Keepers of the Flame (25 page)

She
gestured around them. “Face it, we don’t belong here. My sister Elizabeth,
maybe, but not us.”

Frowning,
he said, “Those medicas at the Castle will never let her go. She should be down
here, like you.” He glanced at the kitchen. “And there’s the food.”

“Wherever
I go, they will feed me.”

He
perked up. “That’s right. They want you to concentrate on the frink plague.
Always knew those things would be trouble.”

“You
and Sevair Masif.”

“A
good boy. Trifle stiff, but a good Citymaster.” Zeres scratched his cheek.
“Pity about the betrayal of his man. Nasty situation, him being the new servant
of the Dark and the Master of the horrors. Been a year, probably not much human
left.”

Bri
stood. “Do people blame Sevair?” She took her dishes into the kitchen and put
them in the sink, saw no soap or dishcloth to clean them, so she rinsed them
off and let them stay, unhappy at leaving them dirty.

Zeres
followed her. “No, folk don’t, none of the gossip I heard. They admire him,
know he took the defection hard. The Marshalls spread it around that the whole
mess coulda been worse. The traitor’s a less effective Master than that one the
Volaran Exotique defeated last year. Philosophical about it.”

“Huh.”
She really
did
need to read those Lorebooks. She shrugged, and the
gesture made her think of her backpack. She wanted it while she explored the
town this evening, followed the call, soothed her itchy feet.

Zeres
set his dishes in the sink and walked away. Sighing, Bri rinsed them, too,
called, “Just a couple of minutes and we’ll go find our place.”

E
lizabeth kept
busy with training sessions and when the Circlets didn’t communicate by crystal
ball about her parents, her chest constricted.

Finally
she went to her suite, and skipping Alexa’s Lorebook, she started reading
Marian’s. Elizabeth wanted information and fast. She found out Marian had
created the best globe of Earth the Lladranans had, and wondered how well the
woman had delineated the Hawaiian Islands. Though Marian hadn’t seemed to think
finding the twins’ parents would be a problem, the Lorebook didn’t sound as if
it was easy.

On
this discomfiting thought, Elizabeth fell asleep and woke as evening fell,
stiff from sleeping at her desk. But she was used to grabbing sleep where and
when she could and had slept sitting up more than once. The first thing she did
was check the crystal ball on the table. It was clear. No calls.

For
a while she just wanted to hide, but she was hungry, so she tidied herself and
left the suite, descending the stairs.

Remembering
the scene with the Circlets revived a bruising ache inside her. Despite all the
interesting things she’d been learning, the igniting of her gift from a match
to a torch, this wasn’t her place, wasn’t a vacation between her residency and
practicing medicine as an emergency room physician. For an instant she wondered
what Cassidy would think of the whole situation. If she’d still been engaged to
him would she have been Summoned?

So
far in the past, two days ago and another life. Life would never be the same
for either her or Bri.

A
man pushed away from where he’d stood in the shadows at the bottom of the
stairs. Her hand went to her throat.

“My
apologies.” Faucon Creusse, the startlingly attractive man who was
instinctively drawn to Earth women, swept her a bow.

She
found herself curtseying, though she’d only done that in occasional school
plays.

He
stepped up to her. “I would never have startled you.”

“Why
are you here?”

20

F
aucon’s brow
furrowed, then he smiled wryly. “I think I sensed your distress. No one would
stop any Chevalier from guarding any Exotique.” He held out a hand.

After
a moment, she put her fingers in his, and his bright aura flared to her other
sight, even as his Song met hers, clashed, wove with hers.

“Ayes,”
he said and lifted her fingers to his lips. “This is good, the Song blesses
us.”

Elizabeth
took a step back, drawing her hand from his. She’d liked the little sensual
shiver as his mouth had pressed against the back of her hand, but was wary of
it, too.

“Please
dine with me in my suite,” he said.

“I
don’t think—”

“I
assure you the food will be much better than what you will receive even in the
Marshalls’ Dining room.”

She
believed that. “Thank you for your offer.” She hesitated. “Perhaps another
time.”

“Then
may I escort you to the Marshalls’ Dining Room?”

Cocking
her head, she said, “Are you allowed in?”

He
smiled and her pulse quickened. “Of course. I’m richer and of a higher social
status and have larger estates than many of the Marshalls. They don’t want to
irritate me.”

“Ah,
I’d anticipated a discussion with the Exotiques—”

“Calli
is dining with her family. Alexa and Bastien have already supped. But I have
spent much time with each Exotique and would be happy to answer any questions,
tell stories.” He took her hand and tucked it in his arm and led the way down
the hall.

Elizabeth
said nothing more as they made the long walk to the Marshalls’ Dining Room, but
she watched his aura from the corner of her eye and listened to the faint
melody of his Song. She was very aware of him, his hand covering hers on his
arm, the easy muscularity of his body. She was very aware of his effect on her,
the heating of her blood.

She
stepped away outside the door. “You’re here because of your attraction.”

“Certainly.”
He spread his hands. “Behold a poor moth dazzled by flame.”

That
made her smile. He was handsome, charming, sexy, and in excellent physical
condition. Despite his instinctive desire for Exotiques, she didn’t think he
was a man who lacked control.

“All
right,” she said. “So you’re here at the Castle with me because I’m accessible,
as opposed to courting Bri in Castleton.” She bit her lip as she speculated on
the depth of his liking. She didn’t bother to hide her doubt. The man was easy
enough in her company that she felt she could be herself. No masks. She wasn’t
sure how long it had been since she’d lived without a mask. Only those close to
her saw her without one, her parents, Bri, Cassidy—

This
man was nothing like Cassidy—charming instead of intense.

