Echoes in the Dark (32 page)

None
of them were Raine.

She
snapped the book shut. She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what life on
Earth or here would hold.

Enerin
trotted in with a small bag of toys, the strap in her mouth.
I am ready to
leave.

“How
did you know we were leaving?”

You
are the Seamistress. Your place is at the coast.

True
enough—Earth or Lladrana, her home, when she found it, would be on the coast.

Enerin
sniffed.
You are not packed yet.

Raine
narrowed her eyes. “That sounded like a cat sniff to me, a cat comment. You are
a puppy, loyal and true, happy to be with me.”

Plopping
down on her butt, Enerin let the strap fall from her mouth and lolled her
tongue, made big eyes.
I love you.

“Oh.”
Tears burned behind Raine’s eyes. She forced them back. “I love you, too.”
Raine hauled out a duffel, folded clothes into it from the wardrobe and dresser
drawers. Squeezed in the books, a few knickknacks the Exotiques and their men
had given her. She’d been given everything…or had worked for it. She didn’t
recall actually buying anything.

She
put her hat on her head and felt weird, as if she really were part of the
Exotique gang and would be staying, but where else would you carry a hat?

Blossom
neighed outside and a few seconds later the Castle klaxon rang. Raine tensed,
listening to the pattern she’d learned to distinguish. The horrors had been
killed, a new fence post raised, no Lladranan casualties. Her knees felt weak
and tension drained.

The
Chevaliers and Faucon will be back soon,
Enerin said.
You should move your
things to Faucon’s rooms so we can all talk about the gong.

Raine
wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about the gong.

Enerin
nosed under her pantleg and slurped on her ankle.
You did very well. You
discovered what no Lladranan, no other Exotique had. You know what the Dark
wants.

She
did. The Dark wanted death.

Still,
Raine shouldered her duffel, and left the house, saying a silent farewell to
it. Once again she’d changed and outgrown a place. Her time here was done.

There
was a man sitting in the park. His manner and dress seemed rougher than what
was usual in this part of town. When she passed him and nodded a greeting a
look of pure revulsion twisted his features so he resembled the guy who’d
stalked and attacked her.

Her
step froze, then she moved on, though a chill slid along her spine. She just
wasn’t used to this reaction. The house on the square had been chosen for Bri,
the Exotique Medica, because none of the locals had the revulsion reaction.

The
incident added to the rest of her unease and she called Blossom, then hurried
to the end of the street.

Her
mind went back to her tasks. She may have accomplished one, but she had two
more to go—integrating the Seamasters back into Lladranan life and raising a
ship—before she went home.

Wherever
that would be.

23

Singer’s Abbey

J
ikata was
awakened from an after-dinner doze by a feeling of tugging strings inside her
and a ringing in her ears that made her think she’d heard something in her
sleep. She listened but no unusual sound came. There was sibilant whispering
outside her door and a sense of activity in the Abbey compound.

With
a little four-note hum, she swept the muzziness from her mind and rolled her
shoulders as she rose from the chair she’d fallen asleep in. Marian’s Lorebook
was on the side table.

Stretching,
Jikata walked to the outside door of her rooms where someone hovered, and
opened it to her maid. The young woman’s face cleared.

“What
is it?” Jikata asked.

“The
Abbey bell echoed the Marshalls’ Castle alarm.”

That
took a few seconds to sink in and when it did, Jikata tensed. “The Marshalls
and Chevaliers are flying to battle?”

“Ayes,”
her maid said and stepped forward to enter the rooms. “We’ve been told there
have been small incursions of the horrors, but nothing triggered our alarm.”
She hurried to a cabinet in Jikata’s sitting room, opened the top narrow map
drawer, lifted out a built-in frame, pulled out the second drawer and snapped
the whole in place. A piece of tapestry taut on the wood turned from blank
linen to a Lladranan map, then became animated.

Jikata
stared. Looked at the maid. “Is this a map like that one in the Marshalls’
Castle?”

