Protector of the Flight (11 page)

“Huh!”
Calli said.

“The
upside is that we’re very close. Neither of us are lonely. We’re partners in
the truest sense of the word.”

“The
downside?” Calli asked.

“We’ll
die at the same time,” Marian said.

Alexa
stood and paced the room, hand on her baton. Finally she turned and skewered
Calli with a gaze. “You want to be a horse-volaran trainer. That’s doable. You
want land. That’s easy, too. But there must be something more, some bigger
reason that the Song resonated with you and called you and made you a perfect
person for Summoning. An emotional reason. What do you
really
want,
Calli?”

The
demand had words slipping from her mouth, “To be loved.” She had to look away
from the two very beloved women while heat painted her cheeks, her neck, even
her ears hidden under her hair. Hell, she hadn’t blushed in a long, long time,
and now she had twice in one day. She decided to continue with brutal honesty.
“And to have a family of my own. Children of my own.” Pretending not to see the
glance exchanged between the other two, she upended her mug, drank and set the
mug aside. “And even Lladrana and all its medicas can’t give me children. The
infection from one of the surgeries took my ovaries.”

“It
isn’t common that Lladranan and Exotique couples produce children,” Alexa said.
“I don’t think Bastien and I will ever have any.”

Calli
whipped her gaze to Alexa, then to Marian. “Your guy, Jaquar, he has blue
eyes—”

“Yes,”
Marian said. “He has some Exotique blood in his lineage. Whose or when, we
don’t know.” Her aura spiked green.

“Bastien
and I will just have to adopt,” Alexa gave Calli a direct look. “Wouldn’t that
be good enough for you? Or being a cowgirl you gotta have the right equipment
and bloodlines and breeding and all that jazz?”

No.
It was as if a
note had echoed throughout her being. She didn’t
have
to give birth to
children of her own. Children who loved her would be enough. Feeling
uncomfortably vulnerable, Calli said, “Drop it.”

“If
you want pedigree—” Alexa swept a hand around them “—you’re out of luck. You’ve
landed in with a motley crew. I don’t know my ancestors, grew up in foster
care. Bastien’s a black-and-white, which can mean mentally handicapped, and his
father was an asshole.”

“My
mother’s a bitch,” said Marian. “My brother’s a jewel, though.” She looked
thoughtful. “He came with me…sort of…If you don’t reject the Choosing and
Bonding ceremony, he might be right for you. The Song might have led him here
for you.”

“She
should stick with Faucon Creusse. Noble, rich, sexy and handsome.” Alexa
wiggled her brows. “What’s not to like?”

“Tell
me about the Claiming and Bonding ceremony,” demanded Calli. She’d backed up
against the bar.

“That’s
what we were getting at. Magic…Power…the Song, choosing the right guy for you.”
Alexa waved her hands.

“You
want love?” Marian joined Alexa to face Calli. “What if I told you there’s a
surefire way to find the right man for you? Your soul mate?”

Calli’s
heart thumped hard. A man who would love her. A man she would love. Was she
really ready for that, despite what she yearned for most?

Marian
spread her arms wide, and the gesture emphasized the rich robe she wore, the
Circlet around her forehead, the expensive surroundings. “What do you want,
Calli? True love? There are plenty of Chevaliers ready to bond with you—men and
women of like mind with you. Land of your own? You’ll get it.” She laughed a
little. “Children? Unfortunately Lladrana is like Earth…there are abandoned
children you can make into a family. Volarans? I think you can have as many
volarans as you want.”

“They
are their own,” Calli protested, but vividly recalled the horse bodies pressing
against her.

She’d
never be lonely again.

She
remembered the Map Room, the unclaimed land.

She
thought of Faucon Creusse, all too willing to be her lover at any moment.
Already. That was a little scary. He had to want her just because of
what
she was and not who she was. He didn’t know her.

But
this notion was a little tempting, too. A magical ceremony could bring her a
guy? Some sort of matchmaking deal? Intriguing. Especially since after her
disastrous illusions about her father, she didn’t trust her own judgment worth
spit.

She
thought of children. With a big ranch, she could have many.

Finally,
an image of a flying volaran herd circled in her mind’s eye. Wings of all
colors, equine faces looking to her. She could almost hear the wind rush
through thousands of feathers.

When
she glanced at Marian and Alexa, they were glowing with the golden aura of
love. Love given and received with their men. Friendship love between them.
They liked her already; could they become good friends? With these women there
would be no competition between them, no moving around that meant brief and
broken ties, like in the rodeo.

The
room wavered before her as if behind a rich haze. She’d be rich and valued and
respected and would own land. And love would come into her life.

Grabbing
her mug, she filled it again and went to a wing chair. “What about this magical
ceremony?”

8

T
he sound of
strumming strings came once. “That’s the doorharp,” Marian said.

Calli
remembered seeing something like half an egg slicer mounted on the door.

When
the door opened a huge man and much smaller woman entered. Just the sight of
their strong, intertwined aura had Calli sitting down on a little sofa,
blinking. They brought music with them. It was the strongest tune she’d heard
from people, truly a Song with a capital S.

Alexa
introduced the two Marshalls as Mace, the arms master, and his wife, Clua, who
was a battle strategist.

“You
know, Calli, it would be much easier if you took just a
drop
of the
potion,” Marian said, pulling the little bottle from her robe pocket.

Calli
wondered if it was the same bottle or if she and Jaquar had concocted a large
batch. She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Silvery
laughter came from Clua. Mace stroked his wife’s hair. They were still holding
hands. With a kiss on their linked fingers, the woman walked toward Calli, face
welcoming, hands outstretched.

Their
aura didn’t break apart, but stretched, and in stretching, remained the same
deep gold color and thickness. It was as if wherever they went singly, they
would still keep the same strong and intimate connection with each other.
Awesome.

