Protector of the Flight

by Robin D. Owens

  “You mean I’m holding on too tightly to him.”

  “Yes, and your daughter.”

  Calli had wondered about that, whether her need for Diaminta scared the little girl.

  “Loosen up the reins.” Marian tilted her head. “You love the volarans, but you aren’t binding them so closely to you and don’t accept very tight bonds from them. Maybe you can do the same with your family.”

  Calli’s smile was small and tight. “I’ve never had someone love me…or a child that could love me. I want it too badly.” In the shadows, she could say this.

  Marian sighed. “One of those ‘easy to say, hard to do’ things.”

  “Guess so.”

  Her smile rueful, Marian said, “Then I wonder about bringing up one of the subjects I came to talk to you about—bloodbonding with me and Alexa.”

  28

  Pulse skittering, Calli said, “Too much for me right now.” These women would know her failures intimately. She couldn’t bear that, she just couldn’t spread her focus now…all right, that was a rationalization…but would she tie the other Exotiques to her as strongly as she had Marrec? That would be wrong.

  Marian dropped to a small chair, watching her with silent sympathy. “You’ve read Alexa and my Lorebooks of Exotiques. You know it wasn’t easy for us, either.”

  Calli made a noncommittal noise. Even scrupulous Marian probably hadn’t included all her doubts and fears and failures. Who would? Though the visual “recording” of her time in the Dark nest embedded in the book was enough to give anyone the cold grue. “Don’t you think I’d make the same mistake with you?”

  Chuckling, Marian said, “Alexa and I are strong, I think we’d erect mind shields, if necessary. And I think we’d all benefit.”

  “I can’t,” Calli said.

  “Okay.” Marian smiled as she switched to English. “Not yet.” Her eyes turned wistful, “Though it would be good to have another female friend I could depend upon implicitly.”

  Calli jerked a nod. She’d like the women as sisters, too, but not…right…now. She had too many people to deal with on a personal basis as it was. Crossing to the small liquor cabinet, she opened a side of the split top. Despite the pressure, the four large bottles of alcohol were nearly full. Neither she nor Marrec were big drinkers. A little unusual in both the world of rodeo competition and the fighters of Lladrana. She shrugged off the little insight. Which reminded her of what they had in common. “White wine, right?”

  “You have it?” Marian sounded pleased.

  “Yes. White wine, the mead you like, the ale I like and the ale Marrec prefers.” Their squires had done well. She saw the gleam of metal and squinted, reached into the cavity and pulled out a purple tin chased with silver, opened it and smiled at Marian. “And tea.”

  Marian chuckled. “Alexa isn’t here, but I’m sure she appreciates the thought.”

  Raising her eyebrows, Calli said, “Why isn’t Alexa here? You don’t want to intimidate me by double-teaming?”

  “One of the reasons. Also, she’s just plumb tuckered out from today’s battle. One of the dreeths got too close.” Marian’s gaze slanted at Calli, back. “It couldn’t hurt if she was bonded to another Shield.”

  Calli’s hand trembled as she clinked bottle against wineglass. She finished pouring and stoppered the bottle, set it deliberately down and poured ale for herself. With equal care, she handed Marian the wine. “Not fair.”

  “No.” Marian sipped.

  “Every Shieldmarshall looks out for Alexa.”

  “It’s not the same. They can’t possibly anticipate her.”

  Calli laughed. “And you think I could?”

  Marian shrugged. “Better than they.”

  Sitting on a camp stool and stretching her legs, Calli said, “Topic closed.”

  “Okay.” Marian circled her finger around the rim of her glass. “Second issue. The Snap.”

  Calli choked, coughed. Marian put a hand on her back and hummed two notes and everything was fine. Nifty trick.

  “Jaquar and I have learned more about it from studying the very meager information we’ve gathered from everyone, including the Friends of the Singer’s Library.”

  “But not the Singer herself?”

  Marian frowned. “Not her, nor her personal library.”

  “Bet that’s like a burr under the saddle, and collecting all that info musta plumb tuckered you out, Prof.”

