Keepers of the Flame (35 page)

Faucon
waited in silence.

Finally
Luthan shook his head, opened his lashes and met Faucon’s gaze. “There is
something disturbing about the Seamasters. They are hiding something. But it is
a relatively old secret.” Luthan made a frustrated gesture. “Some moons old,
but still affecting,” he paused, tilted his head as if listening. “Still
affecting Amee’s Song.”

“And
the Singer does not tell you of this secret that she might know.” Faucon kept
his tone even.

“
Ttho
.”
Luthan shrugged. “I hinted at the topic, she ignored it.”

“Understood.
I’ll speak with my cousin, my heir. He’ll be as discreet as possible.”

“Thank
you.”

Faucon
clapped Luthan on the shoulder. “We’ll figure this out.”

“Please
don’t tell Elizabeth.” Luthan shifted his stance, muttered, “Too much going
on.”

Raising
his brows, Faucon said, “I don’t hear how this affects the Exotiques, but I’ll
say nothing to my lady.”

Luthan
turned back to the window. Faucon followed his gaze to see Alexa and Bastien
volaranback rising to practice battle exercises with a new Chevalier class.

“It
affects them all,” Luthan muttered. “I don’t know how, but it affects them,
us
,
all.”

26

O
ne night Raine
hunched by the fire of the Open Mouthed Fish tavern and listened to tales and
old news brought by a traveler to Seamasters’ Market. He came from inland,
Castleton by “The Castle.” She wasn’t sure where this was, but knew it was far
enough away that she’d never make it on her own.

They
spoke of the
others
. That’s what she called them, when she thought of
them. Which was often, ever since she’d heard of them a couple of weeks before.

She
dared think of them in a superstitious whisper. If she said it aloud she might
jinx the idea that she was like them. That belief would shrivel up and blow
away like that hideous web thing in the older story and leave her hopeless.

She
was afraid to hope. Hope was a glittering shard of a sharp mirror. You’d hope, and
then it would be ripped from you and you were so much worse off. Hope and
despair, a vicious cycle.

There
were others like her. She’d heard them called
Exotiques
, women who’d
come from another dimension, and from what she could make out, Earth. They were
spoken of with respect by all but Travys, and when he sneered he was shut up by
the rest.

There
was the Swordmarshall, the Circlet, the Volaran partner, and the Medicas. When
they were gossiped of, they were all spoken of as being
together
.
Stories went that when a person dealt with one, they dealt with all.

Considering
that idea was when her heart would start thumping hard and she could hear the
tide of her own blood thunder in her ears—because of hope. If she could get to
them, contact them somehow, would they welcome her?

Travys
swaggered into the Tavern and Raine tensed, faded into the deep shadow of the
taproom’s corner. It didn’t matter. His gaze went straight to her.

She’d
frozen too long. He crossed the room with a few strides, lifted a meaty hand.
“Why you starin’ at your betters, girl? Want a piece of my cock? Well, it ain’t
got no likin’ for half-breed trash like you.” His heavy arm swung down.

Pain!
But she’d ducked in time. The blow only grazed her cheek. Good luck, then. Not
as bad a bruise as the last two times. She didn’t fight back, not when he
always hit her in public and no one protested. He’d kill her if she fought.

She
ran into the kitchen, now off limits to all customers, and began washing a
stack of pots. Not looking at the gleaming pitcher that might show her battered
cheek. As she set the crude pot on the drainer and reached for another, she
faced facts.

She’d
have to leave. It had been a while since she last tried. Maybe she’d acclimated
by now and the sickness wouldn’t claim her this time. Maybe she could walk
inland more than a few miles. Maybe she wouldn’t be tied to the sea and this
tavern on the pier. At least she could follow the coast, but so far this was
the best place she’d found to keep the sickness at bay.

She’d
wanted to stay and hear more about the
others
, ask about them where
people might actually answer off-hand and truthfully.

