Читать книгу Protector of the Flight - Robin D. Owens - Страница 15

Calli woke and stretched luxuriously. The bed was wonderful, too bad she was alone in it. She must be treating herself to a good hotel near the next competition…everything rushed back.

She was in Lladrana. Or at least she wasn’t in her own bed back at the ranch. What was written in those old-time black-and-white movies? “Meanwhile, back at the ranch…” A hollow laugh rasped from her. What little peace she’d felt when she woke up vanished.

But there were compensations. She walked from the bedroom to the den where she could see the Landing Field. A couple of volarans and riders were already out, lifting their wings and soaring. Her breath caught at the beauty.

That could be her…flying into the dawn. She watched until they diminished into specks and she became aware of standing naked in a strangely furnished den—with books and scrolls in an alphabet she couldn’t read.

Her breath came in short bursts and she felt the way she did just before a race, scared and excited and determined. She’d get through this day and the one after that…Back in the bedroom, she dressed near the windows. The only person who’d see her would be riding volaran-back and she’d see them first.

Lladrana. Fabulous flying horses. Horrible monsters. Nobody had talked much about the monsters she’d be expected to fight. Trying to keep the really bad downside of this life low key. Her stomach clenched. As if they could. As if she hadn’t seen wisps of them in Alexa’s mind, in Bastien’s and Jaquar’s and in Marian’s—a man with tentacles on his face reeking of evil power. Yeah, she had inklings. Enough that it made her pace, unready to open the door and explore on her own. Silly, but with a day full of such strange and magical experiences as the day before, she intended to be cautious.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…what would her dad be doing? Thinking she’d run somewhere, no doubt. He wouldn’t gloat. That would take too much emotion, show too much an investment in her, which he didn’t have.

The doorharp rippled, and Marian’s projected tones said, “Calli, ready for breakfast?”

Calli didn’t answer.

“Think she’ll drink a language potion this morning?” Marian asked.

“Not a chance. Besides, if she doesn’t back out of that Choosing and Bonding ceremony, she’ll get the language transfer in bed.” There was a lilt in Alexa’s voice.

Calli decided she didn’t like being talked about. The two women were probably not going away. She opened the door. Standing before her, looking perfectly fresh, were Alexa and Marian; near their feet were two small greyhounds.

Salutations, Calli, said one. Sinafinal.

Salutations, Calli, said the other. I am Tuckerinal.

“Tuck’s my ex-hamster,” said Marian. “He’s a feycoocu like that one.” She pointed to Sinafinal.

I have given her my name so she can call on me at any time, said Sinafinal, my mated name.

Marian grinned and kissed Calli on the cheek. “Good morning. You should know that only a few people know Sinafinal’s name. Only Alexa and Bastien of the Marshalls. Only Jaquar and I of the Circlets.”

“Huh,” Calli said. Two minutes on the threshold of her room and stuff was overwhelming her again. Magical hamsters. Sheesh.

“You really are in a different dimension.” Alexa looked sympathetic. “You slept. Let’s go eat.”

“Try not to drop too many more bombs on me, huh?” Calli said. Alexa opened her mouth, closed it, but Calli figured they were probably thinking the same thing. In circumstances like these she’d be getting hit with strange problems every hour.

She ate in the richly paneled Marshalls’ Dining Room, set up like one of the fanciest restaurants she’d ever seen—pastel tablecloths on round and rectangular tables, embroidered in rich colors, with matching napkins. Crystal. Fine china.

She had a great breakfast of a cheese omelette, bacon and fluffy croissants, and chuckled to herself. Something French she was addicted to, the cowgirl loved croissants, one of the ways she chose her restaurants on the rodeo circuit. She’d eaten everything from preprepared, frozen, grocery store-bought croissants to flaky ribbons of pastry steaming from the oven.

These were prime.

“I guess we should tell her about the men,” Alexa said to Marian.

“Thank you, but I’ve learned about men all by myself.” Calli didn’t look up from her meal.

“What about men?” Marian sounded puzzled.

