Echoes in the Dark

Raine gritted her teeth—sounded like some novels she’d enjoyed but didn’t believe. Obviously the others had the same taste in fiction.

Her body remained tense until she knew nobody was coming after her, though from the buzzing in her mind she understood that the others were discussing her. Fine.

She’d meant to turn back to town, but her feet took her to the Temple. As usual, the hum of Power in the building enveloped her, merged with her own, and she felt less anxious, more able to handle anything that happened.

She wasn’t the only one in the Temple. Knots of Chevaliers were discussing the new situation and she sensed they were all relieved not to have been in a Summoning circle.

Some individuals were Singing—praying. Raine heard one soprano requesting she do well on the trials for the invasion force and be chosen to go on the great adventure.

Raine shuddered.

Though people nodded at her, no one bothered her and she went to the altar again. The chime candles were lit.

She stared at the gong. There was something about it. She walked around it, brushed it with fingertips. There was an energy she couldn’t quite understand but thought she should….

Raine! Puppy Enerin bulleted to her, jumped into her arms.

Looking up at her with huge brown eyes and tongue lolling, Enerin said, I can now do many, many shifts and forms. As many as I like! The puppy rolled from Raine’s grasp to under the altar cloth and emerged as a kitten.

You like this form best. She smiled a little cat smile showing baby teeth.

Raine smiled back.

Now I can go with you on the Ship.

Raine stopped smiling.

Singer’s Abbey

The next morning, Jikata awoke late and only thought she was in Denver for a few seconds. The new soundtrack of her life reminded her she was in Lladrana. For better or worse. She was managing to deal with the day-to-day stresses. Still, she’d need some answers soon.

Chasonette chirped, “Salutations, Jikata.”

“Hello, Chasonette.”

Apparently the bird took that as an invitation to fly through the open side bed curtains and perch on her knee. Chasonette tilted her head and revved up her personal Song. Jikata eyed her. “So, Chasonette, what do you want?”

The cockatoo shifted from one of Jikata’s knees to the other, her tail lifted and dipped and Jikata had misgivings but the cover stayed clean. A tiny sound almost like the clearing of a throat came from the bird.

I am your companion.

“I suppose so.”

So I should be with you all the time.

Jikata chose careful words. “I don’t believe that’s true.”

The bird seemed to perk up. No?

“No.”

The feycoocus and volarans said so. One yellow eye turned to consider Jikata.

“What are faycouscous and volarans?”

Chasonette preened. I am with you to help you learn our ways.

“Thank you.”

Feycoocus are magical beings. A trill of Song, full of wonder. They can shape-shift into many bird forms. Animals, too. Chasonette clicked her beak in disapproval. They are about my size, whatever shape.

“Ah.”

Volarans are winged horses.

“Oh, right.” The maid had used that word last night when Jikata had opened the curtains at the foot of the bed. Jikata had been nude and that hadn’t seemed to bother the young woman, but leaving the curtains open had. They’d had a mimed discussion that got vigorous, particularly after Jikata had asked who’d see her from the third-story window, with no close buildings around. The maid had flapped her arms like a bird, then galloped like a horse. Jikata hadn’t believed her, they’d both thrown up their hands, then the maid had made a pleading face. Jikata had given up and gotten into bed fully intending to open the curtains but had immediately fallen asleep.

The afternoon before had consisted of a quick tour, then lunch, then bathing in a wonderful spa-like pool under one of the buildings, a massage, then dinner.

Learning to live with a soundtrack had taken a lot out of her and she’d retired early.

Now she said, “Flying horses?”

Of course.

They stared at each other. Chasonette clicked her beak. Come to the window, then. She flew there.

Jikata slid off the high bed, grabbed a robe hanging on a garment rack, slipped it on, tied the belt, then sauntered over to the window.

Chasonette gave a piercing whistle that had Jikata stumbling back, then the bird turned her head and ruffled her comb. Wait. They are not as fast as birds.