Not
now.

She
fumbled to plan an escape. The timing would be tricky. To stay as long as she
could, but not so long that she didn’t survive Travys.

T
he first couple
of days passed and Elizabeth was kept busy with minor injuries and classes—with
the medicas and Calli, who taught her and Starflower volaran partnering. To her
chagrin, but secret relief, the townspeople didn’t expect her to keep the afternoon
surgery office hours in Castleton. Nor did the city folk come to the Castle
with the frink disease. Despite the fact that she’d healed the sickness, it was
always with Bri. Doubt niggled at Elizabeth whether she could do it on her own.
She just didn’t have the verve Bri did, throwing herself into that
healingstream.

Elizabeth
spoke with Bri every day by crystal ball. The other cities were keeping her
busy, and Bri looked…subdued. Elizabeth could only imagine what it felt like to
be seeing a portion of an epidemic, healing only for a few hours, knowing that
before you came and after you left, people would die.

As
for the Castle, no more battle alarms came. That concerned everyone, as if the
Master was brewing up even more nastiness. Elizabeth fervently hoped the fact
that they’d been unable to cure the sickness hadn’t reached the Master’s ears.

Most
of her time outside of work, she spent with Faucon, learning magic, or flying,
or making love. The man was a fabulous lover. She deliberately lived in the moment.
She learned he was a rich man, born to title and wealth and privilege, much
more than most. He could command resources, and when the Marshalls asked for
his help, he gave it generously. Usually he’d do paperwork in the evenings with
her in his rooms; he kept up a good correspondence with his cousin who handled
his northern estate. She wrote reports on each patient, and kept notes
regarding Lladranan healing for herself. She also endeavored to get down some
basic medical information about germs, bacteria, viri, and other issues,
translating them into Lladranan terms for her teachers.

Zeres,
Bri’s mentor, came up to the Castle only once and irritated all the medicas so
that they didn’t welcome him again.

Finally,
on the fourth day, the doorharp sounded just after breakfast, followed by a
knock. When Marian entered, Elizabeth’s heart thumped hard in her chest. “It’s
time?”

Marian
inclined her head. “Bossgond’s ready to experiment by sending something through
the dimensional corridor to your condo. Despite your directions, we’ve been
unable to locate it on our own. Marian shrugged. “It’s been years since I lived
in Denver and my geography is no longer precise.”

“Let
me change into flying gear and I’ll be right with you.” Elizabeth hurried into
the bedroom and stripped off her formal medica robes. The day was cool and she
finally settled on Chevalier leathers instead of the traveling medica costume.

“Can
you fly on your volaran clear to the islands by yourself?” asked Marian.

“She
certainly can,” Faucon said. “But I’m going, too.”

“Bossgond
is slightly reformed,” Marian said, “but he still doesn’t like visitors.”

Faucon
opened a desk drawer. “I wouldn’t dream of arriving without a host gift. Would
Bossgond like a vial of jerir?”

Marian
said drily, “I’m sure he’d find a use for such a valuable item.”

Faucon
bowed.

A
few minutes later Faucon’s squires had helped her saddle Starflower and all
four of them were off. Her heart picked up beat. Her first long flight, and to
the sea! She could hardly wait to use Distance Magic, the spells that shortened
the time spent on a journey, spells Sung by both volaran and human. She yearned
to see the geography of the maps that she’d become so familiar with.

The
sky was pearly gray, with coal-colored clouds billowing in the distant north.
The west, toward the sea, appeared clearer with wisps of silver-lined clouds.

Though
she didn’t really speak Equine to Starflower, the volaran was sweet tempered
enough to take direction well. They flew southwest, Faucon on her left, not
quite within reach, but reassuring nonetheless. He’d fought in many battles and
he and his volaran knew how to rescue a falling comrade. Not that she wanted to
think about that.

