Protector of the Flight

Calli sniffed, it smelled minty.

“Only water with peppermint,” Marian said.

Calli didn’t drink.

Alexa heaved a sigh. “On my word of honor, only minty water.” She touched her baton sheath.

Marian nodded. “On my word of honor.”

Alexa was from Denver and Marian from Boulder. Both city types. Would their words be good? Calli considered them and decided to trust them. It might just be a dream, after all.

As the water slid down her throat, leaving a tang of peppermint on her tongue, Calli thought it tasted awfully good and was pretty damn wet for a dream. She finished the glass and handed it to Marian, who put it back on the table.

“First things first,” Alexa said, starting toward the door. Bastien tucked Calli’s hand in his elbow and he and Calli followed Alexa.

Alexa continued. “This is the main healing room in the Keep of the Castle.”

“Keep?” asked Calli. That didn’t sound too familiar.

“Uh, the Marshalls’ Headquarters,” Alexa said. They exited into a wide hallway made of gray stone. Rustling behind her told Calli that others would be leaving, too. Now that they’d healed her. Huh. She wondered who would accompany her on the “tour.” She had an idea Marian and Faucon would come along.

“We’re on the second story of a five-story building, near the front that faces the Temple Ward. A ‘ward’ is a courtyard, and this one has a big, round Temple at the end. That’s where we Summoned you and where you came through the dimensional corridor this morning,” Alexa said.

They turned left and walked to the end of the hallway to a set of stairs.

“We’ll give you a map,” Alexa said.

“When we brief you later,” Marian said. “In private.”

That might be good. So many new faces were a little intimidating. Calli really hadn’t believed she had such an imagination to populate this dream. All of her other dreams—until recently—had been of simple stuff.

She suddenly recalled the dream that had woken her that morning. Alarms. People needing help…like several she’d had lately.

They tromped down the stairs and sounded like a bunch of people clattering down a stone staircase. The floor was hard under the soles of her boots, too.

“My tower’s diagonally behind us.” A smile flickered over Alexa’s face. “I have a whole tower to myself, here at the Marshalls’ Castle. I also have an estate of my own. You’ll get one, too.”

“A spread of my own?” Calli pounced on the statement.

“Yes.”

“Are there mountains?” Even walking down the large hallway, Calli could tell the air was more humid, felt different in her nose and on her tongue than the air she was used to. All her senses fed her unfamiliar information. She had to be dreaming, or there was a really big catch.

A shadow passed over Alexa’s face and for the first time she answered hesitantly. “There are mountains, but I don’t think you should live in them.”

“I can handle anything the mountains throw at me,” Calli said. She’d been through blizzard and fire and drought. But that was Colorado. If she was in some other dangerous place, she didn’t want to stay. She wanted her land, her ranch.

They reached a door. Alexa threw it open.

And Calli saw dozens of winged horses. Once again a flood of affection came from them.

Bastien urged her forward, but as soon as she took a step outside into the yard, the horses trumpeted in greeting.

She couldn’t help herself. Fascination at their beauty mesmerized her. She threw off Bastien’s hold and strode into the yard and was immediately surrounded by horseflesh. No, volaran flesh. Warm and fragrant and strong and just completely marvelous.

They pushed against her, noses snuffling at her hair, her shoulders, everywhere.

She was buffeted and…passed around.

What was even more fabulous was that she heard—whisperings—brushing her mind.

Our Exotique.

Our Calli.

Our friend.

She reached out and stroked a neck, patted a nose and finally touched the wing of the dappled gray stallion.

The volarans moved several lengths away from her and the gray. The courtyard fell silent. Quietly, with infinite grace, the gray stretched out his wing for her to study.

It was simply the most beautiful thing Calli had ever seen. Huge and soft with feathers. But this was a big horse. She didn’t know how it could fly.

Magic. She heard the word clearly in her mind. And our bones are strong but hollow.

She swallowed.

Quick, small footsteps advanced and Alexa joined her. The woman’s face was alight with wonder.

“They love you,” Alexa said. “You’ve only just met them and they all love you.”

Once more Calli became aware of the delight emanating from them. This time it wasn’t words or just a feeling. This time it was a Song of welcome, blended of harmonies that sang of wild flight with the wind, of running, of pirouetting and playing in the air.

