Echoes in the Dark (27 page)

There
were several snorts.

Raine
turned to Faucon and gave him a passionate kiss. As she watched them fly away,
she knew she’d made the right decision to stay. This was where her own work
should be done, by the sea.

And
she knew that this leaving showed faith in her. That she’d be fine on her own,
was a mature adult who could handle her own problems, be it a stalker to
raising the ship. And she understood that if she sent a mental call to any of
them, woman or man, they’d hurry to her side. Even now their link was open.

Friendship.

Independence.

The
mixture was heady.

She
walked back to the ponds.

The
Song between her and Faucon was strengthening, from attraction to affection to
tenderness. More than desire and passion. That, too, made her smile. She didn’t
think she’d ever had such an impact on a man. It made her feel all woman.

She
was alone. Corbeau was out with the fishing boats. She knew his Song now and
sensed it coming from the sea.

She
sensed a lot about the sea since yesterday.

There
was a small mew and she looked down to see an orange tabby kitten staring up at
her with big blue eyes and cream on her whiskers. Enerin.

“Hi,
Enerin.”

Enerin’s
eyes widened more. “Hello, Raine.”

Raine
sighed. “What do you want?”

A
wide kitten smile. “Last night we made many ships like your design.”

So
that was the feycoocu business! “So?”

Enerin
waved a paw and a little flotilla came sailing from behind a grassy knoll.
There must have been ten ships. Enerin said, “Sinafinal and Tuckerinal also
modified the ponds to look like the best maps.” She lifted her chin and beamed.
“Especially this big one that shows all of Lladrana and the way to the Dark’s
Nest.” The kitten bounded over to it. “It is perfect. So you can see how the
course must be.”

Raine
sent a hard stare at Enerin. “Do you want to make me afraid and sad?”

Enerin
looked surprised. “Ttho.”

“Then
why do you say things that you know will make me afraid and sad? You’re my
companion.”

Enerin
crouched down, lowered her head.
Sinafinal would say such to Alexa.

“You’re
not Sinafinal and I’m not Alexa. I don’t need to be reminded of my task, or
what awaits the invasion force in the north. I don’t need to be motivated by
fear and depression. I’ve had enough of that here on Lladrana.” She turned her
back on that pond, looked toward the east where the volarans had already flown
out of sight. “I don’t think Alexa or anyone else needs to be motivated that
way.”

Since
the kitten looked miserable, Raine picked her up, held her so their eyes met.
“Maybe in the beginning, when we all didn’t know what needed to be done,
Sinafinal or Tuckerinal might have been good at spurring the Exotiques on. But
now we need all the moral support we can get. You can tell Sinafinal and
Tuckerinal that, too.”

Enerin
squeezed her eyes shut.
They hear. All
Exotiques
hear.

“Good.
Now I know that feycoocus are special.” Raine cradled Enerin in one arm and
petted her. “We all know that you hear the Song of Amee, of the universe
itself, better than any human, that you might have other agendas that we don’t
know about and you don’t want to tell us. But if there’s a direction you want
us to go, I think we’d all appreciate it if you simply asked us to do
something, not manipulated us.”

Go,
Raine!
came Alexa’s mental voice.

You’re
absolutely right!
Marian said.

Thank
you,
echoed Calli and Bri.

Raine
sighed and Enerin looked up at her, whiskers rising from their droop. “I want
you to stay here, with me and with Faucon and with the others when the Snap
comes.”

“I
know that, but I’m not ready to make that decision.”

Enerin
continued, “And I know it will be better for everybody if you Captained the
Ship. It is like that man on Exotique Terre said, the Ship is a stealth ship
and will
be
a stealth ship if
you
pilot it.”

That
jolted Raine. She hadn’t thought of that. “Ayes?” she whispered, but she knew
all the others—the Exotiques and the feycoocus—were listening in.

There
had been less shock from the others, as if they’d anticipated this. Raine
wasn’t sure whether she was glad or not that they’d kept the idea from her.