Calli caught Alexa’s gesture from the edge of her vision. She could feel the Marshalls’ gazes boring into her, their curiosity surging around her. The chief honcho, Thealia Germaine, sat at the long table a few chairs down from them, watching, as if trying to puzzle out their conversation. Calli knew if she bolted, Thealia would be on her and have her hog-tied in an instant. The Marshalls took a deep interest in her, the Chevalier Exotique.

“Lladranan men, like Faucon and Luthan,” Alexa said.

As she recognized the handsome Chevalier’s name she’d seen before, Faucon, a thrill zipped down Calli’s spine. Would she be in bed with him by the time night fell? “And I think I’ll know a lot about Lladranan men by tomorrow morning.” Did she actually say that?

Alexa snickered. Marian touched Calli’s shoulder. “This is important. A certain proportion of the Lladranan population find you—us—Exotiques, instinctively repulsive or attractive.”

“Might be pheromones.” Alexa bit into a slice of toast.

“Interesting idea,” Marian said.

“With your coloring, blond hair and blue eyes, you’re even more Exotique than either of us,” Alexa said.

Calli didn’t think so. Alexa was little and had green eyes, Marian auburn hair and blue eyes. “Faucon and Luthan?” Now that she recalled her meeting with Faucon last night in the stables, she remembered odd fluctuations in his aura. Was that why Bastien had moved him along, because Faucon was more blinded by her “Exotiqueness” than interested in her as a person?

“Faucon is attracted to Exotiques. Luthan, Bastien’s brother, is repulsed. You’ll work with both of them. They should be here this morning to meet you.”

“They are,” Marian murmured. She waved to three men who stood and approached.

“Who’s the third?” Calli asked.

“My brother Koz.” Marian hesitated. “His mind and soul and emotions are my brother Andrew in a Lladranan body.”

Calli thought her mouth dropped wide open. She didn’t know that she liked the idea of different bodies and souls.

Marian said, “It’s a long story. We should have just given you our Lorebooks. The Lorebooks of Exotique Alexa and the Lorebook of Exotique Marian, where Alexa and I wrote down our experiences.”

“Thank you, and that might have worked best for you and Alexa, but I liked, like, having things explained personally.” Calli turned her gaze to Alexa. “Thank you for being here. It’s been a great help.”

Alexa pinkened.

At that moment the guy wearing pure white leathers stopped, held himself stiffly, shuddered, then drew a deep breath. His lips thinned as if in anger and disgust and Calli knew Alexa was right. The man didn’t like that he had this response to Exotiques. That he was less than perfect? Or that he saw himself less than a normal Lladranan?

Faucon pulled ahead of the other two, a twinkle in his eye. At least he didn’t have a dumb-ass stupid dazed and infatuated look on his face. So he controlled his “innate attraction” to some extent, too. Interesting.

Koz caught up with Faucon. Luthan drew near more slowly.

When he and Koz neared the table, Faucon stepped in front of the other man, bowed and said the same thing he had the night before. “Prie introd moi?”

Alexa shoved back her chair and stood. Calli figured breakfast was over and swallowed her last luscious bite of croissant. She’d have to make sure the Chevaliers’ Dining Room in Horseshoe Hall had the same quality. And that idea about stopped her heart. She was planning.

For a life on Lladrana.

A teeny plan, but it had risen to her mind naturally and that was a little scary.

She put her utensils down carefully, then stood herself.

“Callista Torcher, I’d like to present Faucon Creusse, an excellent volaran rider and Chevalier. A wealthy, noble landowner and all-around great guy,” Alexa said.

Faucon took one of Calli’s limp hands and raised it to his lips. He brushed a kiss on the back and she felt a definite tingle and a couple of musical notes sounded in her head. Maybe things were looking up. He said something in a liquid, caressing tone. Since his eyes had heated, she thought it must be complimentary.

“Hey, ladies,” Koz said in accented English, jostling Faucon down a couple of seats. The other man scowled at Koz’s use of English.

Marian cleared her throat. Her aura was a little spiky. “Calli, my brother Koz Perrin, late of San Mateo, California. Koz, Calli Torcher of the Rocking Bar T Ranch, Colorado.”

He grinned, showing white, even teeth, and held out his hand as if to shake. Calli grasped his and felt a tiny stirring, a little “plink” like one key struck on a piano. “When you get your ranch here, you’ll have to call it the Flying Bar T.”

