Protector of the Flight Page 9

  These were prime.

  “I guess we should tell her about the men,” Alexa said to Marian.

  “Thank you, but I’ve learned about men all by myself.” Calli didn’t look up from her meal.

  “What about men?” Marian sounded puzzled.

  Calli caught Alexa’s gesture from the edge of her vision. She could feel the Marshalls’ gazes boring into her, their curiosity surging around her. The chief honcho, Thealia Germaine, sat at the long table a few chairs down from them, watching, as if trying to puzzle out their conversation. Calli knew if she bolted, Thealia would be on her and have her hog-tied in an instant. The Marshalls took a deep interest in her, the Chevalier Exotique.

  “Lladranan men, like Faucon and Luthan,” Alexa said.

  As she recognized the handsome Chevalier’s name she’d seen before, Faucon, a thrill zipped down Calli’s spine. Would she be in bed with him by the time night fell? “And I think I’ll know a lot about Lladranan men by tomorrow morning.” Did she actually say that?

  Alexa snickered. Marian touched Calli’s shoulder. “This is important. A certain proportion of the Lladranan population find you—us—Exotiques, instinctively repulsive or attractive.”

  “Might be pheromones.” Alexa bit into a slice of toast.

  “Interesting idea,” Marian said.

  “With your coloring, blond hair and blue eyes, you’re even more Exotique than either of us,” Alexa said.

  Calli didn’t think so. Alexa was little and had green eyes, Marian auburn hair and blue eyes. “Faucon and Luthan?” Now that she recalled her meeting with Faucon last night in the stables, she remembered odd fluctuations in his aura. Was that why Bastien had moved him along, because Faucon was more blinded by her “Exotiqueness” than interested in her as a person?

  “Faucon is attracted to Exotiques. Luthan, Bastien’s brother, is repulsed. You’ll work with both of them. They should be here this morning to meet you.”

  “They are,” Marian murmured. She waved to three men who stood and approached.

  “Who’s the third?” Calli asked.

  “My brother Koz.” Marian hesitated. “His mind and soul and emotions are my brother Andrew in a Lladranan body.”

  Calli thought her mouth dropped wide open. She didn’t know that she liked the idea of different bodies and souls.

  Marian said, “It’s a long story. We should have just given you our Lorebooks. The Lorebooks of Exotique Alexa and the Lorebook of Exotique Marian, where Alexa and I wrote down our experiences.”

  “Thank you, and that might have worked best for you and Alexa, but I liked, like, having things explained personally.” Calli turned her gaze to Alexa. “Thank you for being here. It’s been a great help.”

  Alexa pinkened.

  At that moment the guy wearing pure white leathers stopped, held himself stiffly, shuddered, then drew a deep breath. His lips thinned as if in anger and disgust and Calli knew Alexa was right. The man didn’t like that he had this response to Exotiques. That he was less than perfect? Or that he saw himself less than a normal Lladranan?

  Faucon pulled ahead of the other two, a twinkle in his eye. At least he didn’t have a dumb-ass stupid dazed and infatuated look on his face. So he controlled his “innate attraction” to some extent, too. Interesting.

  Koz caught up with Faucon. Luthan drew near more slowly.

  When he and Koz neared the table, Faucon stepped in front of the other man, bowed and said the same thing he had the night before. “Prie introd moi?”

  Alexa shoved back her chair and stood. Calli figured breakfast was over and swallowed her last luscious bite of croissant. She’d have to make sure the Chevaliers’ Dining Room in Horseshoe Hall had the same quality. And that idea about stopped her heart. She was planning.

  For a life on Lladrana.

  A teeny plan, but it had risen to her mind naturally and that was a little scary.

  She put her utensils down carefully, then stood herself.

  “Callista Torcher, I’d like to present Faucon Creusse, an excellent volaran rider and Chevalier. A wealthy, noble landowner and all-around great guy,” Alexa said.

  Faucon took one of Calli’s limp hands and raised it to his lips. He brushed a kiss on the back and she felt a definite tingle and a couple of musical notes sounded in her head. Maybe things were looking up. He said something in a liquid, caressing tone. Since his eyes had heated, she thought it must be complimentary.

