Authors: Robin D. Owens
"My pleasure, Lady Marshall."
Then he and his prime volaran disappeared from view.
She
hurt,
and wondered how in heaven she had gotten
emotionally tangled up with him in just one night. Maybe it wasn't just last
night. Maybe it had started even earlier...the night she saved him. A lot of
people believed that saving another's life formed a bond.
She
remembered
doing the deed, but it didn't seem that he
did. He'd
been out of it that night, so it wasn't surprising. Nothing in the land of
Lladrana would drag the fact that she'd saved his hide out of her. She couldn't
bear that he might feel a burden and look at her with forced gratitude.
But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that she
felt
something
for him—some emotion that she didn't want to scrutinize. Felt a bond to him,
more than to anyone else on Lladrana, even Sinafin—and just from sex. That was
scary. What sort of hold on her could he have through sex if he pursued this
affair? A
good
thing that he wanted to walk away—okay, face facts, he
was running away as fast as he could
, flying
away. Could he have used
magic on her? Since a black-and-white was supposed to have strange energies,
maybe he had bewitched her without meaning to. Not good for her.
Good that he was flying away home—Shit! His home was next to hers.
She muttered a few more Anglo-Saxon words at this turn of events, then
remembered he spent little time at his estate and more in the battlefield. She
didn't think he'd be knocking on her door to borrow anything, and she certainly
wasn't going to traipse over to his place.
Time to shove the emotions aside and skate on a flippant surface,
concentrate on shallow thoughts. She looked disgustedly at the dress he'd torn
off her. She had her breast-strip, and the panties she'd insisted on having
made, but she couldn't see slinking into the inn clothed only in underwear and
a cloak. Besides, she had liked the dress a lot. It was very comfortable and a
bright blue that flattered her very pale coloring.
She chewed her bottom lip and tried to recall a mending spell. It
was really a healing spell to be used on rent flesh, but it should work on
cloth too.
She started humming, remembered the three-note memory key to
prompt the spell. Then the whole tune came. With a tip of her
finger shooting jade energy, she ran it down the rip and
watched in great satisfaction as the fabric rewove itself. It only took a
minute, and such a small amount of energy, that she'd recharge it just by
walking back to the inn, drawing on earth energy.
It still amazed her that she could tap into energy from the natural
elements—earth, fire, water, even air sometimes, though that was the hardest
for her. There were a lot of cool things about magic and Lladrana—including
acceptable plumbing. Right now she really needed a shower.
She dressed quickly, descended the ladder. Volarans peeked over a
couple of stalls and whickered. She greeted them, then left the stables to step
into another gray day. Except for a couple of vacations, she'd always lived in
Denver, where the sun shone an average of three hundred days a year. This gray
weather wore on her nerves. But at least it wasn't raining.
When she reached her room, Sinafin sat in the middle of Alexa's
bed, a big, fat, white Persian cat. Sinafin grinned, a grin all the more
irritating because it was cat-smug.
Have a good night?
Sinafin purred.
"It was a great night. This morning hasn't been so hot."
Alexa stripped and ducked into the small corner bathroom, which held a shower
cubicle. Turning the water on hot and hard, she decided to spare her vocal
cords and communicate mentally with Sinafin.
I told you I don't like it when
you become Mrs. Morris's cat.
That cat had been the bane of her existence when she'd been
fostered by Mrs. Morris. Arguments about the cat had led to Mrs. Morris passing
Alexa on to someone else. Just as well. Mrs. Morris had treated the cat better
than any child she'd ever fostered—at least she'd given it more affection.
I felt like a cat this morning,
Sinafin said.
Great. Dumped by a one-night stand most gracelessly, and now stuck
with a snotty cat.
Where are the others?
I told them you were sleeping in. They are shopping for supplies
in the city.
Relief fluttered through Alexa. At least her humiliation wouldn't
be public. The water streaming over her refreshed her, cleansing her of the
sweat of man and sex. Good.
Where is Bastien?
Sinafin asked, purring
again.
Alexa snapped the faucets off, grabbed a towel to scrub her body
so only her own scent rose to her nostrils. She tromped into the bedroom.
Sinafin was lying on her back in the middle of the bed, front paws curled over
a fat stomach, back paws sticking straight up, looking at Alexa upside down.
Sinafin did cat very well.
"How did you know about Bastien?" Stupid
question—Sinafin knew everything. Alexa recalled Bastien's words. "Did you
use a befuddling spell?"
The cat didn't reply. Jeez, she really hated when Sinafin was a
cat.
Alexa asked, "Did you cast a spell on us to make love?"
Sinafin purred. No. /
would not flout your free will.
"Huh. Bastien's gone, taken off into the blue."
That got action. Sinafin rolled to a crouch, whipped her tail back
and forth, growled. She stared at Alexa, then her whiskers twitched and her big
blue eyes narrowed.
You corrected his energy stream. He will be very
powerful now.
"Good for him." Alexa dug out her brush, went to a
mirror and pulled it through the tangles of her hair.
He is good for you too.
"The operative word here is
was.
Past tense."
God, she was glad she could talk to Sinafin and use a large vocabulary, not
halting, short words in Lladranan. "We
had
great sex. He
was
a
wonderful lover. He
was
a...jerk this morning. He couldn't get away from
me fast enough." That sounded like a whine. She would not whine over a
man, especially a man she'd known so briefly.
Everything about him was past tense. She had to get a grip. One
night of hot sex and adieus shouldn't wind her up like this, even if she'd
never before had a one-nighter.
Sinafin leaped off the bed to cross over to a chest under the bay
window, craning her head to look outside.
He is gone.
"Told you so." Now that felt good. Telling off Mrs.
