“And I should listen to you, too, huh?”

Yes. The volaran loop-de-looped a couple of times, leaving a bright blue trail behind her.

“Why—”

You should stay here on Lladrana. Here you will have a love of your own, children, land, a home.

“Guaranteed?” Calli infused great sarcasm into the word.

Sinafinal fluttered up to within six inches of Calli’s eyes and hung there. Yes, guaranteed.

Calli’s stomach clutched.

Everyone wants to be loved. Why do you see your big heart as being a fault?

Because Dad never valued love? This introspection was getting too damn intense. She didn’t like it. She preferred action.

By this time tomorrow night you will be sharing a big bed with a lover, a man drawn particularly to you.

“Uhn.” That idea was so good it hurt. Made Calli’s chest ache.

When you both awake the next morning, you will choose your land. You will have enough zhiv from the land and an annuity as an Exotique that you will never want for any material thing for the rest of your life. Enough to build the perfect stables and training grounds for horses and volarans.

The little volaran was sure spinning a sweet story.

In three weeks you will have adopted a child.

Calli flopped back, banged her head on the wooden footboard behind her. “Ouch! Dammit all!”

Sinafinal zoomed over and perched on her head, Calli could feel four little hooves, and goose bumps covered her body. With two flaps of the magical being’s wings, Calli’s headache was gone. Oh, boy. She rubbed the back of her head anyway. “Why are you being so insistent about this?”

Because without you, the volarans will not bond as much as needed with humans. They won’t be ready for the great, final fight.

Calli swallowed. “Who won’t be ready? What final fight?”

There will be much more loss of life.

“I don’t want to hear this.”

That’s why I am telling you.

I don’t want to believe you. Though she hadn’t said the words aloud, the feycoocu answered her anyway.

I know.

“Hell.”

The neon-blue volaran examined one of her wingtips. If you do not believe me and do not continue with the Choosing and Bonding ritual, I will convince everyone that you should consult the Singer for a Song Quest. Perhaps a strong vision direct from the Song will be powerful enough to convince you of your worth here.

Ooooh. Zinged several hot buttons all right. “Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,” Calli muttered. “This had better be a dream.”

It isn’t. You will awake here. The little blue volaran’s muzzle stretched in an unnatural smile.

“Go away. I’m planning on waking up in my own bed on the Rocking Bar T.” But it sounded weaker and weaker to her.

Sinafinal circled the room. All the Exotiques will have companions. Alexa has me. Marian has Tuckerinal. You have Thunder.

Calli snorted. “Sidekicks. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m going to bed. I hope not to see you in my dreams.”

Sinafinal dipped a wing and flew through a closed window into the night.

Calli looked out at the darkness below—no lights. She looked at the moon and star-bright sky. Not Earth’s sky, not even from the southern hemisphere, too many stars for that. She shrugged. When she woke she’d either be home or not. If she was here, the day would be packed with fateful events from the moment she opened her eyes.

9

Calli woke and stretched luxuriously. The bed was wonderful, too bad she was alone in it. She must be treating herself to a good hotel near the next competition…everything rushed back.

She was in Lladrana. Or at least she wasn’t in her own bed back at the ranch. What was written in those old-time black-and-white movies? “Meanwhile, back at the ranch…” A hollow laugh rasped from her. What little peace she’d felt when she woke up vanished.

But there were compensations. She walked from the bedroom to the den where she could see the Landing Field. A couple of volarans and riders were already out, lifting their wings and soaring. Her breath caught at the beauty.

That could be her…flying into the dawn. She watched until they diminished into specks and she became aware of standing naked in a strangely furnished den—with books and scrolls in an alphabet she couldn’t read.

Her breath came in short bursts and she felt the way she did just before a race, scared and excited and determined. She’d get through this day and the one after that…Back in the bedroom, she dressed near the windows. The only person who’d see her would be riding volaran-back and she’d see them first.

Lladrana. Fabulous flying horses. Horrible monsters. Nobody had talked much about the monsters she’d be expected to fight. Trying to keep the really bad downside of this life low key. Her stomach clenched. As if they could. As if she hadn’t seen wisps of them in Alexa’s mind, in Bastien’s and Jaquar’s and in Marian’s—a man with tentacles on his face reeking of evil power. Yeah, she had inklings. Enough that it made her pace, unready to open the door and explore on her own. Silly, but with a day full of such strange and magical experiences as the day before, she intended to be cautious.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…what would her dad be doing? Thinking she’d run somewhere, no doubt. He wouldn’t gloat. That would take too much emotion, show too much an investment in her, which he didn’t have.

The doorharp rippled, and Marian’s projected tones said, “Calli, ready for breakfast?”

Calli didn’t answer.

“Think she’ll drink a language potion this morning?” Marian asked.

“Not a chance. Besides, if she doesn’t back out of that Choosing and Bonding ceremony, she’ll get the language transfer in bed.” There was a lilt in Alexa’s voice.

Calli decided she didn’t like being talked about. The two women were probably not going away. She opened the door. Standing before her, looking perfectly fresh, were Alexa and Marian; near their feet were two small greyhounds.

Salutations, Calli, said one. Sinafinal.

Salutations, Calli, said the other. I am Tuckerinal.

“Tuck’s my ex-hamster,” said Marian. “He’s a feycoocu like that one.” She pointed to Sinafinal.

I have given her my name so she can call on me at any time, said Sinafinal, my mated name.

Marian grinned and kissed Calli on the cheek. “Good morning. You should know that only a few people know Sinafinal’s name. Only Alexa and Bastien of the Marshalls. Only Jaquar and I of the Circlets.”

“Huh,” Calli said. Two minutes on the threshold of her room and stuff was overwhelming her again. Magical hamsters. Sheesh.

“You really are in a different dimension.” Alexa looked sympathetic. “You slept. Let’s go eat.”

“Try not to drop too many more bombs on me, huh?” Calli said. Alexa opened her mouth, closed it, but Calli figured they were probably thinking the same thing. In circumstances like these she’d be getting hit with strange problems every hour.

She ate in the richly paneled Marshalls’ Dining Room, set up like one of the fanciest restaurants she’d ever seen—pastel tablecloths on round and rectangular tables, embroidered in rich colors, with matching napkins. Crystal. Fine china.

She had a great breakfast of a cheese omelette, bacon and fluffy croissants, and chuckled to herself. Something French she was addicted to, the cowgirl loved croissants, one of the ways she chose her restaurants on the rodeo circuit. She’d eaten everything from preprepared, frozen, grocery store-bought croissants to flaky ribbons of pastry steaming from the oven.