She laughed and shook his hand. She liked him.

Marian rose. Koz hugged his sister, ruffled her hair. “So, what’s up?”

“We’re going shopping in Castleton,” Alexa said. “Measuring Calli for several pair of leathers, some chain mail—it’s magically light—and buying whatever else strikes our fancy.”

“Man, here or there, women are all the same.” Koz grimaced. When Faucon asked a question, Koz turned to him and translated. Faucon put a hand on his heart and inclined his torso, speaking.

“Girls only!” Alexa said.

Koz smiled again. “Too bad.” But when he relayed the information to Faucon, that man sighed and sat at the table.

“Isn’t this the Marshalls’ Dining Room?” Calli asked, stepping into the aisle behind Alexa as she walked to the door.

“Yes, but Luthan is the representative of the Singer and wealthy. And Koz was looking for his sister, who is a Circlet and in the company of a Marshall,” Alexa said.

“So, I suppose I’ll also have a special dispensation to eat here, too.” Calli thought of the croissants.

“For sure.” Alexa smiled ironically. “I can promise you that the Marshalls will want to grill you from time to time.”

“Wonderful.”

Marian said, “Both Faucon and Koz will be at your Choosing.”

Calli swallowed, but she listened to the women’s stories of attraction/repulsion experiences and how Koz came to be Lladranan as they walked to the stables.

Calli had insisted on checking on Thunder and giving him a treat of a juicy apple. When he nuzzled her and she stroked his neck, breathing in the amber scent of volaran, ran a finger down some wing feathers, once again she thought she could accept this place.

“Shopping!” Marian called from outside the stables.

“I want to fly with you,” Calli whispered to Thunder. “But I don’t like the tack. I’ll order something different in town.”

He whickered. I am Volaran Valley born. I do not like the tack, either. Thank you. I love you.

With one last rub of his nose, she stepped away, blinking. Stupid tears. Her throat was tight, too. She repeated the image he’d sent to her of a beating heart. I love you.

Alexa kicked the dirt, sighed. “This mutual admiration society meeting done?”

Turning, Calli forced a smile and found it came easier than she’d thought at the wariness she saw on Alexa’s face when she looked at Thunder. “Hey, I’m the Exotique Summoned for the volarans. I know and love them, and they adore me.” She said it, knowing it was true.

“Yeah, yeah.” Alexa waved and took off at a brisk pace.

“What do you have against volarans?” asked Calli.

“I didn’t ride before I came.”

“City girl.”

“You got it. And since—” she scowled at the stables “—I’ve broken both my arms twice, I don’t care for flying. I. Fall. Off.”

“Oh.”

“I know you’re laughing.”

Calli cleared her throat. “Did it occur to you that you might have better luck with different tack?”

Alexa slanted her a surprised look. “City girl. No.” But she appeared to be considering, and her expression lightened.

Calli, Marian and Alexa walked from the stables through Horseshoe Close and the Chevaliers who were in the courtyard all stopped and stared at them, many bowing. Calli followed Alexa’s lead and nodded to them.

The walk down to Castleton was pretty and she found the town just that, an odd little place that wasn’t quite a city, definitely nothing like Old West ghost towns she’d seen, or the old center of modern Western cities.

“More like late Renaissance or early industrial age than medieval,” Marian said.

“You should know. But I wasn’t thinking in medieval terms, either. I want to visit a blacksmith and tack and saddle maker first,” Calli said.

“Okay,” said Alexa.

“Why don’t you have blacksmiths and artisans up at the Castle?”

“We do.” Alexa shook her head. “But the best live in the city. Don’t want to be under the Marshalls’ and Chevaliers’ thumbs, I suppose.”

“And there’s the fact that until a couple of years ago the Marshalls and Chevaliers usually lived on their estates—before the fence posts began to fall and the situation became dire,” Marian said.

Calli sucked in a deep breath. “You’d better tell me about these monsters.”

“We’ll take you to the Nom de Nom,” Alexa said.

“The what?”

“The tavern where the Chevaliers hang out.”

“Oh,” Calli said.

“It has trophies…heads and other body parts,” said Marian.

“Oh.” The hollow tone was back in her voice, along with a nice sick feeling in her stomach. “I’m going to have to fight these things, right?”

