Protector of the Flight Read online

Magic.

  She really needed that whiskey.

  Marrec could hardly believe Dark Lance was back and they were flying to battle, just as they had for many years. He swallowed hard. The cool wind stung his eyes. He blinked and looked around him, awed by the sight of all the Marshalls and Chevaliers streaming to the battlefield at the same time. Bright colors, shining armor and gleaming volaran coats flowed like banners against the summer blue sky.

  Usually there’d be fighters caught elsewhere when the alarm rang, who’d arrive later, but all the Chevaliers of the Castle had been near the Keep, or lounging in Temple Ward, to glimpse the new Exotique.

  So they flew together and Marrec’s heart lifted. The Castle alarm was connected to the magical fence posts along the north border of Lladrana. When it rang, the pattern of the notes and the stridency alerted them to the place where the monsters invaded and the number of horrors to expect. Experience had taught him to understand the alarm. They flew to the northeast.

  As he watched, opaque bubbles formed around volarans and riders, masking the bold heraldic colors and gleam of mail. “Distance magic,” spells that increased the distance a volaran flew with every beat of its wings. Warriors could fly immense distances and engage the enemy near the border instead of dealing with monsters deep in Lladrana.

  Need Power for Distance Spell, said Dark Lance.

  5

  Marrec sent Power to his volaran. Together they curved the distance-magic spell around them. With every beat of wings, leagues were covered.

  Dark Lance whinnied in surprise. More Power.

  It was his first real mental communication since he’d returned.

  Yes, Marrec said. I linked with others, with the Marshalls and stronger Chevaliers to heal the new Exotique. The pathways in my mind that channel Power opened more.

  Good, Dark Lance said, then fell silent. The volaran had never been one to speak while flying unless it was urgent. Their few real conversations had taken place in the stables. Marrec ached to question Dark Lance on the disappearance but had to put his curiosity aside to prepare for battle.

  When the bubble of distance magic popped, Marrec rose from a light trance and watched the ground near. They descended to a large clearing in the shadow of the mountains. Dark Lance was following Lady Hallard’s volaran down to the west side of the battle. The Marshalls were already down and fighting as the incredible team they were—fifty linked minds decimated the monsters.

  With a clutch of his gut, Marrec saw there were plenty of foes still available. This was one of the largest attacks he’d ever seen. Had the Dark taken note that they’d struggled to repel the last few incursions—and on horseback, not volarans? He was all too sure of that.

  Not one slayer, render or soul-sucker could be allowed to escape into the interior of Lladrana.

  He slipped his shield onto his right arm, unsheathed his broadsword.

  “Marrec!” Two volarans and riders were at his left, Chevaliers sworn to Lady Hallard, a man and a woman with whom he usually teamed. All of them could speak with their volarans. He hesitated.

  Dark Lance didn’t, and Marrec was pulled into a loose connection of minds. The other volarans were mere murmurs.

  That mixed bunch, left! cried Sharmane, diving toward a group of ten.

  Renders are mine! Jon shouted, heading for a massive black-furred beast with razor-sharp claws.

  Soul-suckers! Marrec called. Dark Lance trembled, but Marrec was determined and urged his mount toward the two soul-suckers on the fringes. Soul-suckers rated the best bounty and he wanted some hides.

  I will Shield you both, Sharmane yelled.

  Dark Lance caught a soul-sucker with one hoof in its nose hole, smashing the gray head apart with a killing blow. The three tentacles at its right shoulder writhed, one whipping across Marrec’s waist. A yellow slayer spine shot to him. He deflected the poisonous arrow with his shield, swung his sword and decapitated another soul-sucker, continued his blow to slash the back of the yellow-furred slayer. The thing shrieked and turned, spines shooting from its arm straight to Dark Lance.

  Terror flooded Dark Lance. He reared. Spines struck, bounced off the protective shield both Marrec and Sharmane had slapped over the volaran. Marrec pulled the fear from his steed’s mind, using the emotion to drive his own Power, making his strikes harder, faster. He sent iron calm and fierce determination to the volaran. We shield. You live.