Her
maid nodded. “But this is much smaller.” She stood straight. “The Singer’s
Abbey has everything the Marshalls’ Castle has—” she paused “—except the gong.
But we have the Caverns of Prophecy. That’s why the Abbey was built here. And
because it’s in the south, well away from the invading horrors.”

Jikata
nodded, drawing close to see the map. Little shields were moving from the
Marshalls’ Castle northwest to the coast.

The
maid sucked in a breath. “I thought we’d replaced those fence posts. It’s not
good that we’re fighting in the northwest.” She frowned. “It must have been the
very last one, don’t you think? I heard the land was weak there, it might have
crumbled into the sea.” When Jikata stared at her she flushed, knotted her
hands in her apron, glanced around. “I thought you should
watch.
” She
lifted her chin. “You are an Exotique, too. You should see what the others are
doing.” With a roughened finger the maid pointed to blue-green shields. “That’s
Alyeka and Bastien.” The maid frowned. “I don’t see Calli and Marrec, so they
remain at the Castle with their children. Marian isn’t going, either, though
she does occasionally, probably not a big enough challenge for her. Bri is a
medica and only went to battle once so she could train other medicas. Last I
heard, Raine was on the coast.”

Jikata
grabbed onto the topic, the first time someone had mentioned the other Earth
women. “What of Elizabeth?”

The
maid’s eyes widened and she put a hand over her mouth, as if realizing she’d
been indiscreet.

Jikata
gestured to the books. “I’m reading them all, so you can tell me of Elizabeth.”

“She
returned with the Snap,” the maid said in a hushed voice.

“Alexa
and Marian have written of the Snap.” Jikata tapped the map, the largest
island. “This is where Marian’s tower is.” She didn’t know for sure, but knew
it was Bossgond’s island and that there was a spot on that island that
attracted Marian, so it was a good guess. “More about Elizabeth, please.”

“She
was—is—Bri’s twin and went back to Exotique Terre. I didn’t know that she’d
written a Lorebook.” Suspicion was in the maid’s gaze.

“The
Singer gave me all the books,” Jikata reminded her.

“Ayes.”
But the maid retreated to the door. “Watch the battle in the north. You should
see that.” She opened the door and snicked it shut behind her.

Jikata
stared down at the little animated map. There were a lot of shields moving
around the northwest edge of the country. Some pairs were long and pointy, and
different colors with tiny bars on them, like wands. The blue-green shield with
the green bar was Alexa’s, the black-and-white one, Bastien’s. Definitely
Marshalls. The shorter, squatter shields would be Chevaliers then. There were a
lot of orange-and-red ones milling around.

Then
there was a flare of bright light that dimmed down to a steady blue, sent a ray
of blue light to the east, and Jikata’s eyes widened. She’d just seen a fence
post made! The blue line with blue dots must be the magical border that kept
the horrors out. It ranged all the way across Lladrana with a tiny gap here or
there, and a ragged opening in the east. If Alexa and the Marshalls had
replaced the entire fence over the last couple of years, it was an impressive
feat. And a lot of battles.

A
sweet bonging of the bell tower came…and the sound almost made sense. On the
map the shields were winging south. To the Marshalls’ Castle, where the action
was. Never as far south as the cloistered Abbey.

Marshalls’ Castle

R
aine and Enerin
and Blossom flew back to the Castle. To Raine’s surprise one of Faucon’s
squires met her at the Landing Field and cooed at Blossom, leading the volaran
to the stables. The squire looked at Raine’s cowboy hat, winked, then took her
duffel. “You’ll want to be going to the Temple.”

Not
really, but she did, anyway.

There
were people in the Temple, Chevaliers and Marshalls who had not been on the
fighting rotation, soldiers of the Castle, even the odd little guy who ran the
Assayer’s office. The doors of the place were not quite shut, letting in the
night air to mix with incense someone had lit. Low talk filled the Temple.
People had filed up to inspect the gong but none of them touched it. What had
been a common object taken for granted had suddenly become dangerously lethal.

