Keepers of the Flame (26 page)

Her
smile disappeared.

“You
truly aren’t going to stay are you?” Zeres said.

She
shook her head. “No. Neither of us will.”

He
gestured as they turned once more. “Even though we are going to a place that
calls to you.”

Her
turn to shrug. “Places have called to me before. They aren’t home.”

The
Castle claxon rang and everyone on the street stopped and looked up to the
hill—volarans were already rising into the sky with armed riders. Bri
shuddered. “No, this is
not
home.”

E
lizabeth
returned to the Marshalls’ Dining Room to pick up a plate of bread and some
cheeses to assuage her hunger while she waited. The keep seemed empty and
echoing. A third of the Marshall pairs had left the day before for northern
frinkweed duty, now a third had gone fighting. Though the floors and walls of
her tower were solid, she’d gotten used to sensing the faint Songs—life forces—of
Alexa and Bastien and missed them. They, too, were off to battle.

So
she read Alexa’s adventures, and had to put the last of her food aside when she
reached three-dimensional images of the horrors. Elizabeth had heard of the
trophies in the Nom de Nom, and of the Assayer’s Office here in the keep where
independent Chevaliers were paid for their kills. But she hadn’t actually
seen
them, and she was a visual person.

Alexa’s
book detailed them in all their dangerous hideousness. For a few minutes
Elizabeth thought of going to the Assayer’s Office. It would be open since a
battle was being fought. Or head down to the Nom de Nom tavern in town to
examine the real things. Instead she found herself drifting across the
courtyard to the Map Room that would show the progress of the battle. Alexa’s
book had several pictures of the Map Room, too, as well as a map of the Castle
and Lladrana.

She
joined others, most of the older, original Marshalls, and saw the blue fire
marking the border and gaping holes.

“The
incursion isn’t bad,” said the rich voice of a man, Lady Knight Swordmarshall
Thealia’s husband.

She
frowned. She knew that voice. “You were the primary voice in the chants Bri and
I heard on Exotique Terre.”

His
round face lightened, he bowed. “Guilty.”

There
was an exclamation and they turned back to the huge map. “Three Chevaliers
dead.”

She
gasped, but forced words out. “Faucon Cruess?”

“No
nobles, no pairs, three independents, poor souls,” Thealia’s husband said.

Elizabeth
glanced around. “Calli?” Her voice rose. She strode to the top of the map, saw
little shield icons. The largest red-orange one was Faucon, the two blue-green
ones Alexa and Bastien. Elizabeth didn’t know Calli’s colors.

The
Marshall’s hand came onto her shoulder, squeezed, massaged. “Calli and Marrec
have a family. They won’t be fighting until the last battle. She isn’t here
because their children get restless when an alarm sounds.”

Anyone
would get restless.

There
was a slight cheer. “Four more fenceposts!”

Someone
said, “More horrors to the east, we’re moving.”

“It’s
going to be a long night,” said the Marshall.

N
ight fell and
Bri and Zeres were still walking. Now and then Bri’s feet would tingle, but it
wasn’t
the
place. She was distracted by all the Songs: Zeres’s,
families’ in the well-lit houses, people in taverns, even the river running
through the town, the trees and the parks. Maybe even the stone city walls that
they drew closer to.

They
weren’t exactly walking, more like staggering. Zeres had continued to guzzle
liquor, and Bri refused to leave him. She didn’t think being on her own again
at night was wise. Even drunk, Zeres was formidable.

Nor
did she think the Citymasters would be pleased if she was alone. They’d met up
with Sevair Masif and other guild people soon after the alarm rang. Checking up
on her. One of the men had bowed and bowed and offered a dagger, a beautiful
leather sheath and belt. Bri hadn’t felt comfortable refusing though she’d
never used a knife as a weapon in her life. Both the head of the smith guild
and the leather workers had beamed at her acceptance of the gift, so someone
had been pleased.

