Echoes in the Dark (47 page)

“Thanks,”
Raine said. She stood a moment where she was, her bare toes digging into the
sand. Centering herself? Grounding? There was a distance to her gaze as if she
still felt the effects of the ritual. Not surprising.

“And
I’m Calli Torcher Gardpont.” A blond woman inserted herself firmly between
Jikata and Bri. Another new Song that immediately became precious, adding to
all the things Jikata had sensed about the volarans, more nuances to Songs of
herd and flight.

Marian,
the Sorceress, shook her gold-banded head. “Two waters and two fires, with only
one earth and air. I don’t know how this will work, or why—”

“Raine
was needed to build, raise, the Ship,” Alexa pointed out. “And there’s only one
Jikata,” Alexa said. “Only one strong four-octave voice.”

“The
weapon knot demands a four-octave voice,” Jikata said, she hoped calmly. She
had extrapolated that from the Singer’s range and what Luthan had told her. She
was sure she could Sing at a great ritual such as the one she’d just witnessed,
but untying the weapon knot called “City Destroyer” in the heart of the Dark’s
Nest—a volcano?—was a whole different matter.

“Ayes.”
Marian sent her a penetrating glance. “Haven’t you read the Lorebooks I sent?”

Jikata
returned her stare with a cool one of her own. “I just came off a long tour,
have spent weeks with the Singer learning Power, and,” she added pointedly,
“your Lorebook isn’t exactly a tiny volume.”

Alexa
snorted.

Before
Marian could answer, Raine stretched out her hands, curiosity in her eyes.

“Jikata,
the new Exotique, the Singer,” Raine said softly.

“Ayes.”
Jikata nodded, then shook Raine’s hand in disbelief as she followed the woman’s
stare to the Ship. “Fabulous job.”

Raine
glowed.

Jikata
took her hand and got another kick…definitely a water element, whirlpools of
the deep sea at the bottom of the ocean where there never was any light.

But
there
was.
There was fire in the depths if she listened. The heated
opening of a vent to the core of the planet.

Raine
gasped. “Darkness and light. Cold and heat.”

Bri
sent a surge of head-clearing energy, healing energy, around their closed
circle and Jikata caught another mixture of darkness and light. The darkness of
infinite space and the bright pinpoints of stars.

“We’re
together, finally,” Marian said.

“We’re
where we are fated to be.” The words came from Jikata without volition.

It
was true. A future of darkness and light awaited them, this time evil and good.
Would the Dark swallow them? Or the light bless them?

34

T
he rest of the day
was spent watching teams of Circlets move
The Echo
from its precarious
raising point out to the open sea of the bay through Power. Lucienne Deauville
also allowed that the Ship needed to “settle into itself.”

Alexa
had called a conference, limited to the Exotiques and their men, a few minutes
before the celebration. It was Jikata’s first conference and she sat back and
observed.

“How
much do you think the Dark knows about the ship?” Raine asked.

Bastien
shrugged. “We’ve spread rumors, the Circlets have set a befuddling spell on the
manor and its grounds, kept most of the crucial information to ourselves. Even
done some meetings with no-tell spells. Done the best we can to minimize our
risk. What gets out, gets out. Anything else?”

Luthan
hesitated, then nodded to Chasonette. “The bird has brought murmurings of some
folks banding together to defeat the Exotiques before they lead us to
extinction. Several times.” He shifted uneasily. With a grimace, he ran his
fingers through his hair. “I sense that it’s based on the same affliction I
have, the repulsion reflex.”

“Hate
crimes.” Alexa’s eyes narrowed, her lips thinned. “Nothing I despise more than
hate crimes.”

In
that instant Jikata knew the shadow prophecies that had trailed after Alexa had
been true. She would have made an excellent federal judge in the States.

Expressions
hardened. Bri’s husband, Sevair Masif, the stonemason and Townmaster said,
“I’ve made the rounds of the village, of the fair, every day. I haven’t heard
anything like that here.”

Raine
frowned. “There were some sailors who had that reaction to me when I first
came, but I don’t know that I’ve seen them again…don’t know that I saw them
well enough in the first place to recognize them. Also…”

“Also?”
Alexa’s tone was cross-examination sharp.

“Also
there were a couple of Seamasters who Sang in the Apology Ritual, but didn’t
mean it.”

Faucon
said, “I’ll check that out.”

“Good,”
Bastien said.

Marian
sighed. “We can only minimize the risk. But it’s still…”

“A
big, whomping risk,” Alexa said.

Raine
fidgeted again. Jikata realized that of all of them, she was the one that fear
weighed down the most, the heroine of the day.

I
t was the
strangest launch party Raine had ever attended and was interspersed with talk,
talk, talk. None of the Exotiques, particularly Raine, could escape for more
than the few minutes it took to go to the bathroom.

Exhilarating
to have all this praise heaped on her, the launch party to end all launch
parties—though the ship had just been raised, not actually launched.

Raine
noticed Jikata got her fair share of attention, but people tended to be more
wary around her—a new, unknown Exotique, one who had been trained by the Singer
and might even replace the Singer. The vital woman Raine and the others had
connected with had disappeared behind a public mask that Raine envied. She
wasn’t used to being a star.

When
all the discussion and celebration was over and silence encompassed the manor,
Raine left the house and walked down to the beach.

Song
still rolled within her like a low undercurrent, something that might stay with
her forever. The Song of the deep oceans of Amee, the streams and flows of the
waters, the everlasting surf against shore.

Perfect.

And
there, anchored out a ways, in just enough water to accommodate her draft, was
her ship.
The Echo
sat in the moonlit night as lovely as any dream.