“Ayes.”
The kitten nodded. “The sea and the oceans of Amee love you and will mask you
and the Ship. The Master of the Dark, he who sends the monsters, doesn’t know
you or sense your Song. You, too, are a weapon.”

Another
shock. Never in a million years would she have considered herself a weapon.

Soothing
came from the other Exotiques along their bond.

“And
the last Song, the Untying of the City Destroyer Knot Song, will be better if
you are there, adding the lilt of the oceans,” Enerin said.

“I
see.” Raine swallowed.

Enerin
tumbled off her arm and Raine reluctantly turned back to the continental map.
Blood hummed in her temples, merging with the sound of the ocean and the surf
endlessly rolling in and out. Then she heard a soft clicking and saw a duckling
near her feet…Enerin.

“Now
you know all,” Enerin said. “And we should practice raising little ships, then
Powering the Ships my parents and I raised through the waters.” She quacked,
wriggled her bottom. “We’ve simulated the ocean currents. They are correct,
too.”

“Oh,”
Raine said, staring at the various-sized models.

No
one else commented.

Singer’s Abbey

T
he lessons with
the Singer began in earnest the next morning. They worked on scales over four
octaves, then higher level spellsongs—Songs that provided energy for the Abbey
compound that entailed moving from building to building, finding the pentacle
that indicated the perfect place to Sing, and Singing to crystals storing
Power. This kept Jikata so busy that she had no breath to ask the questions
she’d lined up.

The
most important was
who or what were Exotiques?
She thought she had the
answer—a person like her who’d come from another world, probably Earth. As
she’d noted in her journal, her first vision had been of Caucasian women the
night she’d arrived. Since then she’d heard echoes of voices in her dreams,
seen more blurred images.

Her
lunch break was taken on the balcony in her rooms with the Singer. The old
woman had scanned the place and nodded. “A fine small suite, well kept.”

Jikata’s
housekeeper and maid curtsied and looked relieved.

Their
meal—skinless chicken breast and a soothing drink—was bland, as if the Singer
had lost her taste, or her elderly stomach preferred that. Jikata didn’t ask.
More important questions buzzed in her brain. She knew she’d only get one.

“Who
are the Exotiques?”

The
Singer looked down her nose. Put down her fork, dabbed her lips with her fine
linen napkin and rose. “I don’t have the time to answer all your questions.
Matters are pressing.
Amee
is pressing. It’s time for you to learn a
very specific technique. We must also visit the Caverns of Prophecy. You and
they must become accustomed to each other.”

Jikata
didn’t
rise. “Ayes, I’ve seen and spoken with Amee.”

The
Singer hesitated.

This
was
not
Club Lladrana, the image of the man on the flying horse nagged
at Jikata and she realized he’d worn a sword. There had been another weapon, a
long dagger strapped on his saddle. “I know I’ve been brought here to do—”
What?

“Fulfill
your task,” the Singer ended smoothly. She raised her hand and a Friend hurried
in, holding a stack of five books.

“Merci,”
the Singer
said, and inclined her head.

The
Friend flushed and smiled, dipped a curtsy. “Anything, Singer.”

The
Singer smiled. “I know.”

The
Friend left, glowing.

Jikata
eyed the books. They were all thick, and only one of them, the last, looked as
if the binding was of a leather she recognized. She got a jolt as she realized
she could read the gold lettering on the spines, another shock when she saw the
titles:
The Lorebook of Exotique Swordmarshall Alexa Fitzwalter; Lorebook of
Exotique Circlet Marian Harasta; Lorebook of Calli Torcher, Chevalier and
Volaran Exotique; Lorebook of Exotique Medica Brigid Elizabeth Drystan;
Lorebook of Exotique Medica Elizabeth Brigid Drystan.

Five.
She’d seen five women in her vision.

“Come
along,” the Singer said. “You can read those this evening after your training.”