Jikata shrugged, looked for her backpack. Obsessive or not, she always checked it every morning and every evening. The bag, and smaller pouches within, were all she had of her own…world. Everything was there, but a little jumbled, not in the order she liked. She arranged the smaller bags.

Chasonette whistled again, and Jikata looked up, irritated.

And froze.

Hovering outside her window was a gorgeous animal.

It looked like a horse with wings.

The song coming from it was ravishing.

It is one of the Abbey volarans. It is glad to see you so it can gain status with gossip. But it is not good at staying in place. Chasonette tapped the window glass with her beak. The horse flung up its head, then fell away, wings beating.

“Wait!” Jikata dropped her pack, but by the time she reached the windows it was out of sight.

I am your companion, Chasonette said. She slid a glittering gaze toward Jikata. But I don’t think I need to be with you when you have your lessons from the Singer this morning or visit the Caverns of Prophecy this afternoon. She fluffed up her feathers as if cold.

Jikata felt a chill, too. Of change, of premonition.

9

Marshalls’ Castle

Raine watched her beautiful model boat cruise around the sacred pool in the Temple. She was pretty sure this design would work to take an invasion force to the Dark’s volcanic island. It had room enough for crew, provisions, twenty-five pairs of Marshalls, twenty of the top Chevaliers, six Circlets of the sorcerous persuasion, six Friends from the Singer’s Abbey, flying horses for all of them, the four Exotiques and their mates and the remaining two Exotiques, which included her.

She didn’t want to go invade a hideous evil so huge and ancient it could suck the life out of a planet.

It was the biggest ship she’d ever designed by herself or with her family in Connecticut. It was all wrong that she should be working on a galleon, a battleship, instead of a yacht. It was beautiful.

She’d gotten used to building models by magic here in Lladrana, designing them on heavy handmade paper, cutting and folding them until they looked like the ship she’d seen in her mind, setting them in water, then concentrating hard with her Power, and making the pulp in the paper into wood that was a model ship. She didn’t think the process would work for a real, full-sized ship.

Not to mention it lacked a power source.

The model floated and cut through the water of the pool fine, pushed around by her Power. She couldn’t imagine even the most Powerful of the mages on Lladrana mentally propelling the ship. Wouldn’t it drain them quickly and leave them stranded?

Of course it had two big masts, two small ones and sails. They could take advantage of the wind.

Except no one had consulted any sailors. The anger of most of Lladranan society toward the Seamasters who had messed up Raine’s own Summoning was still in force.

Raine’s early days on Lladrana were fading into a bad dream.

But right now she was all too aware that she couldn’t build the ship, power it, sail it, alone.

That meant she had to release the last bit of grudge against the Seamasters and make the first overture, bring them into the fold to help plan the defeat of the Dark.

She’d spent a month understanding the needs of the Lladranans, designing and revising the ship. It was a fine vessel and a work of art and would carry exactly what everyone told her it needed to carry. She had different versions for different power systems, steam and diesel.

Here in the Marshalls’ Castle and her tidy house in Castleton, she’d hidden and healed. Now she was nervous about the time it would take to build the ship. All the prophecies of this land stated that the battle would take place this year.

Since time flowed the same here as at home, that meant they were in the beginning of August. Casually, she’d dropped questions about shipbuilding to Marian, who spent most of her time working on the final “City Destroyer” spell. Marian thought it could take out the Dark’s island.

Probably with all of them on it.

But most were primed for the suicide mission, to sacrifice their lives to destroy the Dark.

Raine had never planned to “go” that way.

So she’d concentrated on the ship instead, as all of them wished, and had asked Marian how long it took to build a ship. Marian had gone all distant, as if recalling something she’d read. She’d absently replied, “Three days with Power,” turned her mind back to her studies and didn’t see Raine stagger away.

Looking again at her model, which had floated to the center of the pool and sat in dead calm, Raine shook her head. She could do another test of seaworthiness on it—making the pool ripple with huge waves to batter it. Raine had lived with tides and oceans all her life and knew to the salt of her blood how they moved. But the ship was excellent, one of her best efforts.

It had no Power source.

