Echoes in the Dark (30 page)

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Authors: Robin D. Owens

BOOK: Echoes in the Dark
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“Proceed,
Jikata,” the Singer ordered and Jikata looked down to see the limp thread on
her palm, looking more like embroidery floss than a spell.

By
the time she was done she had a pattern of green swirls on her face that
smelled of mint, scarlet spirals on her palms, and a dark blue eye on her
forehead. All were gently settling into her skin until she hummed with Power.
She thought they’d only last a couple of hours, but as long as they did, she
had more energy…and was sensitized to an extreme degree that she could hear the
soft breaths of the Singer.

“That
is sufficient for this morning,” the Singer said with her usual smug amusement.
She gestured and a Friend folded the top of the tray holding knots in half to
make a hinged case. “When you feel steadier, you can practice on those. They
will release light and other small spells. If you practice in your own rooms no
harm should come to you or anything else.”

The
Friend with the case took Jikata’s arm, then hopped back as static electricity
arced. Or maybe it wasn’t static electricity, maybe Jikata herself was giving
off sparks. She nodded to the Singer. “I’ll practice.” Then she left, with the
Friend following.

Waves
of music enveloped her, from the blades of grass, tiny flowers she hadn’t noted
much before, even sunshine. The soundtrack of her life increased. When she met
other Friends on the path, their greetings sounded shouted.

Fabulous
spell, but once was enough. Perhaps she should have started with the simpler
knot, but that would have meant giving in to the Singer’s subtle dominance.
This way was better.

It
took Jikata the rest of the day to finish untying the knots, but it was
practice well spent.

Each
morning thereafter she practiced on knots in the domed chamber. It should have
been boring, but instead was engrossing. Jikata had never seen such knots, some
ugly and functional of twine or rope—the untying of which would lead to
muscular cleaning and landscaping spells.

Some
knots were beautifully ornamental, loops and twists. These were the most
challenging because with these, rhythm and volume and beat mattered. One wrong
note and she’d have a knot burn on her hand, or could trigger a nasty green
vapor that brought her to her knees and kept her nauseous for the rest of the
day. Knots could Summon Chasonette, or Friends. Knots could make meals appear.

Jikata
got the impression that they were an old magic, not much used, and had fallen
out of favor. She believed it was because they were so touchy, the Singer had
to be perfect.

To
her own surprise, mostly she was. By the end of that week she could untie
simple knots she’d never seen before, sense the pattern from the strands.

Sometimes,
in the afternoons, they went to the Caverns of Prophecy and worked with the
knots there…with odd results. Once Jikata saw horrible little
things
falling in a rain, once a Chevalier dying in a battle, eviscerated by a swipe
of a black-furred monster’s wicked claws.

Since
the Singer insisted Jikata tell her every detail, each session was more
exhausting. But when she learned she’d saved the Chevalier’s life—he’d had an
emblem on his shield—it was truly worth it. That one act made her whole time
here on Lladrana, in the Singer’s Abbey, worthwhile.

One
evening the monthly prophecy for Lladrana was scheduled in the crystal chamber.
This was one of the Singer’s main duties and had been for time out of mind. It
was one of these prophecies that had convinced the Marshalls to begin the
Summoning process two years ago.

Beforehand,
Jikata had been led to the outer room of the Singer’s suite, but she could
still feel the buzz of people’s Songs from the room next door,
hear
a
conversation.

“…not
ready for at least a month,” the Singer was saying. The door opened and Jikata
saw a group of people who appeared dressed in their best clothes…and Luthan.
Jikata’s heart bumped a little when she saw the man in white leather. He was
much more handsome, his Song more potent, than she’d recalled. She smiled at him,
opened her mouth to greet him, and her arm was clamped by the Singer’s boney
fingers.

“You
can see she is well,” the Singer said. “Now we must go. Moonrise is soon, the
time for the prophecy. Jikata
must
learn this Song.” She pulled at
Jikata and the sheer Power of the woman lifted her off her feet and moved her.