She
and Sevair had conducted a short, polite conversation, and he’d taken her hand
in a formal kiss-the-fingers-goodbye. She’d gotten the idea that he was committing
her Song or scent or something to memory so he could track her.

So
now she was weaving from Zeres’s weight through a mist that had floated in,
making the city eerie, coating the streets and buildings with moisture. She
shouldn’t have been able to support him more than a step or two. She was awed
that she was using
magic
in such a concrete way, to hold someone up and
walk.

She’d
taken care to keep a telepathic line open to Elizabeth, had felt brushes of her
twin’s mind. Elizabeth was concentrating, nervy, as she awaited battle results.
Bri was glad she was in the city; she’d go up when the wounded came in, hoped
she’d have enough energy to heal the sick later. She had a deep conviction
Alexa would be all right, whatever happened to her, something in Alexa’s Song,
a determination to triumph.

Elizabeth
had also been a bit surprised to feel secondhand Bri’s itchy feet.

She’d
once sought to understand why places called to her. Reincarnation? Sacred
spots? Some hadn’t been so very sacred…the hill in Prague, the clearing in
Arkansas, that ancient caravansary in Turkey….

As
always, she went with instinct. Elizabeth may have been learning a new
vocabulary to explain their healing hands logically, but Bri
sensed
the
best way to function here was on instinct. Her gut wouldn’t steer her wrong.

The
streets had quieted as the mist sent people to home or inns. Zeres hiccupped
and snored in her ear. She wondered that he could walk, looked down to see that
his feet weren’t touching the ground.

She
lost it. Whatever belief that had kept him upright and moving with her. He
slipped into a loose, untidy heap at her feet, and the snoring rose.

But
she was here, in a small cul de sac, facing north, in the oldest part of the
town. Blinking, she understood that the wall to her left wasn’t brick, but huge
stones set together, the
west
city wall. Not crumbling, of course, but
certainly aged.

In
front of her was the projection of a tower built into the wall. The building
had an additional small octagonal tower to the right that she recognized housed
a staircase. She could barely see the crenellated top rising one more story
above the rest of the building. The left side of the place was part of the city
wall.

She
liked the idea of living in a tower abutting the city wall. How cool was that?
Able to look out on…well, whatever the view was. Green fields.

There
was also some symmetry. She wriggled her shoulders to ease them from the weight
of carrying Zeres. Elizabeth and Alexa lived in a tower that was part of the
Castle keep, the western wall of the Castle. Not due north, more east. Bri
checked her twin and found Elizabeth’s mind slow, still anxious. Squinting, Bri
saw
the twin bond that linked them, unrolling at a good steep angle
upward and to the east.

The
mist coalesced into the patter of rain. Zeres’s snores cut off. He gobbled,
blinked bleary eyes. “Gonna just let me lie here in the rain?
Merde,
students these days….” He hefted himself and stumbled toward the tower’s door.
He set his shoulder against it. It gave in and went down.

Zeres
yelled. Darkness billowed from the tower. “Wha’s this?” Another grunt, this one
of surprise or pain. Bri ran, saw him slide down the angled wall of the
staircase tower that he’d staggered against. She jumped toward him, fumbled
under his cloak to feel his heart. Strong and steady.

She
didn’t think she’d be moving him anytime soon. When she stood, her hand went to
her new dagger. She pulled it from the sheath. No light gleamed on its blade.
The dim light of the street globe half a block down wasn’t enough to show the
dimensions of the room. Rain splatted hard behind her.

There
was…an odor. She sniffed. A powdery dryness coating her nostrils, an underlying
hint of…damp feathers? Volaran, or volaran kin? She strained all her senses. No
evil like the small motes that still surrounded the trophies hanging on the
wall of the Nom de Nom.