Time to look at a real ship.

Everyone had been very protective of her. Except for the strange flight a couple of nights before, Raine had stayed in the Castle and the city for the past month—she’d never lived inland and away from the sea for so long. She yearned for the scent of the beach, the sound of the surf.

Just as the month before that she’d yearned to be able to go inland more than a couple of miles.

She really wanted to come and go as she pleased.

She left her ship in the pool and exited the Temple to a cloudy summer day, cool for Connecticut and cool for Lladrana. The planet was dying under the onslaught of the Dark, the weather chilling. She’d welcomed the two previous days of sun.

The courtyard of the Castle bustled, as usual. That morning there’d been an alarm that monsters were invading from the north. Marshalls and Chevaliers had flown to battle. Raine had clutched her newest model in her hands and run to the Map Room, had seen that the incursion was minor, and forced herself to finish her last experiments in the Temple. She had really wanted to stay and watch the animated map, particularly the orange-red shields that were Faucon and his team. But she had her own task.

Now she heard the clang of the siren pulse in notes that told everyone the Castle teams had been triumphant, and waited, heart squeezing, for the pause then the indication of casualties. The quiet went on and on and she heard a couple of soldiers next to her sigh as she did. No deaths.

They bowed to her, a man and a woman, and she smiled back, cleared her throat. “How long will it take for the Marshalls and Chevaliers to return?”

The man’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “They were north and far to the east. Quite a distance. A few hours.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Seamistress Exotique.”

She jolted inwardly at the title but didn’t let it show. They walked away, the woman whistling.

Seamistress Exotique. The title was wrong. She could design pretty ships, make sure they were seaworthy, but knew little enough about the seas and oceans of Lladrana—the Brisay Sea dotted with islands off the western shore, the colder waters north on the way to the Dark’s island, the narrow channel between continents that was the only way to approach the island.

Time to remedy that, to finish her job. When her particular task was done, the Snap would come. The Snap was the call of Mother Earth to her wandering child to return. Earth was a lot stronger than the planet Amee. If Raine wanted to return, and she did, all she had to do was let herself be taken home by the Snap.

She only hoped that part of her job was not invading the island, prayed it was only finishing and building the ship.

But she had to take the next steps and the sooner, the better. She knew of one ship only that she could study in complete safety, Faucon Creusse’s yacht. Surely it would have an additional power source other than sails.

He didn’t like her and she was wildly attracted to him. But she wasn’t going to get involved with a Lladranan. Four out of five women from Earth had already fallen for sexy Lladranan men and forsaken their birth homes.

Raine was ready to return to designing fast, double-hulled vessels of cutting-edge metal alloys. She’d been unhappy with her place in her business, but hadn’t been willing to cut the bonds.

With the Seamasters’ faulty Summoning, the bonds had been cut for her. She loved her father and brothers, suffered at the thought of their grief in thinking she’d been lost to the sea, but when she returned she wouldn’t stay with the business. She was tired of wooden ships.

She snorted. One last, huge, wooden ship to build, then freedom.

Now was a good time to go to the coast and look at Faucon’s yacht while he was flying back from battle.

Raine called her very own winged horse mentally, Blossom!

I am here, Raine, Blossom replied, sending along a wash of love that had Raine sniffing back tears. She was so blessed now. She had a being who loved her, who would put her first before any other person. That was a gratitude she clutched close to her heart, so much different than six months ago, when she’d been a despised potgirl in a fishing village inn. Raine sensed Blossom at the Landing Field. Raine had magic now, a great deal of it, called Power. And that was so different than a year ago when she’d been much younger and rebelling against family tradition.

Lladrana was so different, so scary in those first isolated winter weeks that, looking back, she wasn’t quite sure how she survived.

But she had, and now she was an Exotique, a person valued above all others—except by those who had an instinctive repulsion to the alien women.

Time to see how free she really was. Please request one of the Castle squires prepare you for a flight.

Blossom squealed in joy. We are flying? More than just exercise?