  Only the moments mattered, the next blow, ducking, turning, spearing. Slashing, kicking, cleaving. His mind held the volaran’s, refusing to let the winged horse panic, bolstering its innate courage. Imposing his will for the duration of the fight.

  He caught sight of the bright blue line of energy from a newly raised fence post. In a fury of fighting, he forced a render and a soul-sucker onto the border line and killed them. The energy field flared high and secure at that point and Marrec grinned, a rictus of triumph.

  Done! came the loud shout of the Marshalls, rushing from mind to mind to the Chevaliers. The battle was over, all the horrors destroyed.

  He panted a spell over his blade to clean it, ordered Dark Lance to the ground. Marrec wiped his forehead with his arm, winced as he finally felt the sting of two sucker rounds that had raised bumps on his cheek. His muscles were tired, aching, but his blood still sang with the aftermath of victory. He grinned at Sharmane and Jon and went to count his booty.

  He found six soul-sucker bodies with his killing mark, three renders and a couple of slayers. A third of his kill went to Sharmane who’d acted as his Shield. He gave his tally to Lady Hallard and she took her third, choosing to keep the two headless soul-suckers with most of their hide and tentacles. Soul-sucker was now in demand for hats ever since Bastien Vauxveau had shown how well they protected a person from the frink-worms that fell with the rain.

  When Marrec piled his prize in the spell-net, ready to take to an assayer, Dark Lance lifted his lip. Nasty smell.

  “Yes, but I made some decisions when you were gone. From now on we’ll be taking all our kill.”

  The volaran shuddered. Uses more Power to fly back.

  “From both of us.” He attached two long lines to rings on both sides of Dark Lance’s saddle to the net. “I promise this catch will feel no heavier than a pouch of silver coins. And I’ll buy a better net. There’s zhiv to be made in selling hides. The demand for slayer and render hide has gone up from the City States and Shud.”

  Dark Lance snorted, then looked away. We last.

  Marrec looked around. His volaran was right. Everyone else was gone. An atavistic tingle slithered down his spine. The sun was setting and they’d be lucky to be back at the Castle before dark. He tested his reserves and found them acceptable for the flight. That was a relief. Not everyone had taken their kills. The Marshalls and wealthier nobles who had paying estates didn’t need the extra zhiv and only claimed trophies they wanted mounted. A whole soul-sucker was a few strides away…. He snorted in disgust at the idea of becoming a scavenger…but he wanted to better his lot in life. Still, his net was full and his Power limited.

  And night threatened. There was no local landowner so far north to offer hospitality. Died out long ago, just as had Marrec’s parents and the rest of his village. His memories of that massacre were blessedly vague. Again he shivered, then the light dimmed just enough for the boundary line to brighten the evening and he was comforted.

  The ancient fence posts that had begun failing a couple of years ago were now being replaced. Everyone now knew how, and how to energize the boundary line from one fence post to the next. This bit of land was secure.

  That didn’t mean he wanted to hang around. “Let’s go home.”

  Home, echoed Dark Lance wistfully. To Marrec’s relief he saw the image of the Castle stables in the volaran’s mind, instead of Volaran Valley. Thank the Song.

  An embarrassed Thunder took off, with a brief telepathic, I must report on our ride together. Huh. Calli rolled her shoulders and fell into a standard analysis of her
performance. The flight had been magnificent. She’d bonded with the volaran more than with the simple empathy she’d felt for her lost Spark. They’d been partners, but with her in the lead. She sensed a volaran’s threshold of going “right brain,” acting in panic, was far higher than a horse’s. They must not have had many predators, probably not for a long time.

  Marian and Jaquar took Calli to the Map Room on the other side of the courtyard. Something in the way people referred to the room jittered her nerves so she thought of it in capital letters. When they reached the door, she noted incised golden letters in curlicued words which she couldn’t read. More and more this was seeming less a dream, more like an alternate reality, but how could she believe that?

  Jaquar opened the door and held it. She stepped in to see a topographical map as large as a California king bedsheet angled before her, looking like no country she’d ever seen before. And it was animated. Bright yellow-white dots pulsed fast, other dots, smaller and yellower, blinked slower.