To
her right was Jaquar, Marian’s husband. Both he and his volaran were large. As
a weather Circlet, he commanded air. He, too, could catch her, magically, if
she fell. Behind her was Marian. Elizabeth had some doubts whether the Exotique
woman was trained enough to help her, but she kept that to herself.

A half
hour into the flight, Jaquar gave the order to initiate Distance Magic.
Elizabeth felt the brush of minds on her own, inhaled, then Sang. She heard the
others Sing the few couplets too.

A
not quite translucent bubble surrounded her. She got dizzy if she looked at the
ground. With each sweep of her wings, Starflower covered more than was natural
to a volaran. The rolling hills gave way to green plains, then grassy dunes,
then the island-studded Brisay Sea.

Too
bad Bri is so far away
, Faucon said.

Elizabeth
gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to do this alone. Too bad, was right. Soon
they were spiraling down to the largest island of the chain, Alf Island, which
always belonged to the premier Circlet of the age, currently Bossgond, Marian’s
mentor.

Marian’s
volaran picked up speed until she came next to Elizabeth and pointed down.
The
towers I raised as my last test!

Elizabeth
goggled. She’d read Marian’s book, so she should have expected Tower Bridge
from London, but it was different. No bridge, just the towers, connected by a
walkway. Before she could get a good look, they’d landed close to a tall round
tower, of the ubiquitous gray stone. Elizabeth slid off Starflower and Faucon
took Starflower’s reins, gestured to the rest of the volarans who moved around him.
He bowed to the short, bony man in the doorway. “Salutations, Circlet Bossgond.
I will care for the volarans.”

The
old man just gave a loud snort, turned and went into the tower.

“Oh,
dear,” Marian said, frowning. “Not a good sign.”

Elizabeth
didn’t like the sound of that. Faucon gave her a kiss and she clung for an
instant before following Marian and Jaquar. This journey was probably tame
compared to what Bri was enduring, but Elizabeth had qualms.

Their
parents. That was the bottom line. Trying to spare them grief by transporting
something from here to Earth.

As
they climbed the inside stairs that circled the tower, Marian spoke to
Bossgond, then threw words over her shoulder. “You’re sure your parents will
check your condo if you don’t return.”

“Yes.
Of course. They both have keys.”

Marian
cleared her throat. “Ah, when is the mortgage payment?”

Beneath
her breath, Elizabeth said, “Too bad you didn’t ask that before you jerked us
away.” She was cold. Her hand was trembling on the stair rail. Aloud she said,
“I have automatic withdrawal for most of my bills. I’ll be fine.”

“That’s
good.”

They
finally reached a large circular room, covered in shelves crammed full of
strange objects, with a few windows high in the wall. There was a grouping of
several fat pillows on a thick pad of colorfully patterned rugs in the middle
of the room, a conversation pit. The most riveting item was a huge brass
telescope with a multitude of gears and levers pointed at many mirrors.
Elizabeth just stared until the man, about her height, which made him short,
came up and got in her face. “Come along. No time to waste. This task is
not
easy.” He examined her up and down, then moved away. “Would have liked to have
seen the set,” he muttered.

Elizabeth
followed.

He
gestured to the eyepiece of the telescope. “It is fixed on your city, but
Marian could not locate your abode.” He harumphed. “Not good enough
directions.”

Marian
stiffened, folded her hands. Jaquar slanted a sardonic look at the old man, put
his hand on Marian’s shoulder.

After
one last glance around, Elizabeth bent to look into the telescope. Colfax
Avenue sprang into life, cars trundling along. She caught her breath. It
appeared completely alien.

People
wore shorts and T-shirts, the sun was harsh, she could almost see heat waves
rising from concrete and asphalt. Not at all like the cool Lladranan weather.

A
bony finger poked her side. “The sooner you indicate your home, the sooner I
can get my experiments underway. I understood that there is a time limit.” The
old man’s voice held a rasp, but like most Lladranans’ of Power, it was
compelling.