“Right. But I think you’ll find you’re a natural,” Alexa said. “We’ll train you…and when you Choose and Bond with a Lladranan, you’ll become a fighting pair. A Sword for offense and a Shield for defense.” Alexa tapped her chest. “I’m a Sword, Bastien is my Shield. I fight with magic and magical weapons. He protects me magically. Here’s the saddle maker, right next to the smithy.”

Neither of those places looked like anything Calli had ever seen, though the inside of the small shop smelled like fine leather and wood. She spent some time drawing what she considered the perfect saddle, hackamore and other tack for the craftswoman who kept darting fascinated glances at her. It took twice the time it should have since neither Alexa nor Marian knew the proper Lladranan words for such specific items.

All of them watched the blacksmith for a time. Marian and Alexa seemed to like seeing how he worked with metal and magic. The heat sizzled around them.

Squinting up at the sun, Calli wiped her sleeve across her forehead. She judged the time as late morning.

“She needs a cowboy hat. A Stetson!” Alexa cried. “We all need cowboy hats! Oh, yeah, I can see us now. The Exotique Gang.” She did a little boogie and her boots kicked up dust. Then she lifted a foot. “And some of those excellent cowboy boots, worked in patterns and colors and stuff. We need to show these people our cultural heritage!”

Calli and Marian laughed together, and it felt really good to laugh with other women.

Marian gestured to her robe. “Can you see me in a cowboy hat and this?”

“Well, it can’t be any worse than that hat Bastien designed, which is all the rage.”

“And Jaquar wears the original all the time and looks like a dweeb. All too true.” Marian shook her head.

“It’s time you get tailored leathers, Marian. A cowboy hat and boots would complete the ensemble.”

Calli nudged Alexa with her elbow. “You ever had a cowboy hat, city-girl lawyer?”

Alexa scowled. “No, but only because I could never find one to fit me.”

She was awfully small. “You could have had one made to order.” Calli didn’t say she could have bought a girl’s size.

“Yeah, like I had the dough.” Alexa snorted, then jingled money—zhiv—in her pockets and beamed. “But I do now. I’m not leaving this place until I order a cowboy hat!” She frowned. “You have any idea how they make them or the design dimensions or what, Calli?”

“I’ve worn them all my life, had a few droop with rain, freeze with snow and generally get trampled under hooves. I think I can give the hatmaker a good idea of what we want.”

“Good, off to the leathers tailor,” Alexa said.

“Combat cuirtailleur,” Marian murmured. Catching Calli’s expression, she said, “The fighting-leathers tailor.” Her lips quirked. “Naturally Alexa patronizes only the best.”

“Oh,” Calli said. She walked with them three abreast on sidewalks along a spacious street, until they reached a large shop with wide windows. There she got measured for several sets of leathers and her blood chilled as she thought of fighting. Marian stood by and translated for her.

Calli pointed to a pile of “leather” squares on the counter. “What are these?”

Alexa glanced at them, went over and inspected the stack, flipped through and shoved each square at Calli. “Soul-sucker,” a thick gray lizard-like skin. “Slayer,” yellow with long yellow fur and strange round bare spots. “Render,” thick, tough skin with a black pelt the consistency of steel wool. “Snipper,” something like Calli suspected rhinoceros hide to be. “Dreeth,” a fine, thin but incredibly strong skin of fine snakelike scales “Dreeth?” Alexa looked up at the old, wizened tailor. “Where did you get dreeth? And how much do you have of it?”

He bowed deeply. “Your Shield, Bastien, brought it in. We have an understanding.”

“Serves me right for not paying attention,” Alexa muttered.

“I will have the Chevalier Exotique’s leathers ready by this evening.” He bowed again.

“Please send them to me at the Castle,” Alexa said, “and put them on my account.”

“I’ll pay you back!” Calli said when Marian translated.

Alexa shrugged, smiled and replied in English. “A gift. Many people will be giving you gifts to get in your good graces. Expect something from the Citymasters and the Singer, too. Let’s head to the Nom de Nom for lunch.”

“You’ll love it,” Marian said and Calli couldn’t tell whether that was being sarcastic or not.