  Marian marched up to the map and touched the largest island off the western coast. “This is where Jaquar and I, and my mentor, Bossgond, live.” She indicated a small castle in the middle of the map. “This is where we are now.”

  Calli gulped.

  Jaquar pointed to the lights Calli had noticed. “This is the magical northern boundary, Power strung between the fence posts—” he tapped the lights “—to keep the horrors out.”

  Nape prickling, Calli took a few steps closer. Her mouth had dried. She swept a tongue over her lips. “There are gaps.”

  “Indeed,” Jaquar said. “The old fence posts are failing. Only recently have we been able to replace them—”

  “Alexa’s task,” Marian interrupted, her dark blue eyes serious.

  “Alexa’s task.” Calli cleared her throat. “And yours?”

  Marian shrugged. “I had a couple. The Marshalls hid the fact that the fence posts were failing and the monsters were invading easily and in greater numbers. This splintered already distant communities within the culture.” She gestured to herself and Jaquar, indicating their golden headbands. “Such as the Circlets of the Tower Community.”

  “And most especially divided the Chevaliers from the Marshalls,” Jaquar said. “Alexa was Summoned for the Marshalls, Marian for the Sorcerers and Sorceresses, and you for the Chevaliers.” He took his wife’s hand and kissed her fingers. “Marian has done a brilliant job of mending the breach between the Marshalls and Tower…as well as being an ambassador from the Tower Community to others. They trust us now.”

  “As much as less magical people trust the most magical,” Marian said with a wry smile.

  A hum came from the map and both Marian and Jaquar turned back to it. “Ah,” said Jaquar. He tapped a spot on the border where bright flashes came. “The battle is over and the Marshalls and Chevaliers are returning.” He let out a big sigh. “We lost no one and there’s a new fence post. The border is strengthened to the next post, so we killed some horrors.” He eyed the map critically. “No larger monsters made it very far into Lladrana.”

  That was the second time Calli had heard “monsters.” She straightened her shoulders. “Guess that’s what I’m supposed to do, right, kill monsters? Maybe stop the invasion?”

  Marian’s forehead creased. “Since the volarans disappeared and only returned after you were Summoned, it can be extrapolated that not only will you mend the divisiveness within the Chevalier community, and their distrust of the Marshalls, but also—um—speak on behalf of the volarans to everyone, particularly those who fly on—with—them.”

  Calli blinked as she unraveled that sentence. She wished Marian had spoon-fed it to her in little bites.

  But maybe she was just in an elaborate dream. Maybe a coma. Damn! Not more medical bills.

  Jaquar’s penetrating stare pulled her from her thoughts. “But the Chevaliers fly to battle. They are our—” he frowned as if searching for a word “—knights. They would expect you to fly, train and fight with them.”

  Marian put an arm around her and squeezed, a small smile on her lips as they met each other’s gaze. “I know it’s difficult to believe you’re on another world, let alone understand what’s going on in a few short hours.”

  Rubbing her temples, Calli didn’t answer—but something else was telling her she might not be in a dream. “Is there a toilet around here?”

  The Circlets smiled. Marian said, “We don’t know the Castle well, there’s one in Alexa’s guest suite and in the Circlets’ Apartments, both in the Keep.” She cleared her throat. “You’ll be staying there tonight. The medica recommended you be close, and both Alexa and I would like to talk to you.”

  Indoctrinate her. “I’m not staying.” If she was really here. Still, her bladder was full…but she’d had dreams about that, too.

  “It took all the Marshalls and the Chevaliers to bring you here. How do you think you’ll get back?” asked Jaquar.

  Calli could feel her expression set into pure stubbornness. She didn’t care.

  What could these dream people do to hurt her? She shifted. She didn’t want to know, but confidence and fearlessness were as important in relation to people as they were to horses. “I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.” A thought struck and her smile widened. Horses didn’t lie in any of their body language and she believed volarans couldn’t either. “And I can double-check anything you tell me with the volarans, can’t I?”

  Jaquar’s eyes twinkled. “That you can.”