“Salutations,
Jikata.” Luthan bowed.

His
greeting was echoed by others, then a florid man waved at them as he rose from
his bow. “And she will need to learn the Equinox Prophecy Song later this
month,” he said in a native accent Jikata hadn’t heard before. He shifted his
gaze to Jikata, with an approving yet calculating gaze. “A beautiful woman for
our thousandth Singer. Unmarried…”

“Salutations,”
Jikata said in her smokiest voice.

Everyone
stared at her and she donned her performance manner. She hadn’t decided her
course of action before the Singer and hefty Friends hustled her away with
mutters about Krache men.

Down
in the prophecy chamber the Singer became all sharp business and Jikata had learned
to be wary of this mood.

A
map spread before them, and though she’d seen one in Alexa’s book, and in the
beginning of Marian’s, this map throbbed with color and action. Cascading notes
became chords, transformed into melodies, then rushed through her like
wildfire, flickering visions. Deep rolls of ocean waves; cheering as volarans
and fliers dipped and whirled in aerial acrobatics; the glint of the sun on
what looked like reflective sails of a ship; Luthan and a road through arching
green branches—those were the flashing images. To her nose came a fragrance of
summer and growing things, flowers, then the ocean.

The
Singer wound down the spell serenely. The Power and connection with the music
of the spheres had worked on her as well as Jikata. Jikata’s ears rang and the
Song settled in her blood and she knew she could Sing that spell in the
future—any of the great spells, of Equinox or Solstice. It seemed like a gift
that the Singer had given her, but Jikata didn’t know why…until they were
outside the door of the room and she was Singing it shut and locked.

Turning
to her with fiercely bright eyes, the Singer said, “You are the only person who
can open this door. When I die, there will be no other unless you train them.”
Then she turned and whisked away, leaving Jikata standing in shock that was a
mixture of pleasure and terror.

Marshalls’ Castle

A
s the second
week ended without Faucon, Raine found herself wanting to be back at the
Marshalls’ Castle. It wasn’t only because of Faucon, but because she’d bonded
with the other women and heard their Songs in the back of her mind…and she
thought they heard her Song. More than once in the past couple of weeks she’d
felt their thoughts touch hers—usually during that time of serenity when she
was sailing, and she believed they took some of that peace into their busy
lives.

Great
things were happening at the Marshalls’ Castle and Blossom and Enerin wanted to
return, though they hadn’t actually said so. Blossom was fretting about the
other volarans who were testing to go on the invasion. Status in the herd was
changing daily and she wasn’t there to assert her presence.

Enerin’s
parents were doing all sorts of feycoocu business, mostly at the Castle,
sometimes showing up at the shore and whisking the little one away. Raine
believed the magical beings were keeping their words not to manipulate the
Exotiques, but she sensed they were trying to manipulate other events.

On
the second to the last day of testing, Raine left Creusse Crest after breakfast
for the Marshalls’ Castle, Blossom handled the Distance Magic and Enerin
matched their flight as a baby warhawk that made Raine ache inside.

Because
of the trials, they couldn’t descend to the Landing Field, or even inside the
Castle itself, so they landed just outside the front gate. The guards there
bowed lower and had more respect in their eyes for her, as well as a wink. They
knew she’d been attending to her task. Raine also reckoned she was carrying
herself better, had lost the last little cringe of the lowly potgirl.

Before
Raine and Enerin and Blossom had even exited the long passage through the main
gate, Calli was running to welcome her. The Volaran Exotique enveloped Raine in
a hug that smelled of the animals—rich, crumbling amber. A beautiful scent.

“Come
on,” Calli said, “you’re just in time for the start of the trials today.” She
grinned and Raine noticed that the sun had lightened streaks of her hair. She
was beautiful.

And
Raine was blessed to have such good friends. She linked arms with her. “All the
others are there, of course.”

“Sure,”
Calli said. “It’s the best entertainment there is, a mixture of circus and wild
west show, and rodeo, and…and…”

“I
get it,” Raine laughed and kept up the fast pace.