Faucon
chuckled, took one of her hands and squeezed it. “Your sister is very
attractive to me, too, but I think I prefer the less—unpredictable.”

“Hmm.”

He
opened the door. “Superficial attraction can diminish or change.”

She
noticed his qualification.

Bending,
he whispered in her ear, “I’ve made a study of the Exotiques. But nothing
in-depth. Yet.”

She
shivered at the note in his voice, looked at him through her lashes.

The
Castle battle alarm sounded. His jaw set. He whipped her behind him, held the
door wider for the Marshalls bolting from the dining room. Elizabeth ran
downstairs with him. She could have escaped his tight grip, but her heart was
in her throat and she wanted to see the mobilization.

He
went to the courtyard instead of the Landing Field, dropped her hand, whistled
high and long. Elizabeth flinched. His bow was brief, his mind already winging
to other things—to battle, no doubt. Her nerves jittered.

“I’m
on rotation,” he said.

His
volaran, large and gleaming, landed in Temple Ward, and suddenly a man and a
woman in squire uniforms were before him. One helped him into his armor,
buckled on his sword. The other checked the volaran’s tack. A group of eight
other hastily armored Chevaliers wearing Faucon’s colors of red and orange
hovered near. He scanned them, nodded.

“All
here!” he called. “Go to the Landing Field, mount up, follow me. I will claim
no portion of your kills.” He swung onto his volaran, dipped his head at
Elizabeth and his expression softened, his mouth quirked. “Would you join me
for breakfast tomorrow?”

She
knew night battles were rare, but didn’t know how long any battle lasted,
whether this was a small or large invasion. She didn’t anticipate sleeping, but
waiting, and studying the Lorebooks.

Everything
was real.

Keeping
her gaze steady on his own, she said, “What about a very late dinner?”

A
grin that would melt any woman’s heart slashed across his face. “Done!” He
waved at the female squire. “Tell my major domo. Neither of you are on rotation
tonight.”

“Yes,
Hauteur.” She ran across the courtyard to the Noble Apartments.

Faucon
reached down and skimmed a thumb across Elizabeth’s cheek. “I’ll see you
later.” He made it intimate, though the ward around them boiled with others
readying and flying to fight. She could hear the commotion from the Landing
Field beyond. Then he drew on his helmet, secured it, and pulled on thin gloves
that Elizabeth hadn’t noticed folded over his belt.

“Dreeth
skin, very tough,” he said. “Good evening, Elizabeth.”

She
swallowed hard and repeated words she heard echoing around the Castle. “Good
hunting.”

He
nodded and with a muttered word he and his volaran lifted into the sky.
Elizabeth watched them fly away north. Then her eye was caught by movement in a
lit third-story bow window of the Noble Apartments. Faucon’s female squire and
another man watched, too. The man’s aura flashed with worry and fear; she
sensed he wanted to fly with Faucon. The major domo caught sight of her and
bowed, then turned away, giving orders. To prepare a wonderful dinner for her
and a man who might not return.

B
ri had intended
to stroll the streets of Castleton to see more of the small city and find the
place that called to her. Zeres had a different idea. When he pulled her into
the nearest neighborhood tavern, as tidy as the too-groomed square, she knew
he’d discovered there was no liquor in the house. She was dealing with a real
alcoholic. As she watched him gulp down an ale then fill up his bota bag, after
telling the barkeep to charge it to “the Exotique Medica’s account,” she
considered whether she could clear that sickness from him. She’d handled plenty
of hangovers, her own included. She’d used the healingstream on people who’d
liquored themselves up to take away the pain of injury—and dealt with both the
alcohol poisoning and wound.

He
shoved away from the bar. “Whatcha lookin’ at, little girl?”

“Call
me Bri.” She opened the door and went out into the last, lingering light of the
day before the sun disappeared below the town walls. “Do you know that liquor
affects your brain, killing cells?” The word “cell” came out as “note.”

Zeres
grunted. Bri danced ahead of him, wrinkling her nose. “You smell again.”

He
shrugged a shoulder.

“I
could probably cure you of this sickness.”

“It
ain’t a sickness, it’s a choice,” he said roughly.

“My
world doesn’t entirely believe that. It’s a sickness and a choice. But I can’t
help if you don’t want to change.”

His
eyes were stark and burning. “There is an underlying cause. If you can’t help
with that engulfing night and flashing death I feel every time I heal—” He
opened his bota and swigged. She continued to stare at him as he stoppered the
bota.

“Yes,
I can and will. You were dramatic this morning for the medicas, but Elizabeth
and I heal those with this frink sickness as well. Work with us, you won’t be
alone.”

Grunting,
he followed her down a narrower, older, more charming side street. “Untrue.”

“What?”

Another
hunch of the shoulder. “Castleton ain’t the only city to have the sickness. All
the other towns do too, prob’ly more of the outlying countryside, and the noble
estates.” He pointed at her. “Mark my words, you and your sister will be out
making the rounds. Until we figure out why you can heal and no one else can.”

“Except
you. Well, I’ll help you discover what that darkness and flashes are—that which
let
you
heal, too. When you know what it is, it will be easier to
accept.” She turned another corner where the street became more cobblestone and
less large paved stones, and she heard him drink again. He didn’t answer so she
pressed on, “I connect with what I call a healingstream. It can be wonderful
and is very strong here, much stronger than on…Exotique Terre, but it, in
itself, doesn’t frighten me. I can help you with that.” She glanced back over
her shoulder and saw his scowl as he returned the bota to his hip. “And the
drink.”

He
opened his mouth, shut it, his face hardened. “I want my old life back, when I
was a respected medica.”

Bri
smiled. “Then we’ll get it back for you. You’ll be the hero of this age.”

“You
and your twin will be the heroes.”