She
thought it was more beautiful than any sailing ship built on Earth. Her design,
but the sweep of its line had a Lladranan flair.

For
now, there was no one on her. Tomorrow sailors would swarm over her, learn her
planks and her paces, her sails and her speed. The next day they would start
the tests for who’d crew her.

Tonight
the ship was Raine’s and only Raine’s.

She
stripped down to the long underwear Lladranans wore, waded into the chill sea
and let the shock of the cold take her first breath, then swam fast and hard to
the lowered rope ladder.

It
took more exertion than she expected to climb up the story and a half, but she
was still cold and shivering when she went through the hatch and slipped onto
the main deck. Through chattering teeth, she Sang a spell that dried and warmed
her.

For
long minutes she stood still and soaked up the sounds of the sea, the quiet
creaking of the boat, decks newly formed and smelling fresh, the movement of
the rope rigging, the whisper of the sail.

Her
toes curled at the gentle rocking under her, the feel of the deck under her.
One of the best feelings in the world, standing on your own ship, ready to sail
away.

Others
had helped, but without her,
The Echo
would not exist.
She’d
done
this, designed and built this beautiful ship, the greatest achievement of her
life.

Slowly
she walked the length of the ship, staring at the wonderful detailed carving of
the inside, scrolls and garlands she’d half recalled from ships on Earth and
those the sailors and Deauvilles had wanted.

Peeking
out from a wooden leaf an eye seemed to wink at her. She went closer.

A
gargoyle! And not just any gargoyle. This one was a caricature of Bastien, a
sly smile on his face. The carving was fabulous, with a delicacy that she
didn’t think the Deauvilles had. Then she knew. Sevair Masif, the Townmaster
and Bri’s husband. He was a stonemason, but obviously could also work his craft
in wood. Blinking to make out details in the shadows and silver of the
moonlight, she looked for others, continuing aft past the cabin to the poop
deck reserved for the volarans.

And
she knew they were all here. Every Chevalier, every Marshall, every volaran,
with blank spaces ready to be carved for the sailors.

The
Echo
was a visual testament to those who sailed her to destroy the Dark.

She
gulped down tears, put her clasped hands over her heart and heard the bump,
bump, bump. How could she let someone else captain this ship?

Drawing
in a clearing breath, she took the ladder up to the volaran’s deck, for them to
lift off and land. The winged horses had made it clear that they would be
rotating who would sail and who would fly.
The Echo
would make faster
time except at night.

More
decoration here, with Chevalier and Marshall figures.

She
wondered if Sevair had carved her, the designer, and where her figure might be,
what expression she might have.

“Raine.”
Another whisper of sound, almost lost in the breeze, a caress wafted to her.

But
she knew the soft call, the personal Song of the man splashing quietly below in
the water.

She
hurried down the ladder to the main deck, to the access portal, and looked down
to see Faucon swimming in the water. “Raine.”

Water
slicked his hair back from his face and once again her heart squeezed as she
felt the attraction of him, her lover. More beautiful than the ship.

“May
I come aboard?” he asked.

“Ayes.”

With
widened eyes, she saw him easily swing up the ladder. He was nude.

Not
shivering, either, which meant he had some sort of swimming-warming spell that
she didn’t know about.

The
quiet within her now changed to thrumming anticipation.

He
was simply gorgeous, in shape and in movement.

When
he reached the deck, he looked around with awe.

“There
is nothing like your Ship on all of Amee,” he said, striding forward to take
her hands, then lifted them to his lips and kissed each finger. “You must be so
proud of your triumph.
I’m
so proud of you.”

When
had anyone from her family said that to her? She’d had to see in the mirrors
how much they valued her skill.

All
her insides wrenched.

And
wind that was not of Amee whistled around her, slapped the sails. The air
shimmered again, not a natural phenomena, then a hole opened, showing a
corridor.

The
Dimensional Corridor, the dimensional winds.

The
Snap!

Faucon’s
eyes went bleak, his face expressionless after a flash of agony. He let go of
her hands, stepped back, said nothing. Just stared as the winds of the
Dimensional Corridor whipped around her.

Her
heart broke at the sight of him. As if he’d known all along this Snap was
inevitable and that she’d leave, though she hadn’t mentioned going since they’d
become lovers.

She
knew he’d shouted for Elizabeth to stay. He said nothing to Raine, but kept his
gaze locked on her, surely that meant something?

He’d
never said he’d loved her.

Slowly
the winds turned her and the Corridor solidified more around her. She caught a
blur of movement from a balcony of the manor house, knew it was Jikata. Did
she
see the Dimensional Corridor? Even as the thought went through Raine’s head she
saw
in a different manner.

Home.

The
house she’d shared with her father and brothers, had grown up in. Herself
there, celebrating Thanksgiving, laughing, surrounded by love. It was noisy and
active, as it had always been. Children surrounding her, a couple of them hers.
The vision shifted and she saw two buildings, facing each other. One was the
old shipyard where they all worked, the newer one was smaller, sleeker, as were
the ships docked near it. The sign read Raine Lindley Racing Yachts. A glimpse
inside the door showed photos of grinning men and women holding trophies. One
of the guys was blond and handsome with a charming smile and bright blue eyes
and her heart squeezed, knowing that he’d be her husband, her love on Earth.

She
had what she had wanted there, she knew. A prestigious reputation for building
the fastest, the most modern ships, a good life with a husband and children to
come. A wonderful, fulfilling, easy life.

She
looked back at the man who loved her now. His shoulders were stiff, his biceps
bunched, his hands fisted.