Keepers of the Flame

It was finally sinking in that she was a celebrity. How very odd. She’d been in places where her skin or face weren’t the same as most of the local population, and she’d earned respect from people, but nothing like this.

Mud landed softly in the beautifully landscaped backyard. Sevair lifted her down. This was her new home? Her nerves jangled. She’d never even thought of buying a house, let alone something as—substantial—as this one. It was a full three stories and of creamy-colored worked stone, like the limestone she’d seen in the English Cotswolds. Looking down the block, she saw a variety of styles, all melding into a harmonious whole. No doubt all belonging to upstanding and sober citizens.

She was in over her head. The soles of her feet prickled. “It’s…it’s lovely,” she forced out.

Sevair’s expression lightened. “All of the artisans of Castleton worked to provide the best for you.”

Uh-oh. Major expectations. She wet her lips. “Great.”

“I’ll show you the inside in a moment. Now, Mud…” Speaking slowly, with gestures and clear mind images, Sevair told Mud she could return to the Castle, or be stabled with other volarans in a different part of town.

Bri stroked Mud. “Thank you. I’m honored you’ll stay in town.” As soon as she patted the flying horse’s neck and stepped away, Mud took off. Bri watched the volaran, heart squeezing. Not a sight that she’d ever see on Earth.

Sevair cleared his throat. When she turned to him, he offered his arm. Bri hesitated, but curled her hand in the crook of his elbow. His muscle was like the stone he worked. He led her along meandering stepping stones to a back door that was fancy enough to be on the front of any house. Placing his hand on the knob, he hummed a few chords, and made Bri repeat them to unlock and lock the door.

They stepped into an impressive kitchen of pristine white tile, but he moved her through it quickly, hardly giving her time to look around. “We’ve arranged for all your meals to be delivered. You need only list what you want daily.”

“Um, merci.” Guess she wasn’t expected to learn magical cooking.

“We wish you to concentrate on your medica gifts.”

She’d always done that, but to hear it as a duty was a little off-putting.

The hallway was papered in pale lavender, with a faint pattern of darker-colored leaves and flower sprigs. His gaze lingered on the purple streaks in her hair that she’d begun to regret. “Purple is the traditional color for Exotiques.”

“Oh.”

“But Alyeka and Marian and Calli have not used the color much in their furnishings. So we, too, limited the use.” A small cough. “Except for one bedroom.” Again he glanced at her hair, “should you prefer it.”

He showed her the rest of the house. The luxury and space of it intimidated her with the expectations the citymasters had of her, the belief she’d stay in Lladrana. Each wooden panel and piece of furniture was carefully crafted of the best materials. A showplace. She didn’t know if she could live in a showplace, but to refuse and dent everyone’s pride was impossible.

The master bedroom was on the third floor, with a balcony over the square and a wide window to the north, showing the Castle. She had a prized corner lot. The guest bedroom was an explosion of purple. Someone had put it together with care, with various shades and rich textures, but her eyes watered just looking at it.

Sevair watched her closely. Not time to tell him that she and Elizabeth had finished their purple phase at seven years old. “It’s…interesting.”

He chuckled, relaxed. “Then we were correct in keeping to a more traditional decorating scheme for the master bedroom.”

“Ayes,” she said.

Harp strings came at her door. Bri blinked.

“The doorharp is bespelled so you can hear it anywhere,” Sevair said. He went to the bedside table and picked up something that looked like a real horn and spoke. “Who’s there?”

“Geraint.” Bri heard the answer.

Sevair said, “My assistant.” Then into the horn, “Ayes?”

“The other citymasters request that you accompany the farmer home after market.”

Eyebrows winging up, Sevair said, “Come in,” and set the horn down. He hummed the unlock spell on the front door. His expression had gone serious again. “We citymasters had intended a dinner in your honor this evening, then decided after you healed the child that you should rest. Will you be all right here on your own?”

Bri blinked at him. She’d traveled the world over and had been all right on her own. She’d been careful—mostly. “Ayes.”

A young man wearing gray walked toward them. He bowed.

“My assistant, Geraint, who attends to my office, will be available to you for anything.”

“Salutations,” Bri said.

Sevair turned to Geraint and spoke of reassuring the countryside that their concerns were not overlooked. Bri drifted toward the creamy-yellow painted bedroom. Cheerful and sunny, especially on this gray day, she liked it, though it was a trifle too fussy with lace.

Earlier she’d set down her pack on the desk. It looked totally out of place here. High-tech materials against silk and brocade and lace, gender-neutral in a very feminine room. The citymasters had obviously expected their Exotique to be female.

Again harp strings sounded. Bri looked around and found a shell-like horn on the bedside. She picked it up. “Who’s there?” That was what Sevair said.

“The tailor, my lady,” said a female voice.

“Is that the right greeting?” Bri asked. “Who’s there?”

A little cough on the other end of the horn. “Ayes.”

“Thank you,” Bri said. “The door is unlocked, please come in. I’ll meet you in the parlor.” There was a parlor.

She turned and found Sevair at the door, Geraint hovering behind him.