  “I promise you I won’t ever lie to you,” Marian said. Her aura throbbed with what Calli sensed was pure truth.

  “Okay,” Calli said.

  “On my word of honor,” Marian said.

  Calli nodded. “Right.” She turned to the door.

  “One moment,” Jaquar said. An extra lilt in his voice caught Calli’s attention. He sure was learning English quickly. She glanced at him.

  “Behold,” he said.

  Marian coughed.

  He waved and huge chunks of the map went golden yellow. “These are the unoccupied and unclaimed estates of Lladrana. Many are very prosperous. You will be allowed your choice.”

  Breath caught in her chest, Calli stared. Land of her own. Everything in the mountains of the north seemed empty, but so did a bunch of other places in the real “green” part of the land. Big pieces of land.

  Walking to the map, Marian pointed. “This is where Alexa and Bastien live. Her estate was vacant. She’s very wealthy now. As am I.”

  “Money’s not everything,” Calli muttered.

  “Alexa wanted a real home. She has that, and a man she loves. I have a husband and a tower I built myself with magic. I have great magical ability—Power. I’m free to research whatever I want, whenever I want and I’ll be founding a school in the future.

  “What do you want? I’m sure whatever it is, we can accommodate you,” Marian asked.

  They couldn’t give her children. No one could do that. Calli wanted to whirl on her heel and walk away, but her gaze was still stuck to the map. She wanted a spread of her own…and look at all that land! Part of her dream could come true. But land was the least of what she truly wanted. She wanted family. And her family, what there was of it, was back on Earth and had rejected her.

  Now the watery gob in her throat was more from sadness than surprise and dazzled greed. “I gotta pee,” she said. She headed out the door and across the courtyard to the keep building. The Circlets paced her.

  “What’s your vocation?” Marian asked and Calli knew she meant it in the widest sense of the word, what job really drew her.

  With a lift of her chin, she replied, “I’m a horse trainer.” She’d meant to be. When she returned to Colorado, she would find a way to make that dream come true.

  Marian smiled. “I bet you’re more of a ‘horse whisperer.’ But you can do that here. And I’m sure volarans need to be trained, too.” Marian waved a hand. “Or people and volarans need to learn how to partner each
other better.” She glanced back at the Map Room. “To better vanquish the Dark. The Marshalls and Chevaliers and Circlets are working on that.” Marian looked at Jaquar. He lifted and dropped a shoulder. Calli smiled. Obviously academics. Didn’t look at all like nerds or geeks or whatever, but they sure were more interested in more brainy things than physical.

  “The volarans talk to some others, too, most primarily Bastien. He’ll know what Chevalier-Volaran needs are,” Marian said.

  A few minutes later, Calli was checking out the large round guest suite in Alexa’s tower. There was a toilet, one of the old kind with the tank on the top, and a shower. She yearned for the shower but wasn’t about to take her clothes off. The way this day was going, anything could happen and she wasn’t about to be naked and vulnerable if it did.

  When she returned to the main room, the Circlets smiled at her with identical gleams in their eyes and Calli didn’t like it. Especially when she saw Jaquar shaking a dark purple bottle about two inches high. “What’s that?”

  “The language potion,” they said in unison.

  “Nope.”

  Jaquar sent her a winning smile. “You see how it worked for me.”

  “Like a charm,” Marian said.

  “Nope.” Calli wanted to slip her hands in her pockets but thought she should keep her hands free.

  “You could try just one drop,” Marian said. “That would be temporary.”

  Again shaking the bottle, Jaquar said, “There’s about three months’ worth of potion in here. The magical properties fade with time, so you learn the language gradually. After three months, you should know Lladranan.”

  “So you know English now, but if you don’t use the language every day, it will fade away?” asked Calli, intrigued.

  Jaquar frowned as if he didn’t like the idea of losing a skill. “True.”

  “Pillow talk,” Marian said. “And if you marry a Lladranan and bond with him mind to mind, you also learn the language, the more, ah, intimate you are.”

  “Many pathways are opened during sex.” Jaquar grinned again.