Like the sound that she had heard as a child when riding free and fast across a mountain meadow. A sound so sweet it made tears sting her eyes.

There were quick notes that skipped like her pulse before a barrel-riding competition.

The tune changed, became a song of fighting in battle.

An alarm clanged, echoing around the stone castle walls, pounding danger into the silence, breaking the mental song into a hundred fragments.

“Horrors invading through Arde Pass!” Alexa shouted.

Suddenly Bastien was there, running past them and grabbing Alexa. Saddles appeared on the backs of many volarans. Calli goggled. Had to be magic.

Bastien flung Alexa up onto the back of a big, black volaran, sprang into the saddle behind her and they rose in an upward spiral.

Calli’s breath caught as feathered wings swept the sky, flashing all colors against a bright blue. There was nothing so beautiful as a volaran in flight. The loveliness tightened her stomach.

Others ran and claimed their mounts. Calli saw Lady Hallard, Faucon, a man in pristine white leathers. Chevaliers in riding garb and Marshalls in their armor, all rose on a flurry of wings.

Two hawks bulleted from the Castle walls and flew beside Alexa. Soon, only a few volarans remained in the courtyard, including the gray and a mare with her young filly. Marian, a tall man with startling blue eyes and a golden headband standing next to her and some soldiers were the only people around.

Slowly Calli turned to the Circlets—Marian and her husband. A question she didn’t want answered tore from her throat. “Where did they go?”

“They go to fight the invading monsters. To live or die,” Marian said, face white and strained.

It had to be a dream.

4

Calli ran her fingers all along her skull, paying attention to her temples, and the side of her head that would have hit the crystal. No cracks, no breaks. No pain.

She pressed a hand to her chest, felt the thump-thump-thump of her heart. Hearing it in her temples, it was slightly loud, slightly fast.

“You really are in a different world,” Marian said. Her gaze swept the empty ward, her smile forced. “Well, it looks as if the briefing is up to me.” Her hand reached out for the man’s next to her and was immediately clasped and squeezed.

Another woman who’d found love on Lladrana.

After a deep breath, Marian said, “We have several choices as to where to go. Alexa’s tower guest suite is open. The Chevaliers, of course, prepared a suite in Horseshoe Hall and Jaquar and I are living in the Sorcerers’ guest rooms. We’ll have tea.”

Calli stared at her. “Tea! What about beer? Better yet, whiskey.”

The man snorted. He appeared totally masculine in the long robe. A thought struck Calli.

“Shouldn’t he not understand us?”

Marian flushed, but answered with more grace than Calli might have managed. “We’ve developed a potion that helps with language comprehension. Naturally, we needed a test subject. Jaquar volunteered. He’s the only Lladranan who understands contemporary American usage.”

“You said you were from Boulder. The university, right? What were you, a prof?” Calli asked.

“Close, a grad student on the way to a professorship and a nice tenure track.”

“I might understand the words, but the concept of that last sentence eluded me,” Jaquar said in English. He bowed. “My pleasure to meet you, Lady Callista Torcher.”

“Boy, you catch on fast.” Calli stared at him. His words had a definite lilt, especially when pronouncing her name, but were perfectly understandable.

Since Calli wasn’t wearing a dress, and wasn’t sure how to curtsey anyway, she inclined her torso. Without pain. That notion still amazed her.

“Though drink sounds good, I think it might be most illuminating for Calli to visit the Map Room,” Jaquar said.

“I don’t know—” Calli started.

The little filly danced up to Calli, butted her. I am here and wanted you here and we all wanted you here and you came! Love us.

Another hard shot to the heart. How could she not love this dainty…what? Tentatively she stretched out her hand and stroked the little hor—volaran top to toe.

The dappled gray crowded close. Except for this one, I am the best at talking to humans. So I am yours to partner with. He nickered, then sniffed at her. You are healed and well. Want to fly?

Her hand went to her throat, clogged with turbulent emotions. Would they ever calm down and sort out? What a day! “I…I don’t know how.”

The volaran blinked. She’d spoken English. But it had spoken…what? Pressing her lips together in concentration, she sent her wide-eyed amazement at a flying horse to the volaran, with the image of a lot of horses—a herd of horses, and no volarans.