“Unless you want me to stay, I’ll leave now.” Sevair’s voice was matter-of-fact, but his gaze was warm with a touch of curiosity. When she listened, she thought the vibrations of his Song expressed interest—personal—in her.

He smiled. “Citymaster Nu will take care of you. She’s an excellent tailor and already has a wardrobe planned.”

Bri glanced around. “So all my needs will be provided by citymasters?” That didn’t come out the way she’d intended.

His gaze lingered on her face. “Ayes, anything you wish for will be provided.”

“Ah, how about lunch?” Her mind went back to the potato casserole and her mouth watered.

“Of course.” He looked at a water clock set on an beautifully sculpted table made especially for it, smiled again. “The clock is understandable and acceptable?”

“Ayes, we know that time passes the same here as at home. The clock is charming.” The rush of water soothed her.

“I’d heard that time is the same and so are clocks,” Sevair said. “And the table?”

The intensity of his glance clued her in. “You made it? It’s beautiful.” A short pillar with a delicate stone floral vine covering the underlying flutes. Bri thought she even saw a fairy face peeking out between leaves.

He nodded. “Thank you.”

She wondered how much more of his work she’d find in the house. Something to look for.

“As for lunch,” Sevair said, “it should have arrived and been placed in the kitchen for you. We have cold and hot boxes to keep the food at the proper temperature. The other Exotiques—all three of them—planned the menus.” Amusement laced his tones. “There was lively discussion.” He sobered again. “However, the tailor is here…”

She suppressed a sigh. The woman was probably a busy person and Bri was taking up time. “Yes. The tailor first. And I’m a little tired. I’ll rest.”

“Everything okay?” Alexa asked.

Elizabeth looked around. The extra bed and wardrobe had been removed, the furniture rearranged. Bri’s fragrance, more, her Song, still floated in the rooms, reaching Elizabeth’s heart. She’d only had the company of her sister for a few brief hours before they’d been separated again. Not their choice this time. Or perhaps it had been too easy to accommodate the wishes of the Lladranans and they should have thought more of themselves. But they hadn’t been given the time.

Going back out to the sitting room, Elizabeth checked the potatoes and went to the chest. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the clean empty serving bowl that had held the fruit salad. Her mother’s special-occasion china.

What would her parents think when they discovered their daughters were missing? Elizabeth’s car was in her allotted apartment parking spot, but…. She shut off that line of thinking. There was nothing she could do about it right now, and it would only muddle her thoughts when she needed all her wits to deal with the current situation.

Her mind went back to what Alexa had said before. Elizabeth asked, “Any idea what this item…the Dark wants…is? Is it physical?”

“No, we don’t know what it is. Yes, we know it’s physical. We think the Dark originally came to this planet through the dimensional corridor and landed in Lladrana, then left and settled in the north on its own cozy volcanic island. But it either lost this object or didn’t realize it needed it.”

“Hmm,” Elizabeth managed.

Alexa said, “So, the Dark wants this item, and we think it’s somehow sent this sickness as a plague to wipe the Lladranans out. The monsters haven’t been able to penetrate the northern border and take the thing. So killing us all with an epidemic might be an alterative plan.” Her steps slowed; she studied Elizabeth with cool eyes. “That’s your task, your’s and your sister’s. To find a cure for the plague.”

“Nothing like a little pressure,” Elizabeth said.

Alexa shrugged. “That’s life on Lladrana. You, what, just got certified as a medical doctor? Did internships and residency? That ain’t exactly a walk in the park.” She’d switched to English again, and Elizabeth’s head began to ache.

Elizabeth said in Lladranan, “No, my training to be an E.R. doctor wasn’t easy.” ‘Training” was a word she’d already learned. “But it was a long ordeal, now over.”

“Ah, and now I’m asking you to gird your loins for another long ordeal.”

“If most Exotiques fulfill their task within two months for the Snap, Bri and I can do it, too.” Elizabeth was feeling overwhelmed, but wouldn’t admit doubt to anyone other than Bri.

Blinking, Alexa said, “Fulfilled their task in two months?”

“You said that the Snap averages two months, and one of the prerequisites for the Snap is the fulfillment of a task.”

“Excellent deduction.” Faucon, the elegant Chevalier said from the door. He looked around. “All is as it should be.”

“You did your task in two months,” Elizabeth said.

Alexa pinkened. “A little over.”

“Marian succeeded in a month,” Faucon said, and grunted when Alexa elbowed him. “And Calli—”

“Calli decided early on to stay in Lladrana,” Alexa said.

“Bri and I will work hard on our task,” Elizabeth said. “But we want to return home. We have our parents to consider. They’ll worry.” She lifted her chin. “Imagine how you’d feel if your children disappeared.”

Scowling, Alexa said, “We understand that.”

“Good. Understand that our food and our belongings are ours.”

“Fine, fine.” Alexa waved a hand.

“Promise.”

“I promise,” Alexa ground out between her teeth.

“You seem to be giving us a list of rules and requirements. I’m just returning the favor,” Elizabeth said, and the phrase sounded fine in Lladranan.

