Authors: Robin D. Owens
It brought tactile sensations too. The warmth of the chinook wind
in February, a cashmere sweater she'd once touched in one of her foster homes,
cornsilk.
Music.
The real music, the crash of Beethoven's Fifth, the beat of rap,
the zing of zydeco, the horns of jazz and holiday tunes and triumphal marches.
The Song of Mother Earth's core-beat that called to her own blood, the beat of
her own heart.
Everything, every sensory memory, overwhelmed her.
The Snap.
"Nooo!" she heard someone scream harshly.
It had sounded like Bastien, only his voice held a note she hadn't
heard. She tried to turn her head but couldn't.
Rough arms grabbed her, shook. "Hold on to me! See me! Take
ME!" she thought she heard. The words made no sense.
Instead,
she focused on the vision of the
lovely house and children and a
caring man—of
black judge's robes.
But they were all wrong. Her body shuddered and she sucked in deep
breaths and with them another Song, fractured and frail, weeping and calling to
her. Her house was redbrick, not fake half-timber. She had no children, but
friends and horses and beautiful winged creatures called volarans and a funny,
wonderful shape-shifter. She didn't wear black judge's robes. She wore fighting
leathers of a dreeth she had killed with her own hands—and wielded a magical
baton, not an authoritative gavel.
The man was all
wrong.
He was caring, not loving. Their sex
was good but not desperate and consuming. He gave tenderness and support, but
she could have that
and
love. She could have
more.
She could have a man she Paired with, fought with, loved
passionately. She could have a land that was strong and free because of her
actions.
She could save a land and save lives. She was
needed
here.
In Lladrana she had been and would continue to be the difference between life
and death, for people and for the land.
The cost could be very, very high. No children. A short life.
Horror and fear and pain.
The reward was immeasurable.
She grabbed on to Bastien.
Mother Earth's Song diminished, faded and left a last blessing of
the taste of Assam tea.
Amee's Song sighed, and wept, and flowed through her and claimed
her as one of her own.
Alexa collapsed onto Bastien. The world steadied and she found
herself clutched closely to his chest, hearing the rapid pounding of his heart.
She looked up and he was blurred behind her own tears. She blinked and let the
tears roll down her cheeks.
"The Snap," she said.
He squeezed her until her bones creaked. "I know." His
voice was thick and muffled. "I know. I love you, Alexa. Stay with
me."
She hugged him back with all her strength. He felt solid, good and
wild in her arms. Wow. "I love you too, Bastien. I'm here for good. Here
in Lladrana."
She turned in his arms, saw the Marshalls and Chevaliers watching
her, eyes wide, obviously understanding what had occurred.
Thealia looked at her colleagues. No one moved. Her mouth twitched
in impatience and she hurried to Alexa. "The Snap."
When Alexa took a step from Bastien, her knees faltered. He set his
hands on her hips to steady her, but didn't constrain her. She lifted her hands
to run them through her hair, lift it from her scalp and dry the perspiration
of her head.
She smiled at Thealia, past Thealia to Partis and the others, and
called, "The Snap has come and gone and I am still here. I will remain
here in Lladrana."
More Songs entwined her, the threads of connections to the
Marshalls, each individual and the Pairs, notes and links to Chevaliers with
whom she'd worked so closely. From each came an uplifting gladness that she'd
stayed, a tune of friendship. For her, Alexa Fitzwalter.
Welcome home,
said Sinafin.
GUARDIAN
OF HONOR
ISBN:
978-1-4268-4734-9
Copyright
© 2005 by Robin D. Owens
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