Horses only? His mental voice held disbelief.

She nodded. Yes. Nibbling her bottom lip, she considered what to do. Just the offer by the gray volaran was a challenge.

Marian and Jaquar stared at her, muttering to each other, faces set in fascinated expressions.

“You’re talking to the volaran?” asked Jaquar.

“Did he speak telepathically to you?” Marian said at the same time.

Calli rolled her eyes. “Shit, you two.”

Marian chuckled. “Yes, we’re endlessly interested in everything. I saw you nod. A nod means agreement, just like in the States.”

Practicality surfaced. Calli’d never ridden a strange horse without playing games on the ground with it first. She sent an image of her favorite game, followed by Play first?

Snorting, the volaran said, I am not a horse. Volarans are much superior. He paused and she realized that he wasn’t speaking English or—or that other language. He was speaking horse-volaran-equine.

And she was understanding, in her mind and by watching him—eyes, ears, mouth and feet.

We play games in the air.

Well, that let her out. Volaran or not, she’d bet that, like horses, these equines tested their leaders. She may have been welcomed by them, felt that wave of love, but that didn’t mean they’d automatically elect her leader.

My back is broad and I will be careful. Just a short ride…I will use no distance magic.

I will be in charge, Calli replied, lifting her chin, getting the hang of the talking. She felt she spoke horse better than any other language.

Of course. Was there a hint of slyness in that reply, in the dapple’s eyes?

It didn’t matter. Anything other than a flying horse, Calli could have resisted. But if this was a dream, she didn’t want to wake before she’d flown on a winged horse.

Me, too. Me, too. Me! The filly gamboled about. Tossed her head, then blew out a little breath and continued, My Dam will fly with me. We will all fly together.

The gray’s back rippled and a saddle appeared on it. Calli went up and checked the tack. It was harsher on horse—volaran—than the bits and bridles and saddle she usually used.

That would change if she stayed…if she awoke and it wasn’t a dream.

No, said the mare to her filly. Thunder and the Lady will fly high and fast and far. We will stay here.

The filly huffed and circled the courtyard.

Smiling, Calli unsaddled and unbridled the volaran, leaving the equipment on the ground. He watched her with an astonished gaze. So did the Circlets. Marian’s mouth had fallen open. Calli sensed that both she and her husband rode horses and flew volarans.

She’d like a hackamore, but if she was going to impress the stallion, she’d go all the way bareback. Hey, if it was a dream, all she’d do was wake up if she fell, and if it wasn’t, well, maybe her life wasn’t too much to pay for a ride on a flying horse.

Don’t you humans need those things? The stallion still looked at the saddle.

Trying to talk in her head and aloud, Calli said. “I didn’t like the tack I saw.”

“Oh,” Marian said.

Calli smiled. “Ever hear of natural horsemanship?”

Marian relaxed and smiled, too. “Of course. I saw a few demonstrations.” Her face clouded. “I never learned and my mother’s polo ponies—” She stopped.

“Polo.” Calli huffed a breath. Were they from different backgrounds or what?

With a determined nod, Marian strode to face the gray stallion. “Listen here.” She gestured to Calli. “This is your Exotique. If you lose her, you will have to explain to the Chevaliers why. And those who brought her here will reconsider Summoning someone else if you have no respect for her.”

Calli could have told Marian that she was wasting her breath. The volaran was paying more attention to Calli stroking his ears than Marian’s words. A shadow in his mind did hint at a concern of losing her and explaining that to the alphas in Volaran Valley.

As she continued caressing his ears, he relaxed, just as the horses she knew did, lowering his head.

Smiling, she relaxed, too, relieved. She did have knowledge that could apply to volarans. She ran her hand from neck to shoulder, shoulder to withers and barrel, again and again. His coat was silkier, softer than horsehair, as if each individual piece was not a hair strand but a minute feather. He stood quiet under her hands, yet pleasure emanated from him. Occasionally she sensed a “nudge” to rub or scratch him in a particular spot.

