Protector of the Flight (7 page)

More
than feeling them, she could hear Songs. An interesting, intricate Song with
echoes of Earth rhythms from Marian, an equally complicated, more masculine
bass and brass from Jaquar. And a powerful twining Song greater-than-its-parts
from them as a couple.

She
saw them in the courtyard, sitting and observing her, leaning together. A brief
spurt of envy held her still.

Thunder
zoomed down, turned. The wind caught his wings and he tipped sideways. Calli’s
fingers slipped from his mane and she fell right off him. She screamed and
plummeted. A whisk of air surrounded her, spun her like she was trapped in a
gentle whirlwind, then she was righted and set onto her feet before Marian and
Jaquar.

Marian’s
eyes were huge, her hands to her throat. Jaquar’s right arm was outstretched.
Calli stared at it. It had been
he,
the Sorcerer, who’d caught her and
brought her down safely.

Magic.

She
really needed that whiskey.

M
arrec could
hardly believe Dark Lance was back and they were flying to battle, just as they
had for many years. He swallowed hard. The cool wind stung his eyes. He blinked
and looked around him, awed by the sight of all the Marshalls and Chevaliers
streaming to the battlefield at the same time. Bright colors, shining armor and
gleaming volaran coats flowed like banners against the summer blue sky.

Usually
there’d be fighters caught elsewhere when the alarm rang, who’d arrive later,
but all the Chevaliers of the Castle had been near the Keep, or lounging in
Temple Ward, to glimpse the new Exotique.

So
they flew together and Marrec’s heart lifted. The Castle alarm was connected to
the magical fence posts along the north border of Lladrana. When it rang, the
pattern of the notes and the stridency alerted them to the place where the
monsters invaded and the number of horrors to expect. Experience had taught him
to understand the alarm. They flew to the northeast.

As
he watched, opaque bubbles formed around volarans and riders, masking the bold
heraldic colors and gleam of mail. “Distance magic,” spells that increased the
distance a volaran flew with every beat of its wings. Warriors could fly
immense distances and engage the enemy near the border instead of dealing with
monsters deep in Lladrana.

Need
Power for Distance Spell,
said Dark Lance.

5

M
arrec sent Power
to his volaran. Together they curved the distance-magic spell around them. With
every beat of wings, leagues were covered.

Dark
Lance whinnied in surprise.
More Power.

It
was his first real mental communication since he’d returned.

Yes,
Marrec said.
I
linked with others, with the Marshalls and stronger Chevaliers to heal the new
Exotique. The pathways in my mind that channel Power opened more.

Good,
Dark Lance
said, then fell silent. The volaran had never been one to speak while flying
unless it was urgent. Their few real conversations had taken place in the
stables. Marrec ached to question Dark Lance on the disappearance but had to
put his curiosity aside to prepare for battle.

When
the bubble of distance magic popped, Marrec rose from a light trance and
watched the ground near. They descended to a large clearing in the shadow of
the mountains. Dark Lance was following Lady Hallard’s volaran down to the west
side of the battle. The Marshalls were already down and fighting as the
incredible team they were—fifty linked minds decimated the monsters.

With
a clutch of his gut, Marrec saw there were plenty of foes still available. This
was one of the largest attacks he’d ever seen. Had the Dark taken note that
they’d struggled to repel the last few incursions—and on horseback, not
volarans? He was all too sure of that.

Not
one slayer, render or soul-sucker could be allowed to escape into the interior
of Lladrana.

He
slipped his shield onto his right arm, unsheathed his broadsword.

“Marrec!”
Two volarans and riders were at his left, Chevaliers sworn to Lady Hallard, a
man and a woman with whom he usually teamed. All of them could speak with their
volarans. He hesitated.

Dark
Lance didn’t, and Marrec was pulled into a loose connection of minds. The other
volarans were mere murmurs.

That
mixed bunch, left!
cried Sharmane, diving toward a group of ten.