Ayes, we go to Faucon’s castle, Creusse Crest, and back. She should have made up her mind earlier. Even with Distance Magic, the trip to the coast and back would be a long haul…if she’d accepted the land the Lladranan’s had offered her, she’d have had a seaside estate and could have stayed there tonight. But she was minimizing strings, already had bonded with too many to be comfortable.

Raine started walking through the flagstoned courtyard called Temple Ward to the keep where she wended her way through the building and the maze outside to the Landing Field. Blossom was waiting, a beautiful white volaran with big brown eyes and wings of subtle white shades. Gorgeous creature. As soon as she saw Raine, she trotted across the field, fully caparisoned in colorful tooled sky blue leather and gold thread. She wore a saddle for Raine’s benefit, but only had a hackamore around her nose for reins. Raine had been instructed in “volaran partnering” and gave Blossom most of her cues mentally or by shifting her body.

We go to Faucon’s? Blossom repeated as Raine mounted and they took to the sky, flying west.

Ayes.

Blossom lapsed into silence. Raine was glad that she was quiet because she wanted to enjoy the flight. As always her spirit soared riding on the winged horse. She inhaled deeply, the clean air of a land that knew no machines. Beneath her the landscape was one of green and rolling plains, a low ridge of hills that tugged at her heart. When she caught the distant scent of the ocean, her pulse picked up.

Since she’d been unconscious when she’d been brought from the coast to the Castle, all she’d seen were maps. The land was far more beautiful.

Blossom caught an updraft and rose higher, the sound of the wind swishing through her feathers a soft accompaniment to the rush of the air against them.

Distance Magic now?

Raine sighed. I wanted to see Alexa’s and Bastien’s estates.

We do Distance Magic for a little bit, then come out, look at their estates, Blossom said. Then do more to Creusse Crest.

Won’t that take more Power?

We have plenty of Power.

All right. Then Blossom drew on their combined Power, fumbled to merge it for the spell. A tweak, some disorientation and a clear bubble formed around them. Each beat of Blossom’s wings took them much farther, as if the magical bubble had no inertia and it zoomed through the atmosphere. Propelled by magic? Could a ship travel like that, too? Raine didn’t think so. Power would be a part of the energy source but it wouldn’t be Distance Magic that made a ship go. Sails couldn’t be used by people who couldn’t see or feel or scent the air. Fishing folk couldn’t have a bubble around them to haul in a catch.

Pop!

Alexa’s and Bastien’s estates.

They were side by side and looked comfortable and well-established. A volaran herd running free on Bastien’s land lifted their wings in salute.

They are old or tired or lost their riders, Blossom said, her voice laced with pity. She lifted her head, rose higher.

Blossom had lost her rider, too, but not from battle. One of the Summoned Exotiques had returned home, Blossom had been her volaran. Raine’s stomach sank. You know I don’t want to stay here in Lladrana.

You were treated bad. When you are treated good you will stay.

Raine winced. There was another pop as Blossom formed the Distance Magic bubble around them.

We will fly due west, then south, she said with a cheer that sounded a little false. Raine realized she’d poked a sore spot and shook her head. She was just getting her balance here, why did she have to make decisions right away? But what decision was there to make? Could she really see herself facing the Dark and fighting and staying here forever? No.

Blossom was flying due west to the coast because that was where the estate the Lladranans had offered Raine was. She’d seen drawings, and pictures from Bri’s camera, but not the place itself. She shouldn’t be curious.

And the island where the Exotique Circlet Marian lives is due west, too, Blossom reminded.

Raine gritted her teeth and called up a map in her mind. I think we need to angle south.

Faucon’s main estate is almost due south of your land.

It’s not my land.

A big beautiful seaside estate. Lots of room to fly and run, a nice stream, good stables for volarans and horses.

Raine had never been on the back of any sort of horselike creature until she’d met Blossom.

Big house for you, too. Bigger than where you live now. Blossom didn’t care for Raine’s house in the “city” of Castleton, there was no room for a volaran stable. From what Raine had seen in the pics, the place on the tiny peninsula was a small castle.