She
swept from the room. After one yearning glance at the books, Jikata followed,
mind on the books and not appreciating the sunshine and soft breeze of the
afternoon until she was back in the Singer’s incense-laden suite.

That
night Jikata propped pillows high on her headboard, snuggled under a sheet and,
with one note, flashed a lightball into existence to hover near. Again she eyed
the books. The first was fat, the second thicker still, the third looked
thinnest. She set aside the top two. Chasonette swooped down and pecked her
hand.
Read me Alyeka’s first.

Scowling,
Jikata rubbed the back of her hand, “What?”

Read
Alyeka’s first. I was not here for that. I remember Bri and Elizabeth. I was in
Castleton then, but I want Alyeka’s and Marian’s and Calli’s first.

With
a grumble, Jikata took the first book, read the title, glanced at the bird. “It
says ‘The Lorebook of
Alexa
Fitzwalter.’”

Chasonette
swivelled her head to groom a wing feather and didn’t answer.

Jikata
opened the book and yelped as a three-dimensional image sprang up of the face
of a small Caucasian woman with a head of silver hair. The book tumbled off her
lap and the holograph disappeared. Chasonette gave a bird chuckle.

After
puffing out a breath, Jikata picked up the book again, opened it again, looked
at the image, and began: “‘My name is Alexa Fitzwalter, late of Denver,
Colorado, where I practiced law. One cold March night I trudged through crusty
snow on a hiking trail near Berthoud Pass….’”

Colorado!
Jikata smiled.

As
she read aloud, she couldn’t stop the heaviness of sleep. What with
Chasonette’s asides and Jikata’s own thinking—Alexa had heard chimes and gong
and chants just as Jikata had—she didn’t get far. A silver arch was coalescing
before Alexa when the book was too heavy and Jikata let it fall from her
fingers. Chasonette whistled the light out and began warbling her usual lullaby
and Jikata slept.

Nightmares
haunted her sleep.

20

Marshalls’
Castle

F
inally the first
day of trials had come, and Luthan was in the first group to be tested. He
looked out his apartment window at Temple Ward and smiled at the shimmering
waves of early afternoon heat rising from the flagstones. The first
hot
day of the year. Amee was rallying. The last Exotique had arrived and the
Lladranan Chevaliers and Marshalls would finally carry the war on the Dark to
its very Nest.

Every
day he’d had the feycoocus discreetly check on Jikata to confirm she was as
well as he sensed. He and she must have formed a bond during that short,
intense time in the Caverns of Prophecy. Enough of a connection that he could
sense her emotions. She’d been cheerful during the day, blossoming with Power.
And having nightmares. Like everyone else.

He
tightened the last buckle of his tunic at his waist, smoothed down the
reinforced flap of white dreeth leather that covered the fastenings, then ran
his hand down his chest, initiating a protective spell. No need for a cleaning
spell on dreeth leather, nothing stuck to it, but he Sang a whitening spell. He
was known for white leathers, and there were no white flying lizard-birds. He’d
kept an eye out for the palest dreeths on the battlefield and had helped kill
them, claiming a portion of their skins. The light buff skin was easier to
brighten into white than the pale gray.

And
he was delaying.

For
once he wanted to make a dramatic entrance—onto the volaran Landing Field where
the trials for being included in the invasion force would soon start.

Those
who were favored by the Chevaliers and Marshalls and who had proven their worth
were up first. He, as Bastien’s brother, the brother-in-law of the Exotique
Lady Knight Swordmarshall Alexa, was one of those. Luthan was the former
representative of the Chevaliers to the Marshalls, the putative representative
of the Singer to the Marshalls, the “most honorable man in Lladrana.”

He
thought he’d reclaimed that title. Last night he had dined with Calli and
Marrec, talked until he was hoarse about the events last year, explained
himself to them as he had no other in his lifetime. As he’d talked, he’d seen
Calli relax against Marrec, and eventually Marrec himself relaxed.