Renders
are mine!
Jon shouted, heading for a massive black-furred beast with razor-sharp claws.

Soul-suckers!
Marrec called.
Dark Lance trembled, but Marrec was determined and urged his mount toward the
two soul-suckers on the fringes. Soul-suckers rated the best bounty and he
wanted some hides.

I
will Shield you both,
Sharmane yelled.

Dark
Lance caught a soul-sucker with one hoof in its nose hole, smashing the gray
head apart with a killing blow. The three tentacles at its right shoulder
writhed, one whipping across Marrec’s waist. A yellow slayer spine shot to him.
He deflected the poisonous arrow with his shield, swung his sword and
decapitated another soul-sucker, continued his blow to slash the back of the
yellow-furred slayer. The thing shrieked and turned, spines shooting from its
arm straight to Dark Lance.

Terror
flooded Dark Lance. He reared. Spines struck, bounced off the protective shield
both Marrec and Sharmane had slapped over the volaran. Marrec pulled the fear
from his steed’s mind, using the emotion to drive his own Power, making his
strikes harder, faster. He sent iron calm and fierce determination to the
volaran.
We shield. You live.

Only
the moments mattered, the next blow, ducking, turning, spearing. Slashing,
kicking, cleaving. His mind held the volaran’s, refusing to let the winged
horse panic, bolstering its innate courage. Imposing his will for the duration
of the fight.

He
caught sight of the bright blue line of energy from a newly raised fence post.
In a fury of fighting, he forced a render and a soul-sucker onto the border
line and killed them. The energy field flared high and secure at that point and
Marrec grinned, a rictus of triumph.

Done!
came the loud
shout of the Marshalls, rushing from mind to mind to the Chevaliers. The battle
was over, all the horrors destroyed.

He
panted a spell over his blade to clean it, ordered Dark Lance to the ground.
Marrec wiped his forehead with his arm, winced as he finally felt the sting of
two sucker rounds that had raised bumps on his cheek. His muscles were tired,
aching, but his blood still sang with the aftermath of victory. He grinned at
Sharmane and Jon and went to count his booty.

He
found six soul-sucker bodies with his killing mark, three renders and a couple
of slayers. A third of his kill went to Sharmane who’d acted as his Shield. He
gave his tally to Lady Hallard and she took her third, choosing to keep the two
headless soul-suckers with most of their hide and tentacles. Soul-sucker was
now in demand for hats ever since Bastien Vauxveau had shown how well they
protected a person from the frink-worms that fell with the rain.

When
Marrec piled his prize in the spell-net, ready to take to an assayer, Dark
Lance lifted his lip.
Nasty smell.

“Yes,
but I made some decisions when you were gone. From now on we’ll be taking all
our kill.”

The
volaran shuddered.
Uses more Power to fly back.

“From
both of us.” He attached two long lines to rings on both sides of Dark Lance’s
saddle to the net. “I promise this catch will feel no heavier than a pouch of
silver coins. And I’ll buy a better net. There’s zhiv to be made in selling
hides. The demand for slayer and render hide has gone up from the City States
and Shud.”

Dark
Lance snorted, then looked away.
We last.

Marrec
looked around. His volaran was right. Everyone else was gone. An atavistic
tingle slithered down his spine. The sun was setting and they’d be lucky to be
back at the Castle before dark. He tested his reserves and found them
acceptable for the flight. That was a relief. Not everyone had taken their
kills. The Marshalls and wealthier nobles who had paying estates didn’t need
the extra zhiv and only claimed trophies they wanted mounted. A whole
soul-sucker was a few strides away…. He snorted in disgust at the idea of
becoming a scavenger…but he wanted to better his lot in life. Still, his net
was full and his Power limited.

And
night threatened. There was no local landowner so far north to offer
hospitality. Died out long ago, just as had Marrec’s parents and the rest of
his village. His memories of that massacre were blessedly vague. Again he
shivered, then the light dimmed just enough for the boundary line to brighten
the evening and he was comforted.