  Grinning, Marian lifted her glass. “I can’t help it, sometimes. I was born in Colorado, too, ya know, and something about you just brings out the ol’ western slang.”

  “Whatever meager western slang you ever knew.”

  Marian laughed. “Got me there.” She took another swallow of wine and when she looked up, her expression was serious. “But you can’t deter me from speaking about the Snap, either. Sorry to ruffle your delicate sensibilities.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Calli shifted, brought in and extended her legs again. “What’s it like?” she whispered.

  “Like those old-time cartoons where someone hooks a performer onstage and yanks them behind the curtain. You know, time’s up.”

  Calli exhaled slowly. “Oh-kay.” She put grit in her words. “But Alexa didn’t actually go into the dimensional corridor, and you went back.”

  “I had my brother, whom I love.”

  “And managed to get him and return. Good going.”

  A corner of Marian’s mouth kicked up. “Thanks. But it sure didn’t work out like I thought it would.”

  “Got that. But I study, too. You weren’t quite as bonded to people here as I am.”

  “No. But the Snap will come, Calli. Don’t think you can duck it. It’s Mother Earth’s call, the primal Song of your home planet.”

  “I won’t go back.”

  “No beloved relatives?”

  Calli shrugged. “I only have my father.” Her laugh was uglier than she’d intended.

  Marian frowned. “Careful, I think unresolved issues can haul your ass back, too.” She smiled with an edge. “I speak from experience.”

  Sighing, Calli said, “Lucky Alexa. No unresolved issues.”

  “Yes.”

  They shared a moment of silence. Both of them drank and this time Calli actually tasted the mellow ale. It was good, and the small warm path it took down her throat and into her belly was plenty nice, too. The small gaps in the tent flap showed white. The moon had risen and was painting the space outside her door silver. “So what’s the deal with the Snap?”

  “As we all know, we have previously had no idea when the Snap will occur.”

  Calli perked up. “You think you can predict when it happens? That would be big progress.”

  “We think we might have deduced one component.”

  “And that is?”

  “The Snap happens after you have completed your task.”

  Muscles tensed. “I thought the task was something the Marshalls gave Alexa.”

  “Apparently not. There has been a specific requirement that an Exotique must fulfill.”

  “Like Alexa finding the way to make new fence posts.”

  “And the Exotique before us teaching the Singer good English.”

  “Huh.”

  “We extrapolate that the task is set by—” Marian coughed “—the need of the planet Amee herself.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yes.”

  “And though there might be one major duty, Amee, shall we say, is not averse to getting as much as she can for the Power expended to bring us here.”

  As much bang for her buck as she could. “So something big is still waiting for me.” She’d felt it all along.

  “Yes.”

  The first night and day home kept Marrec too busy to think of anything but work around the estate, presenting him with problems he had to solve—or at least consider before he figured out the right thing to do. He told himself that Calli was surrounded by excellent guards and good friends in the Exotiques. Many more Powe
rful than he would protect her.

  But by the time evening had fallen on the second day, he’d caught up on all pressing matters and fallen into the slower rhythm of country life.

  Marrec sang Diaminta to sleep, then ate a light meal and went to his bedroom—the master suite. Empty of his Pairling. He hurt. Why had he done this to them? But it was the right thing to do. No matter how safe behind the lines the encampment was, it was no place for a child, let alone an infant.

  He stripped and showered, firmly closing the images of Calli and the hot spring in the conservatory from his mind. Though he preferred bathing, he didn’t see himself using the pool anytime soon. Not without her.

  His body yearned for hers. For sex. He’d gotten spoiled. As an independent Chevalier, sex had been irregular for him, with long periods of celibacy. He preferred to save his money than pay for sex, and other female Chevaliers only occasionally indicated that they’d care to spend a night with him. Now he wanted more. He wanted Calli.

  Restless, he dressed and wandered the large and echoing house. They still had only a few servants, though he wanted to hire more guards, especially for when he was away.

