Читать книгу Keepers of the Flame - Robin D. Owens - Страница 12

Elizabeth waited for reactions. Marian sighed, shared a glance with the other women. Alexa dabbed at her lips with a napkin, folded it and stood. “We always go through this.” She cleared her throat, looked tentative. “I don’t want to step on toes, I only want to understand.” Her chin lifted. “I didn’t have much to go back to, so I settled here after the initial shock. Lladrana’s been good to me.”

Elizabeth felt her eyes widen. Bri’s mouth fell open. The woman had a long scar on her cheek. She’d said she fought monsters every week.

Bastien snorted, stood and stepped behind Alexa, wrapping his arms around her. His gaze was fierce. “She is beloved. She has a good estate, wealth which she did not have on Exotique Terre. She is,” he glanced at Marian and Calli, “you all are, the crème de la crème.”

“We’ve found our places in life.” Calli went to stand beside Alexa, took her hand. “I hadn’t planned on going back with the Snap, either, not after I bonded with Marrec, and certainly not after we adopted our child, children.” She smiled softly at her man. He lifted a shoulder and moved to hold her like Bastien held Alexa.

Alexa angled her chin at Marian. “That one was the one who kept saying she had to go back.”

“For Andrew, my brother with multiple sclerosis. And I did.”

“But you’re here,” Bri said.

“I brought him back with me. And he’s still here. After a fashion.”

Cold curled inside Elizabeth. She kept her voice mild. “After a fashion?”

Alexa grinned. “Since you’re both medicas you’ll be interested. His mind and, um, soul—” she glanced at Marian, who nodded “—were transferred to a Lladranan body.”

Wow! Bri’s thought echoed Elizabeth’s. Incredible. Bri said, “I’m not a medical doctor. Elizabeth is.”

Marian raised her eyebrows, obviously back to normal. “We saw you save last night.”

“She has a unique gift of healing hands,” Elizabeth murmured.

Blinking at Bri, Marian said, “So I would postulate that you studied alternative medicine. As I studied New Age subjects.” She crossed to the other side of Alexa, and still watching the twins, held out her hand. Alexa took it. Jaquar strolled behind her to stand with the other men, rested his hands on Marian’s hips.

“Choose an end,” Alexa challenged with a smile. “You’re supposed to be here.” Then her humor faded. “Bottom line, we need you. We’re sure the Dark is sending this disease somehow and we need you to find a cure.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “It isn’t that easy.”

“We know it isn’t,” Marrec said, his accent thick. “None of the Exotiques’ tasks were easy. But they prevailed.”

“We’re sorry for your problems, but we have loving parents who will miss us in two weeks,” Bri said, lowering the cake back into the cooler.

At that moment a long lilting strum came from the door. “Sevair Masif here,” said the deep voice of the city man.

Alexa hurried to answer, obviously glad of the interruption. “He’s been very patient, but he’s waiting for you two. The City and Towns were the ones who Summoned you.”

Marian and Jaquar did a little chant and the dishes and cutlery cleaned themselves and were stacked on the table. Elizabeth and Bri watched wide-eyed, then Bri hurried to put the casserole back into the chest and set the top back on it. She smiled. “Plenty of ice.”

“Bri, you can’t go out looking like that!” Jaquar sounded shocked.

All the women looked at him.

Marian said, “I would never have thought you to be a prude.”

He glanced at the other men as if for support. Bastien smiled blandly and replied in simple Lladranan that Elizabeth was beginning to understand, “She looks wonderful.”

Marrec leaned on the sofa and said in accented English, “I was in Co-lo-ra-do. In the summer. I saw bare legs.” He smiled reminiscently.

Calli blinked at him. “Oh, yes, I left you in the park when I went to the bank.”

Bri said, “Before I was in Denver, I was in Sweden, before that, Spain. But I’ve traveled a lot, I should have realized.” Now she smiled at the women, not nicely. “Can you do an instant clean on my clothes? The blouse is silk. Or do you have clothes for at least one of us?”

“Yes,” said Marian drawing herself up.