Cautiously, she set her hand on the upper edge of the muscular ridge where his wings attached to his body, marveling again at them—their softness, the coloring that complemented his coat. All the equine cues she’d read showed respect. With a deep breath and a prayer in her heart, she set one hand in the dark mane, the other in the small of his back and hauled herself up—nearly flew onto him. Something inside her sprang open, imbuing her with energy and grace and…and…magic?

She rubbed up his neck, all the while realizing that he was extraordinary, felt more than horselike. His wings fluttered against the back of her calves, causing an amazing feeling to well up inside her. As if here, on the back of this volaran, was her true destiny. For a moment she just sat, eyes closed. He didn’t smell horselike, but sweet and musky, like some crumbling amber she’d once had.

Interesting, he said. The neck muscles under her hand moved and she opened her eyes to see him staring at her. He whinnied. You feel good, you have great Power. Let’s go. He lifted his wings.

Calli’s stomach dipped. One moment. She scanned the area. The courtyard was huge.

Now she’d see if he’d obey her. Back for a running start.

Don’t need a running start.

Again she stilled, let the beginning of her day rerun in her head, how she’d risen with pain, negotiated the steps, called for her horse…the emptiness she’d felt for months at not riding. Then she settled back, brought her legs forward slightly, squeezed and released. Back.

The volaran backed, she even turned him so they had all the courtyard ahead of them. Her mind seemed to touch his and it was almost as if they were one creature and not two. He was calm and a little amused.

“Good going!” Marian called. She and Jaquar had stayed near the door of the big square building with the large round corner towers. All along the courtyard people showed up in the walks to watch. Calli thought she saw money changing hands. She chuckled. Maybe not too different from Ea—Colorado after all. For a dream.

Finally, they stopped in the shadow of the huge white round temple behind them. At the opposite end of the courtyard was a three-story building with two small towers.

Another big breath. Soon she’d find out just how well she’d healed. The courtyard was paved with large gray stones. She leaned forward, whispering in the volaran’s ear and in its mind. Ready to run?

Yes.

Go!

He ran. Elation flooded her. No pain! More, the volaran’s gait was smooth, his body powerful under her. Strength and vitality flowed from hindquarters to neck, sifting down to his wingtips. She felt his energy mingling with her new extra sense. Before they were halfway down the courtyard his wings lifted, caught the air and they were soaring!

Calli gasped as they cleared the buildings, gasped again as she saw an additional courtyard beyond the one that held the temple. They flew high, angling toward the sun, and the moment was so huge, so incredible that it sank into her forever like she’d been gilded with sunlight.

Once again that day she lived in a moment of exquisite awareness, of total brilliance. The blue bowl of the sky dusted with clouds whirled around her and her mount. The entire universe centered around her and every wonderful thing in it focused on her.

She was life.

She was Power.

She flew.

Song filled her ears—wispy airs from the clouds, a hollow gonglike reverberation pulsing from the sky, a small, erratic Song radiating from the eart—planet below.

The planet is named Amee, said the volaran.

His Song enveloped them, laughing, exhilarated. He swept through a cloud and tiny particles shivered over her skin and cooled her.

She laughed to herself.

I am Gray-Clouds-That-May-Rain-Or-Thunder-Or-Clear.

The English name sounded awkward in her head—the name was more than an image, it was active motion. A sky billowing with gray clouds of infinite possibilities which might change any moment. A future of many paths hung on that name. She’d call him Thunder.

“Callista” meant “most beautiful” and until now she’d never felt she’d lived up to that name.

But now, now, as they rode through the sunlight and shadow, wind tearing her hair back from her face, caressing her body, atop the volaran, Calli was the most beautiful woman in two worlds.

Finally she looked down and her gut clenched. She held tight to Thunder’s mane. The world below was green and fertile. And a long, long, long way down. What had possessed her to fly without tack? Yes, she, a wingless human did need something familiar to hang on to, even if it wasn’t as horse-friendly as it should have been.

She could almost hear herself go splat. Then she saw what she was flying over. Rolling green land. Fields. Woods. Manor houses. Villages. She thought a couple of towers and spires on the horizon to her left might be a small city. Land like this on Earth would be crowded with people.

Scents rose to her—rich and summer and humid, lush with verdant plant life. Not Colorado.