Marian
and Jaquar were still near the gong, and Raine couldn’t tell whether they’d
remained the whole time. They
were
affably answering questions.

Then
Alexa’s bootsteps rang on the stone, no mistaking that sound. Raine turned and
the doors opened for her. She was followed by Bastien and Faucon.

Faucon’s
face was ruddy from the cool flight, but his grin was wide, his eyes a trifle
wild. Raine ran to him and didn’t stop when she scented monster gore. He
grabbed her, whirled her around, and she figured that would be their new
standard greeting. His body was warm under cold armor, his breath puffed
against her ear. “The new fence post is
mine!
I was the one who killed
the horror and planted the post!”

“A
great honor,” she said.

“Ayes.”
He kissed her. “My luck has been in lately. I now have four posts in the
border.”

He
didn’t look like he had a scratch on him. Some dirt and sweat and a bit of
sea-scent, but no blood. Her last, lingering fear for him vanished. She kissed
him back, dimly hearing Alexa’s yell for attention.

Faucon
slid her down his body and she felt his burgeoning arousal. With easy strength
he set her on her feet beside him.

“Listen,
all! We will discuss the gong. Those of you who want to stay are welcome,
though I recommend only those who have made the invasion force remain. Bastien
will be invoking a no-tell spell.”

Bastien
swept the space with a penetrating gaze, and most people were moving out the
doors. “The spell will last until your death and will only be able to be
removed by me or a Circlet.”

No
chance at all for gossip, then.

“From
now on, a no-tell spell will always be a requisite at our conferences.” He took
Alexa’s hand. “We Marshalls have been more open than ever before about our
plans, but that ends now.”

Alexa
frowned but said nothing and Bastien continued, “The stakes are too high. All
our lives, our land, our world.”

The
tenor of his voice, backed by his strange black-and-white magic, rippled
through all of them in a spell. Then he smiled. “Feel free to speculate ten
different ways when you talk and spread rumor.”

Even
more left, some nodding, some raising a hand in farewell. A few people settled
on the colorful fat pillows gracing the built-in stone seats: the Captain of
the Castle Guard, a couple of Townmasters, but as was happening most often,
only the core group remained.

Everyone
who was anyone was there, clumped around the gong. All the Exotiques and their
men, Luthan, and Koz, Marian’s brother, along with some nobles—Marshalls and
Chevaliers—and Citymasters. And Bossgond, the greatest sorcerer of their age.

When
the doors were closed, Bastien raised his voice in the no-tell spell, and they
all joined in. The Power of that songspell was such that no one in the room
could communicate in any way about what occurred with anyone who was not there.

Alexa
stalked around the nine-foot gong, mouth a thin line, jade baton out. “Could
something so small hold such a Powerful thing as the Dark?” she asked, doubt in
her voice.

“Look
at you,” Bastien, said. “You’re small and Powerful.”

“I
don’t eat planets,” Alexa pointed out.

“Mass
doesn’t always equate with Power,” Marian said.

Alexa’s
face scrunched. “A ship.”

“An
interdimensional ship that surfs the winds in the corridor,” Marian said on a
shaky, horrified breath. Raine had never seen her so pale. “Or a compass or a
key. We still don’t know, but it must be valuable to the Dark if it’s tried to
retrieve it from Lladrana for centuries.”

“I
think it made a mistake,” Luthan said quietly.

They
all turned to him. Bastien said, “Tell us.”

Luthan
said, “It plans to leave. One of the futures—a less likely one—is it leaving as
it came, strong and looking for a tasty planet. With or without creatures
living on it.”

“The
mistake?” Alexa asked.

“Amee
is richer than most in Power, but she wasn’t quite as weak as the Dark
believed, has fought more. Her atmosphere is colder, less hospitable to it.”