Automatically,
Calli took Clua’s hands.

An
image of a calendar flipped pages going
back.
Years. Calli was swept
into the past,
experiencing
the Choosing ceremony of Clua and Mace.

The
first thing she noticed was that she felt woozy, dizzy. A hand—her hand?—passed
a goblet to someone and she noticed an aftertaste in her mouth. Another emotion
swept her, anticipation at the Choosing, then, as she looked around a large
room with stone walls—her Power amplified. Her eyes were sharper, her eardrums
nearly exploding with the loud tangle of personal Songs.

She
looked down at a table at a variety of items. A beret—nothing Calli had seen so
far in this world, old-fashioned?—a quill pen, a book, a small carved volaran,
a locket, a chain with keys, a brooch. She touched each and received
impressions of the person who’d placed it on the table. Each time, she saw a
colored link connecting the person to the object. Sometimes that connection was
a thread, sometimes a cord. Once a chain. Just as the melodies she heard varied
in strength and prettiness—a whisper of a tune too simple to please; a loud,
intricately layered Song that
pulled
at her, awakened feelings deep in
her core.

Her
hand hovered over a locket. An oblong thing of gold, inset with black with a
diamond in the center. She brushed her fingers across it and felt a surge of
desire, longing,
belonging
from it. Looking up, she saw a huge young man
dressed in a short velvet robe and tights, arms crossed, staring at her. She
couldn’t look away.

He
was too big, too tough, too sophisticated for her.

Forcing
herself to withdraw her fingers, she turned to the other tokens.

Nothing
felt as
right
as the locket.

Time
telescoped and Calli was able to distance herself a bit from the experience and
feel the woman’s fingers clamped over hers in the here and now.

She
watched as if hovering outside of herself—like she’d done in a couple of the
surgeries—while Clua tested each item time and again, then finally listened to
the rush of her blood and heart and bone and took the locket.

A
shout of celebration rose from many voices—her family—and Mace literally leaped
over people to claim her.

Clua
let go of Calli’s hands. Calli staggered back to sink onto the sofa. “Oh. My.
God,” she said, even as she heard the Marshalls leaving, Clua chuckling.

“Wow,”
said Marian, sitting beside her. “Tell us what happened. Magical ritual, right?
From what I can tell, I don’t think Clua ever wrote down the story for the
Lorebook of Choosing and Bonding. She hadn’t ever met Mace before, that I
have
heard. But for the record, I’ll need every detail from you!”

“Marian,
shut up,” said Alexa, wriggling in on Calli’s other side. It was a tight fit.
Alexa stroked her back and the affectionate caress seemed to draw the stunning
magic from Calli until she breathed steadily again. “Calli, you need to watch
out how you touch people,” Alexa said.

“Tell
me about it.”

“Sometimes
they don’t mean to sucker punch you, sometimes they do, but we’ve all had an
experience like that.”

Marian
said, “I still want to hear every detail. What were the circumstances? Did the
Choosing work? Well, duh! Obviously. How did it work? Was the magic very
strong?”

“Yeah,”
Calli said, shaking off the last of the weird feeling that she was living two
lives in two different times. She rubbed her face, then dropped her hands and
straightened to glare at Marian. “I’ll be
drugged!
”

“I
promise you, you’ll be fine,” Marian soothed. She went to a bookshelf and curved
her fingers around empty air, hummed a few notes. A thin book appeared in her
hands. “This is the English version of the Lorebook of Exotiques. I’ve got the
recipe here, all herbs we know except for one.” She flipped pages as she walked
back. “And I’ve had that particular herb twice in larger amounts than you’ll
receive. I’m still here, alive and kicking.” She found the entry and handed the
book to Calli. “Look for yourself.”

Calli
did. “Cinnamon, nutmeg, mugwort, bay. Rose petals?”

Marian
nodded.

Staring
at the page she saw another ingredient. “Centauriana,” she murmured. Another
horse word. Almost like a sign.

Calli
felt as if a stampede had galloped right over her. “I need to go to bed.”

“Can
I tell the Chevaliers that you’ll go through with the Choosing and Bonding
ceremony tomorrow afternoon?” Alexa pressed.

Exhaustion
dropped on Calli like a thick horse blanket, smothering logical thought. Her
vision blurred. When she blinked, everything still seemed out of focus.
Sounds—more,
music
—enveloped her, running through her mind, preeminent
among the strains was the tune of the Marshall Pair. They’d been so obviously a
couple, obviously in love, and after many years. They believed in the Ritual.

Blinking
again, she stared at Alexa and Marian who waited for her decision. Tonight both
of these women would go to bed with men who loved them, were committed to them.

Loneliness
ate at Calli, along with envy. A matchmaking ritual. The idea tempted. Her own
judgment was lousy, and Alexa and Marian had found their loves on Lladrana, so
why couldn’t she? What she’d seen of the couples, here…And magic
worked.
What the hell. Why not? What did she have to lose? “Sure, set it up.”

They
smiled and came toward her, hugged her and the three of them linked and a huge
Song filled Calli’s ears and traveled to her heart.

“The
Song of Colorado women,” Marian whispered.

“See
you tomorrow morning,” Alexa said. Both women left their arms around Calli’s
waist.

Marian
said, “Remember you aren’t alone. We’re here to help every step of the way.
Don’t panic.”

“Just
yell and we’ll come running.”

“Huh.
Sounds like you’re trying to tell me something,” Calli said.

“
I
panicked,” Marian said.

“I
did, too, especially when I saw my hair turned white overnight.”

Sleepiness
fled. Calli looked down at Alexa. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Then
Calli studied the wide silver streak in Marian’s hair. “I suppose you didn’t
have that when you came, either?”