Was she dreaming? Or had she really fallen through that crystal to another world and was finally living the life always destined for her?

Too much. Far too many exotic, exciting experiences today. She nudged Thunder to circle and return to the Castle. He ignored her.

Panic twinged each nerve, though she kept an easy, calm and confident posture.

Thunder chuckled in her mind and she realized that flying on a volaran would take different skills. She was used to thinking through any demonstration of horse fears, staying positive. She wasn’t accustomed to some damn horse rustling around in her mind. With a couple of breaths, she settled herself completely. She was sure that she was the alpha in this situation, despite what Thunder thought.

With her legs, hands and mind, she concentrated on the pressure points of the horse/volaran’s body. Horses were prey animals, always aware of their surroundings. Calli didn’t sense that volarans here were as preyed upon as horses had been on Earth, but they would have prey instincts.

Humans were predators. She didn’t want to remind Thunder of that, she just wanted him to accept her as the alpha of the herd. The herd of two here in the sky. She kept her own concerns tightly reined. He might sense them, but he’d also see that she did not allow them to control her.

She reached out and touched the wing ridge of the side she wanted to turn.

He dipped.

She hung on and asked again for a turn.

He glanced back, lowered his head, licked his lips and made a wonderful, sweeping turn.

“Yee-ha!” she shouted into the blue, rubbing Thunder’s neck.

His mind melded with hers. You are most beautiful.

Soon a rocky promontory was in sight, and upon it, the Castle. She sighed, definitely ready to return. Calli noted how big the Castle was, larger than she’d thought. Frowning, she understood that there must be even more to it than the two courtyards she’d seen. On the land below it—what direction?—was a large town.

South of the Castle is Castleton.

Castleton, huh? Well, that made sense. And if Castleton was south, that meant they were flying east toward the Castle and had been flying west to the…great lake? Sea? Ocean?

The Circlets have Towers on the islands off the west coast of Lladrana in the Sea of Brisay.

Thunder seemed eager to please, now. His mind was completely unruffled, and completely accepting of her.

Calli tried more telepathy. I saw no one else flying.

The horrors invade from the north. Thunder tensed under her. He flew faster, tucked his legs close to his body. A prey animal making himself a smaller target. Whatever these horrors were, Calli got the idea that they ate volarans. Predators.

You will see, Thunder said. He quivered and his thoughts disintegrated into images and shapes and tones she couldn’t understand. True equinespeak that she could feel but not completely understand.

The Castle loomed bigger and bigger, with a wall about three stories high and the square building with four towers rising an extra two.

Awesome.

Most of it was gray stone, though part was of yellow, and she could discern the round white building of the great Temple.

There is a Landing Field. Thunder’s ears flicked. It was more a question than statement.

We will land from where we took off. I’m sure Marian and Jaquar are waiting for us. Now she thought of them, she could feel them, as if they’d connected with her some way. During the healing? Probably. Wouldn’t folks who healed you with magic from the inside be connected with you afterward? Made sense. She might have a lot of bonds already, then. Huh.

More than feeling them, she could hear Songs. An interesting, intricate Song with echoes of Earth rhythms from Marian, an equally complicated, more masculine bass and brass from Jaquar. And a powerful twining Song greater-than-its-parts from them as a couple.

She saw them in the courtyard, sitting and observing her, leaning together. A brief spurt of envy held her still.

Thunder zoomed down, turned. The wind caught his wings and he tipped sideways. Calli’s fingers slipped from his mane and she fell right off him. She screamed and plummeted. A whisk of air surrounded her, spun her like she was trapped in a gentle whirlwind, then she was righted and set onto her feet before Marian and Jaquar.

Marian’s eyes were huge, her hands to her throat. Jaquar’s right arm was outstretched. Calli stared at it. It had been he, the Sorcerer, who’d caught her and brought her down safely.

Magic.

She really needed that whiskey.

Marrec could hardly believe Dark Lance was back and they were flying to battle, just as they had for many years. He swallowed hard. The cool wind stung his eyes. He blinked and looked around him, awed by the sight of all the Marshalls and Chevaliers streaming to the battlefield at the same time. Bright colors, shining armor and gleaming volaran coats flowed like banners against the summer blue sky.