“You
have your own seat, of course, with the rest of us, in the Exotique stands.”
Calli flashed a grin. “They play to us. Well, to me and Alexa anyway.”

Enerin
squawked.
I want to see!
She zoomed away.

Calli
laughed. “Her parents are there, perched on the rail of our box as hawks,
preening.”

As
they entered the stable area, Blossom trotted away to be groomed.
Later,
the volaran said to Raine,
There is much gossip to hear.
Her rump
wiggled and she lifted her wings and settled them in anticipation.

Then
Raine and Calli were through the stables and onto the Landing Field, where
bleachers had been erected around the edges. It was packed. Raine’s nose
twitched. She halted to sniff, but Calli dragged her on.

“Wait.
Popcorn? Do I smell
popcorn?
” Raine asked.

“Bri
discovered it growing outside Castleton. I don’t know how she knew it was
popcorn, but it’s a new favorite. We have some for you.”

Raine’s
mouth watered. “Oh.” She was suddenly swamped with feeling for this place. It
wasn’t Earth, it wasn’t home, but it, too, was beautiful.

Especially
the people. Faucon came into sight, running.

22

“I
don’t know how
I spent the nights without you,” Faucon said and hauled her up. As he touched
her, their connection throbbed with music she thought the whole Castle could
hear. Then he put her down and kissed her soundly.
Raine.
His whisper
was in her mind and she knew she’d missed the closeness of it, his touch.

Breathless,
she said, “I don’t know, either.”

“Come
on!
” Bri was there sharing a smile with Calli. “Sex later, trials
now.
They’re holding up the start for you.”

“What?”
Raine asked, dizzy from the hormones surging through her. She wanted a dim room
with Faucon, not this bright carnival atmosphere of hundreds of people looking
at her, them.

But
Faucon had twined fingers and was tugging her along in Calli’s and Bri’s wake.
He grinned, too. His smile made her heart flop around in her chest. “I matched
the best score—Luthan and Mace and his Shield and I. All at the top.”

Raine
bumped her hip against him, teasing, just before they took the first step up
the stands to a canopied box. “I expected no less.”

His
hand went from her fingers to around her waist, the touch more intimate and
also to steady her if she missed a step. Courteous, protective. More churning
inside her. She wanted this man. He had every quality she’d ever admired.

They
entered the box where Alexa was nearly bouncing up and down on a trio of
blue-green velvet pillows. “What
took
you so long, Raine?” Then she
winked at Faucon. “Oh.”

Before
Raine could answer, trumpets sounded and the Marshall Loremaster announced,
“The trials will now begin. Will those in group number twenty-two take their
marks.”

Raine
sank into her seat on an emerald-colored velvet pillow and looked around. All
the Exotiques and their men were there, the feycoocus were clustered at the
corner of the box, claws curled around the rail. The stand was placed in one of
the long sides of the irregular rectangle. To her left were the stables, to her
right the maze, and before her was the width of the Landing Field. Beyond that
the Castle wall and the cliff. No sound of surf here, but the laughter and
hustle of energetic people who had rising expectations of a show. No scent of
the beach…“Give me some popcorn!” she demanded.

Faucon
passed her a warm pottery bowl and the siren sounded and six volarans rose
gracefully into the air, two pair of Chevaliers and one set of young Marshalls.
The sight caught her breath.

“Go!”
shouted the Loremaster and they swooped around the field, racing.

Faucon
slipped his arm around her and reached into her bowl and their hands brushed as
they grabbed popcorn. He smiled down at her and life became a gilded bubble of
perfection.

 

T
hat night Raine
was one of the few to take part in a “parenties ceremony.” It was a godparents
bonding thing for Calli’s children. The little girl and older boy already had
godparents—Marian and Jaquar—but those two were part of the invasion force. The
new godparents were the chief Marshalls who’d stay behind, young Pascal and
Marwey.

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