“Yes, what?” asked Bri.

Marian withdrew a finger-length stick from her pocket and with a flick of her wrist it turned into a wand. She pointed it at Elizabeth. A hot breeze hit her, rippled over her, shaking her clothes and leaving them with a fresh scent. Her panties had dried. But Elizabeth wasn’t too sure about the efficacy of magical clothes washing.

“Both,” Marian said. “I can cleanse your clothes, even while they’re on you, and we have clothes for you. Both of you.” She went into the bedroom and came back with two robes of dark red with white crosses on them. Medica tunics, one knee length, the other mid-calf. The shorter one buttoned tight around the wrist for several inches, so the sleeves didn’t get in the way of anything. The longer one had wider sleeves that came to the elbow.

Another heavy ripple of noise came from the door, obviously impatient. The knob turned and Sevair Masif strode in, followed by a hesitant person wearing the shorter medica robe.

“What is taking so long?” The tone more than his words held meaning. He stopped and stared at Bri. Blinked. Swallowed. A hint of red came to his cheeks. Bri sent him a grin, then slipped the tunic over her head and wiggled into it. The robe fell past her knees and she looked—marginally—like the other medica. Since the tight lower sleeves didn’t fit well over the thinner silk shirt, Bri rolled up the red sleeves and let the white show. It was a very Bri look: casual, rakish, elegant. Proclaiming to all that she leaned toward New Age. Elizabeth couldn’t imagine Bri in a proper nurse’s uniform. Meanwhile the medica was eyeing Bri’s style.

Elizabeth wasn’t about to add to the show. She looked at the remaining heavier robe with short sleeves. “Not one for each of us at all,” she said. “Two different robes.”

“One for each of you,” Marian said easily, “but in the two different styles that the medicas wear. This one is for traveling.”

Bri took the long tunic, and tossed it over Elizabeth’s head before she could protest, pulling it down over her Earth shirt and slacks, twitching it so it fell smoothly. The hem was long but the sides were cut high for easy movement.

Bri hummed in approval. “Looks good.”

Elizabeth had worn a cream-colored silk shirt and dark blue slacks to their father’s birthday party while Bri had worn stylish jeans and a turquoise shirt.

“It suits both of you,” Alexa said.

“Prie introd moi,” said Sevair.

“This is Sevair Masif, a City and Townmaster, a stonemason and excellent architect of Castleton,” Marian said.

He bowed. “Call me Sevair,” he said. Those were the last words Elizabeth understood of the long stream of sentences, except that the gist was splitting her and Bri up. One for the Castle medicas and one for the City? When she glanced at the medica, she had her hands folded at her waist and was nodding.

As soon as he finished, the medica launched into speech before Elizabeth could ask for a translation. The woman tapped her chest, gestured to the whole Castle, was impassioned. Elizabeth thought she spoke of facilities and training, or an exchange of training, while the man had spoken of need and duty.

The medica paused for a breath and Marian interrupted. “You’re not understanding much of this, are you?”

Bri said, “I lived in Cannes for two years and Elizabeth studied French and visited me.”

“But it’s not quite French, is it?” Marian said.

Everyone stared at them.

Bri looked at Sevair and the medica, inclined her head, and said. “Je ne comprehends pas.”

The medica sighed, looked at Marian.

“Just a drop of language potion,” Jaquar wheedled, drawing a tiny bottle from a pocket of his robe. It sparkled. “A drop would let you test it for a couple of hours.” He flashed a “Trust me, baby,” smile. “You’d be able to speak and understand Lladranan well.”

Elizabeth decided to let Bri handle this and kept her mouth shut.

Bri said, “How many medicas are there?”

“Five here at the Castle,” Alexa said, “the best in the country. The Marshalls can form a healing circle, too.” She shifted, appearing disgruntled. “Though none of us have been able to cure those with the sickness, like you did.”

“They are the Exotique Medicas,” Calli said. “They will have skills that the rest of us don’t. Like I can speak with the volarans, or you can handle that baton.”

