Protector of the Flight (59 page)

The
Friend took a step, his expression went comically surprised as he realized he
was tangled in the great Song of the place and hadn’t even known it. He fell.

She
tilted her head and looked at him. “One of the texts of the Song in my land
says, ‘A haughty spirit goes before a fall, and pride goes before
destruction.’”

The
other Friends stepped aside as she and Marrec took a humming path up the gentle
hill.

After
a couple of minutes, Calli realized that Marrec matched her steps. His Song,
even and with burgeoning Power, radiated from him, encompassing her, supporting
her. As her own Song went to him. Their melded Pair Song was stronger than
ever, and she let a breath out at the thought.

He
glanced at her. “No other person could have kept me sane and functioning in a
world like yours.” His voice was rough and she realized that he’d kept his
words short, until now. His emotions swirled around them—released fear,
dreadful confusion, incipient despair. He’d kept them all pent up on Earth.

She
stopped and wrapped her arms around him and stood with him, not caring who
watched. They’d survived. Stroking his cheek, she said, “You could have lived
on Earth. You’re strong and adaptable enough. We would have made a good life
there.” But they’d always have had holes in themselves. She was so glad to be
back, she ached. She’d hold her children in her arms soon.

Tilting
back her head, she welcomed his kiss. He pulled her tight, swept his tongue
across her lips, then thrust it inside her mouth to explore. She gave herself
up to sensation, sweet knowledge that she belonged here, with this man, on this
world.

When
the heat had risen between them, he stepped back, fire in his eyes. “We’ll
celebrate tonight.” His rare grin flashed and he took her hand again. “Now
let’s retrieve our children and talk to the Singer.”

There
was an edge in his voice as he mentioned the prophetess. Sharp images ran from
his mind to hers. The milky crystal in the hillside of her ranch on
Earth…throbbing with Power that had been “tuned.” The same crystal in shards so
they couldn’t return to Lladrana that way no matter how they tried. The
recollection of the “push” that had spun them through to Earth when Calli would
have stayed on Lladrana with the Snap.

His
anger fueled her own. Oh, yeah, she had things to say to this Singer.

At
the top of the hill was a rust-colored curlicued iron gate, which a woman held
open for them. They walked through without stopping, though both Marrec and she
thanked the gatekeeper. Calli didn’t hear it shut behind her.

Marrec’s
grip tightened on her fingers.
Let us probe for the children.
He sent
his mind, his heart, his Song out.

“They’re
here!” Her heart found them first. “Playing in a garden.”

One
side of Marrec’s mouth quirked. “Quarreling.”

She
chuckled. “Yes.” Then she leaned her head against his arm. This time he stopped
and they stood in a small cul-de-sac of green. “I want to hold my children.”

His
jaw flexed. “I do, too. But I have a feeling that the Singer isn’t going to
release them to us until after this ‘interview.’”

“Well,
she’d better not think she can keep Diaminta and Jetyer. I’ll lead an army of
volarans against her!”

He
lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “You’d do that, go against the
most Powerful person in Lladrana, perhaps on all of Amee?”

“Yes,
and Alexa and Marian and their men would join me.”

Again
he kissed her fingers, then said, “A high standard, me being cast in with
Shieldmarshall Bastien Vauxveau and Circlet Sorcerer Jaquar Dumont.”

She
kissed his cheek. “You’re their equal.”

He
stilled. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I
know
so.”

There
came a screech, and a peacock paraded around the edge of the building and up to
them.

“Which
feycoocu?” Marrec murmured.

Calli
squinted. “Though it’s male…I’d say Alexa’s companion.”

Sinafinal
shut and opened her tail feathers, then turned as if to lead.

After
sharing a glance, they followed the stately peacock. It actually walked slower
than they’d been, so they earned a few more minutes to acclimate. As Calli
recalled Alexa’s tale of the Singer, and from the buzzing Power surrounding
them, she began to think that she’d need all her wits.

All
the buildings were fanciful, mixing spires and onion domes with round and
square towers in a jumble that still twinged Calli’s heart at the beauty. As
they walked, heavy spells of protection and Songs pulsed from the walls. The
pretty pathways included cobbles and greenery and stepping stones and live
thyme. None of the paths were long and they often curved, branched, came to a
dead end at a wall. It didn’t take long to realize that they were threading a maze—and
unlike the Castle’s, this one was of stone.

At
the end of the last twisting path was a high pointed arch doorway set in a
jewel of a chapel. Another Friend waited on the threshold of the open door.
“The Singer awaits,” he said.

43

T
he Friend stepped
aside as they entered, waved toward the end of the gracefully arched stone
building. “Just walk straight through all the rooms.”

Calli
once again adjusted her wedding robe over her dreeth leathers. Both reminded
her who she was. The feycoocu chirped and stayed behind.

A
few steps in, all her tension drained and she stumbled. Marrec caught her elbow
and smiled at her with an easy curve of his lips.

Calli
frowned and glanced at the Friend behind them, who stood with placid expression
and folded hands. “This entryway suppresses negative emotions.”

Of
course.

Marrec
shifted his shoulders. “The Abbey is lovely.”

The
light inside was wonderful, painting the white stone walls golden from the
windows set in arches on the bottom and huge towering rectangular windows above
them. The space was relatively narrow compared to the height. They were the
only people in this chamber, though the soft hum of voices and Songs rose from
elsewhere.

A
small line appeared between Marrec’s brows as if he heard his own words whisper
in an echo back to him. His fingers closed harder on Calli’s arm and that
helped focus her thoughts, though she didn’t get her suspicions back.

“Is
this where Song Quests are done?” Marrec stood solidly in place.

“No,”
said the Friend.

“Guess
we’re relatively safe then,” Calli said.