  Before he’d had time to settle, a knocking came on the front door of the house. Stretching his senses, he felt a surprising spurt of pleasure when he realized that Jaquar and Marian were visiting. He hurried to the door. “Salutations,” he said.

  Jaquar bowed and Marian curtsied, dazing Marrec’s wits a little. He still wasn’t used to Powerful people treating him with respect.

  They entered and Marian looked around with approval. “You’ve done wonders here.”

  Heat flushed under his skin. “Thank you.”

  “And on the estate as well,” Jaquar said. “I can sense when land is tended and nurtured, and the Songs of the people are cheerful.” They’d reached the one good parlor now and Marrec issued them in, poured brandy for himself and Jaquar and wine for Marian. He knew what drink they preferred and that pleased him. He, too, was making new and Powerful friends, finding the rich and noble weren’t so different after all. Though he sipped his brandy much slower than Jaquar. Marrec wasn’t used to strong, expensive drink either.

  Marian sat on a new love seat, her robes arranging themselves around her. “Yes, this estate is obviously prospering under your hands—and Calli’s.”

  Marrec stiffened. He should have remembered that they would be Calli’s friends more than his own. “We have a child, and a battle encampment is no place for her.” He swept his hand around them, irritated that he was defending himself. “And responsibilities to our home.”

  “I know what it is to protect a beloved one, while loving something else, too. It tears you apart.”

  He hadn’t wanted to think of that, had shut his emotions down with regard to himself and Calli.

  “Calli has responsibilities to all of Lladrana, to Amee itself. Don’t you think it hurt her for you to choose your child and your land over helping your Pairling? She has a problem believing that people can love her.”

  Marrec had never thought of that. His gut burned. So did his eyes. “I’m not going to talk to you about Calli. But you are welcome to spend the night.”

  “Ahem.” Jaquar cleared his throat. “We didn’t come to discuss responsibilities. You and Calli gave us several dreeth teeth and claws to commission into magical objects that would sell for a high price. We have deducted our price and now return the rest for you to trade.” He waved a hand and a bulging saddlebag appeared on a table. “I suggest you take them to Troque City near the escarpment to the City States.” He drank, then finished. “I mentioned them to a colleague of mine and the merchants there are expecting them.” He glanced at the bag. “The objects should command a very high price. Enough for you to hire a short-term caretaker and nanny.”

  So much for not lecturing about responsibilities. “A child needs a parent. Diaminta is accustomed to having Calli and me near, seeing us each day, which would not be the case were I to stay at the camp. We are on four-day rotation.”

  “A wife needs her husband,” Marian said gently.

  That ripped at his heart. At least they didn’t point out that without Calli, he’d never have had an estate.

  “Wrong,” Jaquar said.

  Marrec blinked.

  Marian rose and put her glass back on the liquor cabinet. “We are linked with Calli in some measure because we participated in the Summoning and the Healing, and that means we hear your Song better than most.”

  “You are a very determined man,” Jaquar said. “You would have earned land of your own.”

  But not an estate like this, and Marrec loved this place fiercely, as fiercely as his daughter.

  As fiercely as he loved his wife. But his daughter and the land needed him more.

  Both Circlets’ gazes were fixed on his face. He thought his expression was as impassive as always, but they could hear his Song.

  Finally, Jaquar said, “Since you wish to spare your daughter the knowledge of the absence of her parents as much as possible, I suggest we travel to Troque tonight—a merchant will be available to bargain for our wares. We can return at dawn, before she awakes.”

  It was sensible.

  “I’ll watch Diaminta,” Marian said, her face lighting in the way of women thinking of babes. “After all, you and Calli intend to ask us to be godparents, um, parenties for her, don’t you?”

  “Ayes. I didn’t know that Calli had told you.”

  Marian’s smile was warm. “She mentioned it in passing, though it’s only logical. We’re the least likely of all your friends to be harmed in this battle with the Dark.” Her expression turned serious and she reached for Jaquar’s hand. “We assure you that…that…”

  Jaquar said, “Should Diaminta come to us, we will always put her welfare before anything else.”