Slowly
she sheathed the knife. Rolled her shoulders again. Stepped farther into the
room, blinked and blinked once more, moved step by step until she thought she
was in the center. The feeling of
rightness
was here. She closed her
eyes. The atmosphere
flowed
in some way. She’d read of seething and
roiling atmosphere, but that wasn’t it. Richer? Contained more oxygen? She’d
grown up in the Mile High City, but had lived at various altitudes since. More
magic?
Yes!

Like
the great round temple in the Castle, there was more magic here. The rafters
might be studded with storage crystals. The home surgery at the house they’d
given her and Elizabeth had crystals but they weren’t as old and saturated as
here.

She
glanced at Zeres. No wonder he passed out. Whatever sensitized him to the Song
might have short-circuited him.

Curiosity
nibbled at her. She couldn’t tell where the Power source was. She stamped her
feet, listening for hollowness, couldn’t hear any, but thought there was a
basement. If she really believed in the Song she could raise her voice and send
it echoing, testing the interior space. She wasn’t much of a singer.
A
feeler.
Once again she closed her eyes, extended every other sense.

She
had to go up.

She
tried to recall how many floors. Didn’t remember anything except the
crenelations at the top. She still couldn’t see much, but the stair tower was
on her left, angling into the room, with a deep black slab of a door or
opening. “Light,” she said, and flicked a bit of Power out with the word as
she’d been taught. Nothing happened. No prepared torches or crystals or
whatever was in here.

Something
rustled. She froze.

Zeres
snuffled, shifted, groaned. His boots scraped against the grit of the floor as
he curled up.

Bri
let out a held breath. She peered through the door into the night. Forked
lightning silvered sheets of rain, then left the city darker. She couldn’t see
to the other side of the cul de sac. She shivered. No summer warmth.

She
thought of Sevair’s grumpiness, the ache she’d sensed in his joints. A
low-pressure system had been affecting him. She hoped he was warm and dry.

The
outside door lay black-hole-like on the floor. Zeres grumbled in his sleep. The
rain hissed. She wouldn’t be leaving soon. Another shiver. Surely upstairs
would be warmer, or would there be windows open to the rain?

Rubbing
her arms, she sidled toward the stair tower until her toe thunked against wood,
like the sound of rich paneling. She slid her foot around and found dips and
protrusions. A door of embellished wood. Since nothing crumbled or splintered,
the tower hadn’t been deserted too long. She opened the door and the dark
wasn’t so oppressive. Air and dim light came from above.

With
careful steps she wound upwards on the solid stone stairs. Then she reached the
tiny threshold-landing of the next floor, this one a pointed arch, half open
and not quite as dark.

The
scent was stronger here, but so was warmth. Bri pushed the door open with a
horror-movie
creaaakk
and entered the main chamber. Large windows on
three walls showed light from opaque glass, a bare room. Thunder rumbled, and
Bri was spurred upward. The next level should open onto the walk atop the city
wall. It wouldn’t be much sheltered, she wouldn’t go out. So she passed that
door and went up to the topmost floor. That rectangular door was also half open
and beyond was more light, more windows. She shoved it open. Stepped through.

Hot
wind whipped it from her hand and slammed it behind her.

What
iss thiss? A little human. Female. Tassty?

21

E
lizabeth had
fallen into the dazed alertness so familiar from her internship, awaiting an
emergency to shock adrenaline through her body. Absently she split her
attention. She watched her bond with Bri flare and subside with different
colors. Noted the coming and goings of Marshalls and Chevaliers in the Map
Room. Lady Knight Swordmarshall Thealia Germain had come to study the map,
nodded in satisfaction and dragged her shorter, plumper husband away to bed.

When
the door opened Elizabeth scented damp air, not Colorado high and dry air, and
wispy mist floated in. It smelled damp. Weather wasn’t indicated on the map,
and she was most accustomed to animated weather maps. Not in Colorado anymore.

She
observed the skirmishes from fence gap to gap ever eastward, raising new golden
fenceposts and snapping the electric blue magical barrier into place. The fence
itself was powered by the deaths of horrors and people fighting along the
border.