Jaquar had strolled over to Bri, lifting a small cork from the bottle. Blinking, Bri could see that the pale lavender liquid inside sparkled a little, even in the tendrils that rose from the bottle. Really odd.

Jaquar waved it under her nose. It smelled wonderful, floral, like all the spring blossoms of a tree. She wanted another sniff, but since it was more like a craving, decided against it.

“Say something, Sevair,” Jaquar ordered—and it wasn’t in English, but sounded perfectly clear and not the mangled French Bri had had to concentrate to untangle.

“We,” Sevair gestured to the medica behind him, “have come to discuss matters. Since there are two Exotique medicas, it is only reasonable one stay here at the Castle and one come with me to Castleton.” Though he sounded as if he was reporting a compromise that didn’t please.

“Split us up!” Bri said, and realized she was speaking French—sort of.

The line between Sevair’s brows dug deeper as if he tried to understand what she said.

But Elizabeth was frowning, too. “What did you say, Bri?” she asked.

“They want to split us up. Send one of us away.”

“Yeah,” Alexa rolled her eyes. “All the way to Castleton. Two miles downhill.”

Bri felt her cheeks pinken. “Oh.”

“Two miles downhill from a Castle on a hill means walking two miles uphill for someone,” Elizabeth said.

“True,” said Bri.

Jaquar waved the vial near Bri’s nostrils again. Wonderful scent. She clenched her teeth, then said, “How much would give me language skills for the day?”

Marian’s gaze met Jaquar’s. She cleared her throat. “Language skills, ah. You might be interested to know that during sex there is a definite transfer of the language with your partner. That is to say, you’ll get Lladranan. They get English too, but there’s not much chance to practice it.”

Bri moved until she was shoulder to shoulder with Elizabeth. “We look like the easy types to you?”

Marrec shook his head. “No Exotique is easy. Not a one.”

“Pity,” said Bastien.

Jaquar said, “Two drops for today lasting perhaps until tomorrow noon.”

The medica stepped farther into the room and said something that escaped Bri. You understand that? she asked Elizabeth.

No. “Please translate,” Elizabeth said. She’d tensed up again.

The other Coloradan women shared a glance, grouped together and murmured a bit, then Marian looked at the twins and said, “She speaks in words and concepts that we are not sure of, even though we have done Song healing. Something about wanting to consult you about the rhythmic cycles of each energy point-pulse.” Marian didn’t look pleased that she didn’t get it.

Bri turned a little to Elizabeth. If I try, I can hear each chakra tune. Can you?

Elizabeth squinted, then a corner of her mouth lifted. Not really, but I can “see” different colors of swirling energy. I definitely see auras now, more than I ever did on Earth.

Chakra auras.

I suppose. Elizabeth held out her hand, and Bri clasped it. They looked at Marian. The sounds Bri heard merged with Elizabeth’s sight. Each chakra had a series of notes, a color, spun in a different pattern and to a different beat.

Now that you help, I CAN hear the notes. Probably what the medica was talking about, Elizabeth said.

For sure. And with our link I can see the chakras better than I ever could on Earth. The seven main ones and all the way to the thirteen. Bri felt Elizabeth scrutinizing the medica. We could learn from them, and teach them, too!

You got the parents’ teaching gene, Bri said. I think I’ll take a chance.

You always do, Elizabeth said.

Dropping Elizabeth’s hand, Bri went to Jaquar, who still held the small bottle. Now she wasn’t physically connected with Elizabeth, sounds were amplified and her aura sight dimmer. She reached and drew Power from the atmosphere, boosting her sight. Yep, easy to see auras. Jaquar had a shadow in several of his energy pulses, as if a lingering sickness was finally passing.

“What made you sick about a year ago?” she asked him.

He stilled, straightened to his full height. “I lost my parents. A Dark monster drained their Power and killed them.”

The room suddenly seethed with sorrow, anger, determination.

“He was sick with grief,” Marian said. “Almost mad with it.”

Jaquar grimaced.