  Cold touched the base of Marrec’s spine. “Thank you.”

  Marian smiled. “Now, you two go take care of your business.”

  29

  A couple of hours later, a dazed Marrec stood in the Troque Guildhall’s Landing Area, Dark Lance’s reins in his hand. The master merchant himself had negotiated with them, and they’d gotten a staggering price for their items. Marrec was stunned at the amount he received for magical amulets, had to dismiss himself behind a screen so he could place the rare jewels in a money belt wrapped close to his body. They wouldn’t go in pouch or pockets. His wits hadn’t quite grasped the wealth he now had or exactly what he could do with it.

  Jaquar leaned on the open gate of the paddock. His volaran was the only steed within. “I have a colleague here. I’m sure you’d be welcome to stay overnight.”

  The last thing Marrec wanted to do was to spend time in a Sorcerer’s home and be bored by talk of various obscure spellsongs that had little use to a Chevalier.

  “Thank you,” he said, “but, no. I’ve traded in this town before, I know the Chevalier places.”

  “Very well. My colleague’s tower is some ways outside of town. I’ll meet you at your estate tomorrow morning.”

  “Good.” Marrec hesitated, then offered his hand. He’d enjoyed Jaquar’s company, the way they’d worked well together to bring the price of their goods up. The evening had been the most pleasurable he’d had with another man in a long time.

  Grasping his hand, Jaquar gave it a firm squeeze. “I enjoyed our bargaining.”

  “Me, too.”

  Jaquar adjusted his dreeth-skin hat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yes.” Marrec eyed the hat. He’d like one, too.

  Jaquar opened his mouth, then shut it, shook his head. “Women are a puzzle, even for Sorcerers. I’ll not give you any advice.”

  Marrec was thankful for that. He nodded and walked away, leading Dark Lance. The inn he usually patronized was shabbier than he remembered, but still close to the more expensive tavern and inn that most Chevaliers frequented when they were in town. At least he knew the prices and services here, so he got a room to himself and s
tabling for Dark Lance.

  But once he was in his room, he was restless again. He definitely was unaccustomed to being alone now that he’d wed, and being solitary was different than being lonely. So he clumped down the stairs and headed toward the tavern.

  This place, too, wasn’t quite as he recalled, but narrowing his eyes, Marrec figured the change was in him more than the inn. Raucous laughter came from a table, one voice lifted, demanding more ale. Marrec recognized the voice and saw three Chevaliers, all men, sitting and drinking, with a deck of cards on the table. They were all independents, as he’d been, and he hadn’t spoken with any of them for a while. He wended his way to the table.

  “Ay, Marrec!” Zhardon, an affable moon-faced Chevalier, stood and pounded Marrec on the back, grinning. “Long time since we’ve had a drink together.” He nudged Marrec in the ribs with his elbow and winked. “Got a whole lot better to be doing than hanging with us, eh? Beautiful new wife, rich new estate.”

  “A kid, even,” Luc said, finishing his drink and wiping his sleeve across his mouth. He smiled. He’d lost a tooth since Marrec had sat with them last. But Marrec had seen the flash of bitterness in his eyes.

  “Guess you’re here for the same reason we are. To get a better price for our portion of horror kills?” Gentry asked smoothly. He was better educated than them all, but his Song held resentment, too.

  Marrec wasn’t about to tell them that he’d traded with the master merchant himself, that he’d received a fortune for his kills—his and Calli’s. Odd how fortunes begat when you had a big stake. He dropped into the open chair.

  “Barkeep, an ale for my friend, here, and another round for us,” Zhardon ordered, grinned at Marrec and winked again. “You can pay for it.”

  “Looks like he can,” Gentry said. “Nice leathers.”

  The others checked out what Marrec was wearing. It was one of his dreeth-skin leather sets and didn’t show wear, and he had two sets now, and two of regular cowhide. When he’d once only had one very mended set, the same as these men.

  Zhardon leaned closer, his breath warm and smelling of ale. “So, tell us of the beautiful new Volaran Exotique.”