  “Hey, ladies,” Koz said in accented English, jostling Faucon down a couple of seats. The other man scowled at Koz’s use of English.

  Marian cleared her throat. Her aura was a little spiky. “Calli, my brother Koz Perrin, late of San Mateo, California. Koz, Calli Torcher of the Rocking Bar T Ranch, Colorado.”

  He grinned, showing white, even teeth, and held out his hand as if to shake. Calli grasped his and felt a tiny stirring, a little “plink” like one key struck on a piano. “When you get your ranch here, you’ll have to call it the Flying Bar T.”

  She laughed and shook his hand. She liked him.

  Marian rose. Koz hugged his sister, ruffled her hair. “So, what’s up?”

  “We’re going shopping in Castleton,” Alexa said. “Measuring Calli for several pair of leathers, some chain mail—it’s magically light—and buying whatever else strikes our fancy.”

  “Man, here or there, women are all the same.” Koz grimaced. When Faucon asked a question, Koz turned to him and translated. Faucon put a hand on his heart and inclined his torso, speaking.

  “Girls only!” Alexa said.

  Koz smiled again. “Too bad.” But when he relayed the information to Faucon, that man sighed and sat at the table.

  “Isn’t this the Marshalls’ Dining Room?” Calli asked, stepping into the aisle behind Alexa as she walked to the door.

  “Yes, but Luthan is the representative of the Singer and wealthy. And Koz was looking for his sister, who is a Circlet and in the company of a Marshall,” Alexa said.

  “So, I suppose I’ll also have a special dispensation to eat here, too.” Calli thought of the croissants.

  “For sure.” Alexa smiled ironically. “I can promise you that the Marshalls will want to grill you from time to time.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Marian said, “Both Faucon and Koz will be at your Choosing.”

  Calli swallowed, but she listened to the women’s stories of attraction/repulsion experiences and how Koz came to be Lladranan as they walked to the stables.

  Calli had insisted on checking on Thunder and giving him a treat of a juicy apple. When he nuzzled her and she stroked his neck, breathing in the amber scent of volaran, ran a finger down some wing feathers, once again she thought she could accept this place.

  “Shopping!” Marian called from outside the stables.

  “I want to fly with you,” Calli whispered to Thunder. “But I don’t like the tack. I’ll order something different in town.”

  He whickered. I am Volaran Valley born. I do not like the tack, either. Thank you. I love you.

  With one last rub of his nose, she stepped away, blinking. Stupid tears. Her throat was tight, too. She repeated the image he’d sent to her of a beating heart. I love you.

  Alexa kicked the dirt, sighed. “This mutual admiration society meeting done?”

  Turning, Calli forced a smile and found it came easier than she’d thought at the wariness she saw on Alexa’s face when she looked at Thunder. “Hey, I’m the Exotique Summoned for the volarans. I know and love them, and they adore me.” She said it, knowing it was true.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Alexa waved and took off at a brisk pace.

  “What do you have against volarans?” asked Calli.

  “I didn’t ride before I came.”

  “City girl.”

  “You got it. And since—” she scowled at the stables “—I’ve broken both my arms twice, I don’t care for flying. I. Fall. Off.”

  “Oh.”

  “I know you’re
laughing.”

  Calli cleared her throat. “Did it occur to you that you might have better luck with different tack?”

  Alexa slanted her a surprised look. “City girl. No.” But she appeared to be considering, and her expression lightened.

  Calli, Marian and Alexa walked from the stables through Horseshoe Close and the Chevaliers who were in the courtyard all stopped and stared at them, many bowing. Calli followed Alexa’s lead and nodded to them.

  The walk down to Castleton was pretty and she found the town just that, an odd little place that wasn’t quite a city, definitely nothing like Old West ghost towns she’d seen, or the old center of modern Western cities.

  “More like late Renaissance or early industrial age than medieval,” Marian said.

  “You should know. But I wasn’t thinking in medieval terms, either. I want to visit a blacksmith and tack and saddle maker first,” Calli said.

  “Okay,” said Alexa.

  “Why don’t you have blacksmiths and artisans up at the Castle?”