“Those particular monsters, sangviles, especially like to kill people strong in Power,” Alexa said. “Like Circlets. Or Exotiques.”

Bri looked back to Elizabeth. They do need our help.

And they aren’t about to let us go before they get it.

“Two drops only,” Bri said, and stuck out her tongue.

Plink. Plink. Oddly enough, the taste wasn’t nearly as good as the smell. Bri wasn’t sure what she expected, a sweet honey like columbine perhaps, but she didn’t get it. She turned to the medica.

“Say that again.”

The medica nodded. “We believe this sickness was sent by the Dark in some way, but the symptoms are not the same for every patient. It affects the rhythm and Song of the different energy pulses of a person—chimes—but not the same chime.”

You get that? Bri asked Elizabeth. And they call a chakra a chime. Bri shrugged. Only natural in such a culture, I suppose.

But Elizabeth was staring at the medica, then Jaquar. Bri could feel her waves of curiosity. She stared at the vial. He offered it, and she sniffed, wrinkled her nose. Overly sweet, she said to Bri. But I know you liked the scent.

Elizabeth held up two fingers. “Two drops only.”

Jaquar nodded.

The tip of Elizabeth’s tongue peeked from between her lips. Jaquar carefully poured one drop, then a second.

I like the taste, Elizabeth said.

Speaking of taste, what do we do with the spuds? Bri went to the bags of potatoes and pulled out three of each, then said to Sevair, “Do you have botanists who’d study these? They’re a very good crop on Earth, called potatoes.”

She thought she heard Alexa moan.

“They are a delicacy,” Marian said to Sevair.

Sevair had pulled a folded bag from his pocket, snapped it, then opened it. The man was prepared. How depressing.

With a smile, Bri carried the potatoes heaped in her hands over to him and dumped them in the bag, then drew one back out. “You germinate them by the eye.” She pointed to one on the Idaho potato. “These are better baked, the others are better boiled.”

“That one is excellent fried. Deep fat fried,” Alexa said.

Now Marian whimpered.

Sevair lifted an eyebrow, took the potato from Bri, weighed it in his hand, glanced at Calli. “Your opinion?”

Calli smiled. “What you have there is about a thousand times more tasty than turnip fries.”

He looked surprised, then pleased. Nodding to Elizabeth, then Bri, he said, “Then you have something to barter with. However, I assure you that the Cities and Towns who Summoned you abide by tradition. You will receive property—an estate in the city or town of your choice—and enough money to support you for the rest of your days. Both of you.” He slipped the potato into the bag. “You will also receive a bounty on every plant that is developed from this po-ta-toe.”

He bowed to each of them. “I thank you both for accepting the language potion. It will make our tasks much easier. With your permission, I would like to adjourn to Temple Ward.”

Alexa was staring at the cooler and the potatoes.

“Where’s that guy who guarded them last night?” asked Bri.

“That would be my brother, Luthan,” Bastien said. “I don’t think we’ve spoken of Luthan.”

“Or Faucon for that matter,” Marian said.

Something else, here, Elizabeth said mentally to Bri as she walked over to stand in front of the chest, blocking it from everyone else.

Alexa’s wistful look turned into a pout. She speared Bri with a disgruntled gaze. “Luthan Vauxveau is a Chevalier, a knight who rides the flying horses, so flies into battle with us. He’s a wealthy nobleman with his own estate and the representative of the Singer, who is the prophetess of Lladrana, lives to the south in an Abbey, but meddles in our affairs.”

I don’t like that, said Elizabeth. We have enough to worry about with the people in this room.

I don’t either, Bri replied.

Alexa cleared her throat. “Some people have instinctive reactions to Exotiques. Either an instinctive revulsion or an instinctive attraction.”

“I’ll go for the attraction,” Bri said.

“That can be a problem, too,” Marian said.

Bri waved that away. “Better than the alternative. I’ve suffered from prejudice before. How nasty is this repulsion thing?”

“Bad enough to get you killed,” Bastien said. His usual optimistic expression had faded and turned grim, making him look like the warrior he was. “Alexa had to fight for her life.”