The world blurred outside the bubble, but Raine thought she smelled the ocean. Mixed emotions welled inside her. She loved the ocean, couldn’t imagine not living close to one, but her first months in Lladrana had been hideous.

Now she only had a few more, one way or another.

10

Singer’s Abbey

Jikata’s voice lesson with the Singer went well, they treated each other with exaggerated courtesy. Before actually doing the exercises, they did some body stretching. After the scales and range practice, the Singer spoke of Power, and spells initiated by sounds, notes, tunes, “songspells.” Jikata opened and shut windows and doors, locked them, released the locks. She learned various humming bits to Summon Friends.

The Singer watched with a careful eye as Jikata stirred water, lit a fire in a fireplace, made wind chimes tinkle and moved dirt in a planter. By the time she was done with the “simple” spells, Jikata was exhausted and would have smelled of sweat except her gown absorbed perspiration. Since the dress released an herbal scent, it was obvious how hard she worked.

The old woman, of course, demonstrated all the tasks serenely and with little effort.

Jikata ate lunch by herself, a light one of fruit and cheese and crackers with a hardboiled egg. Then came the baths, massage and rest. She could almost believe this was a resort—Club Lladrana, a retreat specifically for singers. She’d reluctantly decided differently, let the knowledge that she was in another place incrementally filter through her, and focused on the incredible instruction she’d been getting.

In the afternoon she went with the Singer to a suite of personal rooms above an octagonal tower. The old woman had several suites throughout the compound for various activities—or various levels of visitors. Certainly the Friends in different buildings were of different status.

“These are the rooms where I receive Marshalls who come for a Song Quest,” the Singer said. “I do not use them otherwise because they are very close to the Caverns of Prophecy. Listen and feel.”

Jikata recalled her Summoning, the caves, the sounds, the visions, and didn’t open herself up fully. She’d already learned how to tone down the soundtrack around her, hear selectively. It was a matter of control, like breath control. If she opened herself fully, she’d be overwhelmed by Song, especially in the Singer’s presence. She thought of her Power like the flame of a gas oven, opening a valve and giving the burner more energy.

So now she set her Power on low, listened.

Hollowness under her feet. She knew the sound of stone—worked and raw around her, beneath her. The different, deep chord of the planet itself. Only now, when she heard that strange Song, did she realize that she’d always heard a rhythmic beat quite different, that of Earth.

Whispers. Perhaps even hissing like gas. Dangerous if she were open and defenseless to it.

Jikata! Pay attention! It was the Singer’s voice, in her head. Jikata sucked in a breath. All right, she should have expected that people could speak telepathically, too.

“One moment!” She wouldn’t let the woman rattle her. She wasn’t a tyro in the music business.

But the Singer had that smug smile Jikata was beginning to intensely dislike. Eyes widening, Jikata realized the Singer had spoken to Jikata with her mind, while she’d answered aloud.

The Singer had spoken Lladranan.

Jikata had understood.

She was learning the language through Song and telepathy and hearing it spoken around her. She’d been a fairly quick study before, but nothing like this.

Letting her knees soften, becoming aware of her ki, she let Songs sift into her, or into her awareness and Power.

Her senses slipped down from this chamber to below to the Caverns.

Whispers coalesced into sound, into language—English. A vision formed.

She saw the man in white leather. They were walking along a sandy beach, surf foaming near their feet.

They were talking. No, they were flirting. Warmth tingled through her, then and now. A half smile curved his lips, lightening his serious expression and making him dangerously attractive. There was an easiness between them, as if they had a lot in common. His eyelids lowered over a very male glint, and he took her hand, raised it to his lips.

His mouth on the back of her hand sent frissons through her and she knew that this night they’d make love.

Then he froze, dropped her fingers, reared back, shock on his face.

Followed by utter revulsion. Pain. He shook his head, slapped his hands against his ears.

She stared at him in horror. Worse, she could feel tears backing up in her throat, rising, rising. She had to get away…. She stumbled, blinking frantically to keep tears back. Why hadn’t she learned a spellsong for that?