Morris's cat and having the damn thing know what Alexa meant. Alexa pulled from
her bag her "longies," the shirt and tights worn under chain mail,
and put them on.
The cat turned back to her, stared at Alexa, then back out the
window.
There is a melody spinning between you.
Alexa shrugged. She didn't think so.
He will be back.
Alexa snorted. "See if I care." But she'd decided.
"I'm tired of traveling. It's time we return to the Castle." She was
ready to study hard, fight hard, win her place in this world, prove to
everyone, including a sweet-loving, hardheaded man, that she was the best
Exotique ever Summoned.
Joan of Arc step aside, Alexa had hit town.
S
he trained and studied determinedly. When the alarm that called
the Castle to arms clanged, she took the Field on horseback—four times the
first week. She worked with a Sword and Shield team as an extra Shield,
learning all the defensive tricks. Oddly enough, working with Mace and his lady
was the easiest on everyone. Unsurprisingly, Reynardus refused to link with
her.
Alexa also Paired with various Chevaliers. She and Luthan were a
competent but uninspired team. She thought she'd have trouble connecting
mentally with the man—son of Reynardus and brother to Bastien—but the bond was
smooth and comfortable.
After the battles, Alexa walked the land and examined the
fenceposts—those fallen and dead and those still pulsing with vitality. The
inert ones were interesting to look at, but told her nothing. When she touched
the live ones, there was something about them that she almost recognized, like
an answer to a test question lurking in the back of her brain. And like such an
answer, it couldn't be forced.
In her rooms at night she studied the Lorebook of Fenceposts, read
each word for hidden meaning. She looked at the pictures—excellent drawings of
individual fenceposts. The battlefields were familiar—near the gray-green
ocean, or with mountains towering in the background, dotted with trees, oak,
brithenwood and pine.
One morning during her second full week back, Alexa sat
cross-legged on a thick pile of carpets in a small chamber with her magical
professor, Madame Fourmi. Alexa was pretty sure she'd progressed from Magic 101
to Advanced Spelltuning. Of her various lessons, magic was her favorite, mostly
because it was less "kill" oriented. Learning to ride a horse wasn't
too bad either, except that it made her body hurt, and she'd much rather have a
headache or energy drains from magic than an aching body.
To add a surface familiarity, she'd made up names for the other
classes—Learning to Be a Marshall (Shield Defense), Teamwork with Marshalls and
Chevaliers (Level Two), and The Language of Lladrana. She still disliked the
language lessons the most, though she was progressing satisfactorily, up to a
C+.
"Very well, Alyeka, breathe deeply and center yourself,"
Madame said now, giving her standard instructions.
Alexa could take three breaths and fall into a light trance where
logic didn't whisper that magic was crap and where she could access her magical
energies. This was the best state in which to learn the skills she needed.
She met Madame's eyes. "I'd like to ask a couple of questions
and see if we can't solve a problem that's bothering me."
Madame looked intrigued. Alexa had gone along with the syllabus
until now.
"Ayes?"
"Is there a process where I could lock away some memories or
emotions so they don't affect me?" She'd had some miserable nights
dreaming of Bastien. He had revived her interest in sex all too well, but she
sure didn't need to relive again and again the humiliation of their last scene.
Not to mention the nightmares where she fought monsters and awoke in a cold
sweat.
"Are you speaking of fear? Being an intelligent woman, you
must realize there are good reasons for fear."
Yeah, it triggered adrenaline to prepare her body for combat, and
she didn't like it, but she'd sure use it. She chose her words carefully.
"I am most concerned with the rejection I feel when I meet
certain Lladranans. Occasionally it is instant revulsion on their part. I can't
change what they feel, but I can change my reaction. When this occurs it
distracts me. If it happens on the battlefield it could be fatal." She'd
thought up her logic beforehand.
Madame pursed her lips, but there was a softening in her eyes.
She'd have heard how a Marshall had attacked Alexa and been killed the first
night she was on Lladrana.
"Ayes, there is a way to do this—to separate the emotional
content of memories, or use a keyword to set aside emotional reactions.
"Good!" What was the use of magic if it couldn't enhance
her life?
Tapping a finger to her lips, Madame considered Alexa. "You
know, there was once an Exotique who was Summoned who disliked looking alien so
much that over the course of several years he was able to gradually change the
color of his skin and his eyes. Even his bone structure. Would you want to do
this?"
"Ttho!" She wasn't any beauty, but was happy with her
appearance, even her prematurely silver hair. She just got tired of the stares,
hated the revulsion, and would gladly tuck Bastien's rejection into a lockbox
deep inside and throw away the key.
"Very good." Madame nodded approval.
"Very good" had been her highest praise so far, though
if she hadn't been a good teacher and Alexa hadn't respected her, Alexa would
have asked for someone else. She didn't think they'd ever be friends, but they
got along well enough. Alexa would have added her to her holiday card list with
some of her other profs.
With a tilt of her head, Madame said, "We might also consider
a small spell rather like a 'glamour.' It would initially make you more
'likable' upon first impression, then gradually wear off as the individual came
to know you."
Madame rubbed her hands. "A challenge. I knew you would be a
challenge, Alyeka." She smiled widely. "Of course, if a person took a
dislike to you, it would not sway them." She slipped back into her
standard serious mode. "As for those who...have an extreme reaction to
you, we can prepare your response, and I will teach you how to separate your
emotions from the memory. But I believe it would be wise for you to know of
their repugnance and be on guard."
"Yeah, shurr," Alexa replied, knowing her speech sounded
slurred. Hearing and comprehending Lladranan was much better since sex with Bastien,
but her speech still fluctuated.