  “We do.” Alexa shook her head. “But the best live in the city. Don’t want to be under the Marshalls’ and Chevaliers’ thumbs, I suppose.”

  “And there’s the fact that until a couple of years ago the Marshalls and Chevaliers usually lived on their estates—before the fence posts began to fall and the situation became dire,” Marian said.

  Calli sucked in a deep breath. “You’d better tell me about these monsters.”

  “We’ll take you to the Nom de Nom,” Alexa said.

  “The what?”

  “The tavern where the Chevaliers hang out.”

  “Oh,” Calli said.

  “It has trophies…heads and other body parts,” said Marian.

  “Oh.” The hollow tone was back in her voice, along with a nice sick feeling in her stomach. “I’m going to have to fight these things, right?”

  “Right. But I think you’ll find you’re a natural,” Alexa said. “We’ll train you…and when you Choose and Bond with a Lladranan, you’ll become a fighting pair. A Sword for offense and a Shield for defense.” Alexa tapped her chest. “I’m a Sword, Bastien is my Shield. I fight with magic and magical weapons. He protects me magically. Here’s the saddle maker, right next to the smithy.”

  Neither of those places looked like anything Calli had ever seen, though the inside of the small shop smelled like fine leather and wood. She spent some time drawing what she considered the perfect saddle, hackamore and other tack for the craftswoman who kept darting fascinated glances at her. It took twice the time it should have since neither Alexa nor Marian knew the proper Lladranan words for such specific items.

  All of them watched the blacksmith for a time. Marian and Alexa seemed to like seeing how he worked with metal and magic. The heat sizzled around them.

  Squinting up at the sun, Calli wiped her sleeve across her forehead. She judged the time as late morning.

  “She needs a cowboy hat. A Stetson!” Alexa cried. “We all need cowboy hats! Oh, yeah, I can see us now. The Exotique Gang.” She did a little boogie and her boots kicked up dust. Then she lifted a foot. “And some of those excellent cowboy boots, worked in patterns and colors and stuff. We need to show these people our cultural heritage!”

  Calli and Marian laughed together, and it felt really good to laugh with other women.

  Marian gestured to her robe. “Can you see me in a cowboy hat and this?”

  “Well, it can’t be any worse than that hat Bastien designed, which is all the rage.”

  “And Jaquar wears the original all the time and looks like a dweeb. All too true.” Marian shook her head.

  “It’s time you get tailored leathers, Marian. A cowboy hat and boots would complete the ensemble.”

  Calli nudged Alexa with her elbow. “You ever had a cowboy hat, city-girl lawyer?”

  Alexa scowled. “No, but only because I could never find one to fit me.”

  She was awfully small. “You could have had one made to order.” Calli didn’t say she could have bought a girl’s size.

  “Yeah, like I had the dough.” Alexa snorted, then jingled money—zhiv—in her pockets and beamed. “But I do now. I’m not leaving this place until I order a cowboy hat!” She frowned. “You have any idea how they make them or the design dimensions or what, Calli?”

  “I’ve worn them all my life, had a few droop with rain, freeze with snow and generally get trampled under hooves. I think I can give the hatmaker a good idea of what we want.”

  “Good, off to the leathers tailor,” Alexa said.

  “Combat cuirtailleur,” Marian murmured. Catching Calli’s expression, she said, “The fighting-leathers tailor.” Her lips quirked. “Naturally Alexa patronizes only the best.”

  “Oh,” Calli said. She walked with them three abreast on sidewalks along a spacious street, until they reached a large shop with wide windows. There she got measured for several sets of leathers and her blood chilled as she thought of fighting. Marian stood by and translated for her.

  Calli pointed to a pile of “leather” squares on the counter. “What are these?”

  Alexa glanced at them, went over and inspected the stack, flipped through and shoved each square at Calli. “Soul-sucker,” a thick gray lizard-like skin. “Slayer,” yellow with long yellow fur and strange round bare spots. “Render,” thick, tough skin with a black pelt the consistency of steel wool. “Snipper,” something like Calli suspected rhinoceros hide to be. “Dreeth,” a fine, thin but incredibly strong skin of fine snakelike scales “Dreeth?” Alexa looked up at the old, wizened tailor. “Where did you get dreeth? And how much do you have of it?”