Faucon indicated the potatoes. “I can arrange for a cold storage box to be put in your dining area,” he said smoothly.

“Aren’t those expensive?” Alexa grumbled.

Faucon just kept smiling.

“Right, with you, zhiv—money—is no problem,” Alexa answered herself.

“I’d like the cold box,” Elizabeth said. She sent a look to Alexa. “You were all very free with your bribes to keep us here this morning.”

Alexa’s chin came up. She touched her baton. “Exotiques who stay get an estate and a lifetime salary. That’s the deal. The citymasters have a house for you in Castleton, but if you both stay you can have what you want, where you want.”

“We won’t be staying.”

“I’ll let you get settled,” Alexa said. Her eyes softened. “Despite all its dangers, Lladrana can be a wonderful home.”

“I’m sure,” Elizabeth murmured.

Alexa dug into a pocket and came out with a small crystal sphere. “Almost forgot, this is for you. Communication to any of us, though, um, we may develop a telepathic link as we go along.”

Elizabeth took it. Even as she watched the crystal clouded. She hurriedly placed it on the sideboard.

“We also have an internal communication system.” Alexa picked up a cow’s horn. “Magic—or rather Power. It doesn’t use much energy. Feel free to call.” She walked to the door.

“Thank you.” Elizabeth’s mouth dried. Soon she’d be alone. She should cherish the time alone, as she’d learned to do during her medical training back home. But this wasn’t home.

From the doorway, Alexa said to Faucon, “Aren’t you coming?”

“In a moment.”

She snorted again and disappeared into the hallway.

Elizabeth met Faucon’s warm, dark chocolate-brown eyes.

“You will have the cold-storage box within the hour.” He hesitated, came up to her and took her limp hand. Only when she felt the warmth of his fingers did she realize how cold her own were, though the room was nearly hot.

He squeezed her hand. “Please, call on me if you have any other wishes you want fulfilled. I would be your friend.”

From the lilt of sensual Song coming from him, Elizabeth was sure he wanted more. As she gazed at his elegant features, her pulse picked up, surprising her.

Keeping his eyes on her, he kissed her hand, let it go. “Until later.”

“Later,” Elizabeth whispered.

He went out the door and closed it behind him.

Elizabeth stared at the strange room, full of beautiful furniture, the window showing a landscape of gray and green rolling hills. No mountains. No plains.

The white chest from a place a world away.

She found herself on a new segment of her life, and not the new segment she had planned.

And a new man?

12

Elizabeth spent her afternoon studying in-depth with the medicas, especially the non-invasive healing of muscle and bone. As predicted—or perhaps dreaded—a Chevalier fighting pair had arrived in bad shape.

Calli and the Marshalls took care of the volarans’ injuries since the medicas wanted to teach Elizabeth.

The Marshalls’ healing circle was more like calling down a blessing, or general healing, not detailed work with the chakras—God help her!—or individual systems of anatomy. The medicas could do this, too, and had participated in such circles to use the Marshalls’ incredible strength and teamwork. But individually and in pairs and triads, the medicas were more specialized, drawing on what Bri called the healingstream and performing with their minds and magic what surgical teams would do with hands and tools.

Incidentally, Elizabeth learned other things. The Chevaliers she worked on were an independent pair, which meant that they were poor and didn’t fly under anyone’s banner, like Faucon’s people. The image of that man distracted her for a moment, and she had to ask for elucidation of the lesson. The medicas were waiving their fee because they were teaching her.

The Chevaliers were pairbonded which meant marriage, and no stigma attached to homosexuality in this culture, a very good thing.

And the wounds were fearsome.

Elizabeth had never seen anything like them and had to keep her breathing, her emotions detached, her mind focused so she wouldn’t vomit.

She learned from the medicas which “horrors” perpetrated each wound. Apparently the Chevaliers had been unlucky enough to run into a combination of all three major horrors.

The long, deep and razor-thin slices were from “renders.” The easiest to mend with Power. “Slayers” had duller claws but poisonous spines. Elizabeth helped flush the poison from the Chevalier’s system, through the skin pores, which was gross enough to remind her of her beginning days of med school. Little round bumps left from “soul-suckers” showed a deadening of the skin around the wounds. Physical life force had been drawn from that injury.

What was even more incredible to Elizabeth was that sometimes the Chevaliers wouldn’t get help if they felt the wounds weren’t severe enough.

Any wound was dangerous in Elizabeth’s mind. The Lladranans had a different point of view. A very, very tough people.

A people who’d been at war for a long time.

Bri woke from her nap feeling restless. She tried to reach Elizabeth telepathically and was reassured when she touched her twin’s sleeping mind. They’d be able to communicate mentally, then. She wandered through the rooms, feeling like the greatest fraud. This wasn’t her; usually she shared small rooms with other women of her ilk. What would she do if she were in a new place on Earth? She’d go out. Even if she was unsure of the language, she’d unpack then hit the streets. Something was always going on outside if she didn’t want to stay in.

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