Echoes in the Dark (45 page)

I
do not have the Distance Magic of the volarans.

Jikata
caught the excitement from the others. “Are we going to meet the other
Exotiques at the Marshalls’ Castle?” She wasn’t sure she was prepared, and
Luthan had agreed that it would be her decision, but she trusted him. If there
was something she should see—hear—then it was right.

He
ran a hand down Lightning’s neck. “Ayes and ttho.”

No
answer at all.

“There’s
a…ritual…I think you’d like to see.”

“Will
I be expected to take part?”

“Not
unless you want to.”

Ah,
he thought she’d want to. Too many questions and she felt his impatience to
go,
not linger and dodge more queries.

“Fine.”
She looked around camp. It showed little signs of having been occupied. Good.
Crossing over to Luthan, she kissed him again, let him help her mount, settled
her seat on Hope and stroked a finger on Chasonette’s head.

The
bird looked at her.
We will watch history.
She flicked her comb.

Luthan
kicked the dead embers of the fire apart. He walked to her, set a hand on her
knee and looked up. “Do you recall our lessons in Distance Magic?”

They
hadn’t ever gone far, a mile or two. “Ayes.”

“Good.”
He squeezed her knee, then surprised her by kissing it. “Beautiful Jikata.”
Another smile. “There is no part of you that isn’t lovely.”

She
chuckled. “You should know.”

He
swung into his saddle, sent her a glance under lowered lashes. “And I’ll know
more, again and again.” Then he stared at the open sky, the space around them.
“You’re a quick study, Distance Magic will come easily to you. We’ll be some
time in the saddle.”

Her
eyes had become accustomed to the night so she could stare at him, handsome in
his white leathers. Not his usual travel leathers, they appeared to be a newer
set. Ayes, this was important. He looked much like the formidable man of her
first impression.

“I’m
ready.” She stroked Hope’s neck. A real road trip. “We can stop for a very few
minutes now and then for a break.”

He
grimaced, then called, “Feycoocu.”

A
hawk spiraled down from the air, perched on a nearby branch. Chasonette chirped
a greeting. Jikata thought it was the female one, Sinafinal.

Salutations,
Jikata and Luthan and Chasonette and Hope and Lightning and Socks.

Luthan
mindspoke,
How are the preparations going?

Sinafinal
lifted her wings.
Everyone is still gathering and the schedule is lagging.
If you leave now you may arrive just before the ritual begins.

Luthan
frowned.
I believe it would be best to arrive after the circle has formed
and the event has started, less distraction for the others that way.

Less
questions,
Sinafinal agreed.
Shrewd thinking.

Thank
you.

Do
you want to tell me what’s going on?
Jikata asked.

With
a ripple of amused notes, Sinafinal shook her head.
You will see. And hear.
She launched herself from the branch, rose quickly into the sky out of sight.

Luthan
picked up his reins and Jikata followed.

“Let’s
fly!
” he said and Lightning took off. Jikata followed and understood
something else, the slow pace she’d set for them had chafed at Luthan, yet he’d
said nothing.

And
real flying on a volaran was wonderful.

Addictive.

Creusse Landing

R
aine was dozing
as the sun brightened the windows, warming the room. It was full morning when a
quick strum of doorharp strings sounded and the outer door of the suite opened.

Marian
entered the bedroom, unheeding of Raine’s yelp as she pulled the covers up.
Faucon just grinned.

Then
the Circlet Sorceress unfolded what she’d brought and held it up, and Raine
forgot about everything else.

It
was a gown of shimmering emerald and sapphire, like it had been lifted from the
ocean itself. Around the hem of the dress and the sleeves were embroidered
golden stylized waves. And in the satinlike fabric itself shone other silver
symbols that Raine couldn’t quite see.

But
she could feel them.

This
was a gown of the utmost magic.

Marian
smiled. “You like it, then.”

“It
is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Nodding,
Marian said, “All the Exotiques bespelled it, as did the feycoocus and even the
roc. A Circlet wove the fabric and made the dress.” Marian chuckled. “One of
the water persuasion.” She held it out, admired it. “I couldn’t make a dress
like this for you in a million years.”

Raine
jumped out of bed, uncaring of her nudity, of Faucon’s indulgent and admiring
gaze. “Oh, thank you.” Tears prickled behind her eyes.

“A
magic gown for a magic day,” Marian said lightly. “I see that you had a good
night and a good sleep, too.”

“Yeah.”
Raine was stroking the dress, but saw Faucon’s eyes roll at her understatement.
So she sent a grin to him. “Excellent sex and excellent sleep.” He subsided
back onto his pillows with a satisfied grin.

“An
excellent breakfast awaits you both,” Marian said.

“Should
I dress in this?” Raine loved the dress but it wouldn’t be better with egg.

“Absolutely,”
Marian said.

“Ayes,”
Faucon said.

Marian
aimed a stern gaze at Faucon. “After he’s gone. I know all about men and
magical gowns.”

She
would.

Raine
said, “I’ll go shower then.” Reluctantly placing her dress on the end of the
bed, she left.

She
was reviewing the ritual, the Song and the steps for raising the ship in her
head when Faucon joined her in the shower.

They
made love, but Raine felt a slight tension in him that hadn’t been there
before, and a little withdrawal. This was the day she would finish her task for
Lladrana and Amee.

After
that the Snap could come at any time.

So
she made lusty and tender love with him.