The
ancient fence posts that had begun failing a couple of years ago were now being
replaced. Everyone now knew how, and how to energize the boundary line from one
fence post to the next. This bit of land was secure.

That
didn’t mean he wanted to hang around. “Let’s go home.”

Home,
echoed Dark
Lance wistfully. To Marrec’s relief he saw the image of the Castle stables in
the volaran’s mind, instead of Volaran Valley. Thank the Song.

A
n embarrassed
Thunder took off, with a brief telepathic,
I must report on our ride
together.
Huh. Calli rolled her shoulders and fell into a standard analysis
of her performance. The flight had been magnificent. She’d bonded with the
volaran more than with the simple empathy she’d felt for her lost Spark. They’d
been partners, but with her in the lead. She sensed a volaran’s threshold of
going “right brain,” acting in panic, was far higher than a horse’s. They must
not have had many predators, probably not for a long time.

Marian
and Jaquar took Calli to the Map Room on the other side of the courtyard.
Something in the way people referred to the room jittered her nerves so she
thought of it in capital letters. When they reached the door, she noted incised
golden letters in curlicued words which she couldn’t read. More and more this
was seeming less a dream, more like an alternate reality, but how
could
she believe that?

Jaquar
opened the door and held it. She stepped in to see a topographical map as large
as a California king bedsheet angled before her, looking like no country she’d
ever seen before. And it was animated. Bright yellow-white dots pulsed fast,
other dots, smaller and yellower, blinked slower.

Marian
marched up to the map and touched the largest island off the western coast.
“This is where Jaquar and I, and my mentor, Bossgond, live.” She indicated a
small castle in the middle of the map. “This is where we are now.”

Calli
gulped.

Jaquar
pointed to the lights Calli had noticed. “This is the magical northern
boundary, Power strung between the fence posts—” he tapped the lights “—to keep
the horrors out.”

Nape
prickling, Calli took a few steps closer. Her mouth had dried. She swept a
tongue over her lips. “There are gaps.”

“Indeed,”
Jaquar said. “The old fence posts are failing. Only recently have we been able
to replace them—”

“Alexa’s
task,” Marian interrupted, her dark blue eyes serious.

“Alexa’s
task.” Calli cleared her throat. “And yours?”

Marian
shrugged. “I had a couple. The Marshalls hid the fact that the fence posts were
failing and the monsters were invading easily and in greater numbers. This
splintered already distant communities within the culture.” She gestured to
herself and Jaquar, indicating their golden headbands. “Such as the Circlets of
the Tower Community.”

“And
most especially divided the Chevaliers from the Marshalls,” Jaquar said. “Alexa
was Summoned for the Marshalls, Marian for the Sorcerers and Sorceresses, and
you for the Chevaliers.” He took his wife’s hand and kissed her fingers.
“Marian has done a brilliant job of mending the breach between the Marshalls
and Tower…as well as being an ambassador from the Tower Community to others.
They trust us now.”

“As
much as less magical people trust the most magical,” Marian said with a wry
smile.

A
hum came from the map and both Marian and Jaquar turned back to it. “Ah,” said
Jaquar. He tapped a spot on the border where bright flashes came. “The battle
is over and the Marshalls and Chevaliers are returning.” He let out a big sigh.
“We lost no one and there’s a new fence post. The border is strengthened to the
next post, so we killed some horrors.” He eyed the map critically. “No larger
monsters made it very far into Lladrana.”

That
was the second time Calli had heard “monsters.” She straightened her shoulders.
“Guess that’s what I’m supposed to do, right, kill monsters? Maybe stop the
invasion?”

Marian’s
forehead creased. “Since the volarans disappeared and only returned after you
were Summoned, it can be extrapolated that not only will you mend the divisiveness
within the Chevalier community, and their distrust of the Marshalls, but
also—um—speak on behalf of the volarans to everyone, particularly those who fly
on—
with
—them.”