“Safety
is always relative,” Marrec said.

About
a third of the way down was a beautifully carved wooden wall about sixteen feet
high that blocked the rest of the space and emphasized the austerity of the
tall creamy stone walls and glass. The wooden screen held a small door they’d
have to go through single file.

Their
steps were muffled and Calli noticed that some areas had thick rugs and others
were bare stone in patterned squares of dark red and blue marble.

They
walked fast through three chambers, nodding to Singer’s Friends who stood or
talked or worked at desks, then entered the last, smallest space. The walls
were paneled with gleaming dark oak, the floor layered with rugs. A couple of
steps led to a dais where a chair that looked like a throne stood. Behind the
chair a tall velvet curtain of royal blue rippled and Calli was sure there was
more space and at least one door behind it.

Alexa
hovered at the door, waiting for them, as she’d promised.

Sitting
up straight in the chair, her feet placed on an embroidered footstool, was a
very small and very old lady whose eyes pierced Calli.

Marrec’s
hand unlinked with hers and he put his arm in a loose circle about her waist,
again matching step with her. Alexa kept pace with them. When they reached the
steps up to the platform, Marrec gave a half bow, so Calli did, too.

With
a graceful gesture the Singer indicated some chairs on the dais that Calli
hadn’t noticed.

“Welcome
to Singer’s Abbey. I am the nine-hundred-and-ninety-ninth Singer.” That stopped
Calli in her tracks. She looked over at Alexa, who was looking right back at
her.

The
Singer chuckled, the rich timbre of it sank right into Calli’s bones. This was
a woman who
breathed
Power. Someone deeply trained in magic over a very
long period of time. Every sound she uttered would carry spells.

Calli
and Marrec went to chairs on the Singer’s left. Marrec hesitated, then put her
between himself and the Singer—protecting her more from whatever might burst
through the door than the old woman. Well, strange things had happened to Calli
in the last couple of months, she wouldn’t bet that more unusual events
couldn’t occur, like an attack in the seat of Power in Lladrana. She sat,
arranging her scarf.

Alexa
took a chair to the Singer’s right, legs dangling. She was nearly as small as
the old woman. With a sniff, Alexa settled back and crossed her legs on the
chair seat. The Singer raised a hand and a man dressed in midnight blue
separated himself from the shadows and put a little footstool near Alexa’s
chair. She smiled up at him, with teeth. Her wariness was sharp enough to
overcome the smothering spells in the walls. “Thank you. I’m fine.”

“Swordmarshall,
your boots on the chair and cushion—”

“Consequences
of you not being prepared,” Alexa said. “Cost of doing business.”

Calli
listened in admiration, but then Alexa was a woman used to being aggressive.

Cocking
her head, Alexa said, “Tell me, Lady Singer, does your vocal range include four
octaves?”

Everyone
looked surprised at Alexa’s question, the servant horrified.

The
Singer laughed, once again tickling nerves deep inside Calli.

“Ayes,
dear, it does.”

Alexa
met Calli’s eyes. “Marian would have wanted me to ask.”

Calli
was clueless.

“The
weapon knot,” Alexa said. “It can only be used by someone who has a singing
range of four octaves.”

“Ah,
the Circlet Marian Harasta,” said the Singer. Her words lilted and Calli
figured she could listen to the woman all day and that if the Singer actually
Sang she might fall out of her chair in a blissful faint.

“Thou
mayst tell Marian that she is most welcome to visit me,” the Singer said in
English, in a Boston accent.

Marrec
sat up straight. He was listening hard. Still protective of herself and Alexa.
What a man. “You hold our children?” He spoke English, too.

The
Singer made a moue. “They are safe and healthy, enjoying the Abbey.” She’d
switched back to Lladranan and Calli didn’t know if she liked it. The Singer’s
voice was much more a subtle weapon of infinite meanings and tone when speaking
Lladranan.

Calli
caught the sound of the far outside door opening and voices coming from the end
of the hall, which were silenced by an authoritative command. No one said
anything as they heard quick boot heels in long strides snapping on stone and
muffled on rugs. No one else tried to stop the man, though there were murmurs
as he passed through the other rooms. Finally the door opened and Luthan
Vauxveau in his white leathers entered. When he reached the bottom of the dais,
he made a sweeping bow to the Singer. “Lady.”

The
Friend hastily placed a chair to the outside of Alexa, though Calli would have
bet her manor that Luthan treated antique furniture with care, no matter what
the circumstances. He took the chair, then sent a less than respectful glance
toward the Singer. “I just heard that Calli and Marrec are back. All the
volarans are Singing with gladness. You didn’t inform me that Calli and Marrec
would return today.”

“It
is time you trained your own prophetic Power,” she said.

His
head jerked back as if from a blow.

“And
that leads me to why I wanted this interview.” The Singer turned to Calli. “You
have brought new understanding between volarans and people, fulfilling that
task. You have mended the rift between the Chevaliers and the Marshalls, which
has fulfilled the Chevaliers’ task. You have found and surveyed the Dark’s nest
here on Amee, another task.” She tapped the wooden arm of her chair with her
fingernails and even that sound echoed through the room.

Incredible
acoustics. Incredible woman.

The
Singer looked at Marrec. “And Callista brought you, the finest Volaran Speaker,
into your true Power. You also completed your task on Exotique Terre. You
brought the horses to breed with the volarans. I do not travel well anymore,
and I wanted to meet you here in my home.” Her smile held an edge. “I was sure
that Alyeka would come, too, as she did, and hoped to see Marian also. Three
Exotiques.” See them together and study them and their interactions, Calli got
that. “And their Pairlings.”

Calli’s
stomach clutched. “You have our children.”

The
Singer nodded. “The only children adopted by Exotiques in centuries. They have
been very informative.”