  He bowed deeply. “Your Shield, Bastien, brought it in. We have an understanding.”

  “Serves me right for not paying attention,” Alexa muttered.

  “I will have the Chevalier Exotique’s leathers ready by this evening.” He bowed again.

  “Please send them to me at the Castle,” Alexa said, “and put them on my account.”

  “I’ll pay you back!” Calli said when Marian translated.

  Alexa shrugged, smiled and replied in English. “A gift. Many people will be giving you gifts to get in your good graces. Expect something from the Citymasters and the Singer, too. Let’s head to the Nom de Nom for lunch.”

  “You’ll love it,” Marian said and Calli couldn’t tell whether that was being sarcastic or not.

  10

  They walked up to a shabby, narrow stone building with a sign that changed magically from black letters on a white background to white letters on a black background.

  This was the place that held monster trophies. Calli didn’t think she was ready, but it would be better getting used to dead monsters hanging on walls than live ones attacking.

  Alexa said, “Acclimatizing you, Calli. The Nom de Nom is one of the main hangouts for the Chevaliers, so you’ll probably be spending plenty of time here. The trophies are in the upper third of the room. You might want to look up after we’ve settled in a booth.” She hesitated. “This place isn’t as bad as the Assayer’s Office. If you need to, uh, get more of an idea what you’ll be facing, you can go there.” She opened the door to the scent of smoke and food and liquor. “And there’s a back room you should see.”

  The moment Calli walked in, conversation stopped. The place wasn’t packed, but the bar on her right was full, with Chevaliers leaning or sitting on stools. Of the five booths, two were taken. Alexa scowled at the couple in the last booth against the wall and they got up and moved to one closer to the door. A waitress hurried over to wipe the table.

  All the Chevaliers watched Calli with considering gazes. Well, they were getting an eyeful of the Exotique they might want to mate with. Calli wondered if she’d find more or fewer tokens on the Choosing table after this visit.

  A woman at the bar flinched, slipped from her seat and left.

  Feeling self-conscious and wanting to get this “trophy” ordeal over with, Calli glanced up. Time seemed to s
top and fear bubbled up her throat.

  The first thing she saw was the torso of a snarling beast with spines on its arms. She tried to swallow but couldn’t pull her gaze away from the fierce glass eyes, the open muzzle that showed sharp, deadly teeth. Its fur was yellow, as was the underside of its digited paws. Yellow skin, yellow fur. Slayer.

  Marian picked up one of Calli’s hands and curved her fingers around a mug handle. Her spit had dried, so she took a gulp, and cold, yeasty ale slid down her throat. She tore her gaze away to Marian who was gesturing for her to slide into the bench opposite Alexa, who faced the room. Calli decided that having people stare into the back of her head—her blond head—would feel better than meeting a stream of brown-eyed stares. She managed to pick one foot up after the other to get to the table and slide in on what seemed to be a red leather bench. Leather made from cows or something—not monster hide.

  “I ordered burgers for lunch,” Alexa said.

  Marian took the outside seat and Calli closed her eyes a moment in thanks that these two women were so protective.

  At least for now. They seemed to think that she’d go out and fight monsters like the slayer, or the larger beast next to it. This one snarled, too, its fangs as sharp as the slayers, its black furred head more massive. On either side of the head were huge paws with long, curved, sharply pointed claws that looked more like blades than anything else.

  “Render,” Alexa said, and removed a little woven basket of tea leaves from her mug, placing it on a saucer.

  Calli forced herself to savor the ale. It was perfect. Rich, mellow, just to her taste, already warming her stomach. She’d settled enough from shock to glance up at the next mounted trophy of a horror—another torso. Gray, lizard-like skin, bony head with no nose, two arms with two suckered tentacles in front and behind each arm, a soul-sucker.

  When she turned her gaze back to the table, she saw the other women watching her with understanding in their eyes. “Is that it?” she croaked.

  “There are dreeths,” Alexa said.

  “Of course, how could I forget dreeths? What are they?”