In Flight

J
ikata and Luthan
flew over green land, rolling hills, and angled over the ocean and Circlets’
islands that belonged to the Sorcerers and Sorceresses. Since they didn’t land,
she guessed they weren’t visiting any of the chief magic workers and wasn’t
sure how that made her feel. She was used to having more Power than those
around her.

Or
thinking she had more Power. She sensed Luthan had a great deal of his own that
he hadn’t revealed, and the other Exotiques, of course, would have as much as
she, wouldn’t they?

But
they wouldn’t have
her
skills.

As
she wouldn’t have theirs, and that felt right.

Creusse Landing

I
t was a half
hour before noon and the tide was ebbing, would be at the low mark at midday
when the ship should be raised. Though it couldn’t be seen, the moon was full.

Raine
went to the middle of the pentacle drawn in the sand, faced west toward the sea
where the materials had been laid out for the ship on the beach and in the
shallow water and on the sandbars.

Everyone
took their place, bonded pairs alternating with each other on the beach. It was
a large circle and inner joy welled through Raine as she looked at them. All
the Marshalls and Chevaliers, of course. Townmasters like Sevair Masif, Bri’s
husband, and others who’d been curious enough to respond to the invitation.
Circlets and Scholars of the Tower community matched the numbers of the
warriors, led by the greatest of them all, Marian’s mentor Bossgond. All the
Seamasters and many seafolk, Raine’s own community. Even an acceptable number
of Friends, those who lived in local villages, some from a small nearby abbey,
and those who’d arrived from the Singer the night before.

Most
wore colorful, formal robes, though none as gorgeous as her own, and the people
themselves were beautiful.

All
the segments of Lladranan society had come to support
her
and this task
of hers. For the first time in ages they would all be working in concert.

More
than pride washed through her as she took her place in the center of the
circle, Power rose.

Only
a few had no mark of Power at their temples. This could also be the most
Powerful circle ever and that made Raine’s breath catch.
What was she doing?

She
set her shoulders. She was building—raising—a ship. Something she’d been born
to do, something she’d been doing, with a twist, since she’d been old enough to
be taken to the shipyard and sand the boats her family built. She could do
this.

Bastien
Sang the blessing, and with his wild black-and-white magic, he invoked a
no-tell spell on everyone, sent it rippling around the circle. Raine saw some
disconcertment and an angry look or two, but the spell was effective. No one
could talk about this except to others who had participated.

She
was the center of a vortex of Power like she’d never known before and would
never feel again. This was
her
moment. The fulfillment of her being, her
fate.

Power
sizzled around her, time to harness it and raise the ship. So she winked at
Faucon, opened her mouth and Sang the first note of the ritual. Everyone joined
in. Then she continued with the simple verse, gathering the Power, steadying
it, melding it for her use. Harmonious voices rose around her.

When
Power peaked, filled her, swirled around her in a sparkling, golden cloud,
enough to raise the ship, she started the first chorus with the ebb and flow
rhythm of the sea. She Sang it slowly, visualizing the outline of the hull,
began building from the bottom up.

Time
passed and planks curved and snapped together with woody groans, bound by
pressure and Power into a watertight whole. She rearranged the great Power
stones a trifle, lifting them as if they were marbles, though her dress now
gave off the sweet scent of herbs brought by her sweat. She built the hold,
storage and cabins, and now the ship was high, throwing shadows from the sun
reaching its zenith. Decks came next and she had to use Power to propel her
breath, keep her voice even, but Power came as those around her marveled at the
ship, Sang louder, wove the melodies for her.

F
inally, near
noon, Jikata and Luthan flew across a bay to a peninsula and dropped the
Distance Magic spell. Immediately, Jikata
heard
a Powerful, fabulous
Song as if Sung by several choruses in perfect harmony.

She
could only wonder what kind of great spell they were doing, could hardly wait
to see, to listen close up. Soon the volarans reached the shore with a large
manor house set back from the ocean and a wide beach.

Gathered
on the sand was a huge circle of people, all linked and Singing. All wearing
bright clothing indicating different groups. There were those with leathers
like Luthan’s—though not white. Others wore rich robes, some long, or for those
actually standing in water, they were belted up above legs, like people Jikata
had seen in the towns, urbanites, then, and nobles.

Headbands
glinted from several with marks of great Power—Circlets, the Sorcerers and
Sorceresses.

Chasonette
had been right, this was some historic event, pulling in all portions of
Lladranan society. Who else?

Ah,
Marshalls. Marshalls came in pairs, and as the volarans began to land, Jikata
saw couples in colors—ruby red, sapphire, emerald…each had a sword on one hip
and a tube on the other, for their batons. Armor was under the matched tunics.

There
were people dressed roughly and wearing some sort of scaly ponchos.

Luthan
landed near a couple who wore Friends’ robes. So even the Singer was
represented here, though Jikata only vaguely recognized them.

Narrowing
her eyes, she saw they all surrounded what looked like a bunch of planks set in
a regular pattern of a…boat?

Then,
as Jikata watched in amazement, the boat came together as if a giant were
building it, snapping it together like it was some sort of great model.

She
turned her attention to the woman Singing the lead, the focus of them all, a
Caucasian brunette Singing her heart out, totally concentrating on the boat.
She
was the one pulling the planks together, Jikata realized with wonder. It was
her vision and her skill and her Power that was actually building the Ship,
others were supporting her, funneling her Power, but she was the creator.

R
aine heard each
lilting Exotique voice arrowing to her with Power they’d had on Earth but was
magnified a thousandfold on Lladrana. They joined with her in the giddy delight
of
building,
seeing a design of her own form before her eyes. No
double-hulled aluminum racing yacht this, but a warship.