Echoes in the Dark (39 page)

As
Jikata had been cultivated and pampered to be useful.

When
Luthan stepped out of the shadow of large trees—and how had he managed to hide
wearing that pristine white?—she knew a sense of inevitability. A handsome
white knight, followed by
two
volarans, one of which might be for her.
It only needed this to be a European fairy tale.

Or a
standard story of a quest against great odds.

28

C
hasonette
whistled a ripple of bright notes of welcome and Jikata’s jaw flexed. This was
why her companion had disappeared. Scanning the man up and down, Jikata
couldn’t complain.

They
met at the edge of the forest. He bowed, but kept his dark brown gaze on hers,
tilted his head as if listening hard to her personal Song. Then he relaxed.
“Salutations, Exotique Singer.”

She
could understand him. She bowed. “Salutations, Luthan Vauxveau.”

He
turned to the large white volaran. “This is my companion, Silver Lightning
Spearing into the Dark Mountain. I call him Lightning.”

Intelligence
was in those eyes. More than a horse, less, she thought, than human. Or very
different than human. She didn’t know how different they were temperamentally
from Earth horses, but they still had eyes on the side of their heads—prey
animal eyes. She dipped a bow. “Salutations, Lightning.” The lilt of his name
came naturally, matching his personal Song.

The
other stallion pranced forward. He was a beautiful buckskin color with dark
mane and tail, wings a golden brown edged in darker brown. Stunning.

“This
volaran was sent by the alpha mare for you, Exotique Singer. He is, simply,
Hope.”

Fabulous.
Jikata held out her hand and fell in love. They didn’t have hair but tiny
feathers on their hide. Their wings were made of varying sizes and lengths of
feathers. They looked horselike but were not. Their wings were angled across
their shoulders, making a perfect place to ride, with legs before or behind the
wings. Maybe even two people could ride, though the volarans were smaller than
Earth horses.

“Now
we’ve been introduced, I’d like to know your plans,” Luthan said with an
intensity that let her know she’d better
have
plans, otherwise they’d be
following his.

She
smiled. “I was going to the next town to hire a horse or a carriage or a
volaran.”

His
brows went up. “You have zhiv?”

“I
have jewelry.”

Nodding,
he said, “That would do. Where do you think this transportation—had you been
able to find a stables or get one from the local noble—would take you?”

She
widened her eyes. “Why, through Lladrana.” She glanced around. “From what I
see, it’s lovely.”

“It’s
the most beautiful place on Amee, here in the south the land is very pretty.
The north is mountainous. All but one of our Exotiques…you know of the
Exotiques?”

“Ayes.”

“All
but one is from a place with mountains, and you?”

“Originally.
And you?”

He
appeared surprised, then his smile flashed and it warmed his expression, hinted
that his eyes could be lively. “I have a manor close to here, a few miles,
should you care to visit?”

“Perhaps.
So you’re a southerner?” She didn’t know what that meant here.

His
face closed again. “The main family estate I inherited is north of the
Marshalls’ Castle.” Again testing her knowledge?

“Which
is in central Lladrana. I’ve seen a map.” Her own lips curved. “Plenty of
interesting maps.”

Lightning
pawed the ground, removing a divot of rich black earth.
Too much
talk…bird…castle.
He said something more but Jikata didn’t catch it. The
volaran spoke more in images, feelings, than in words, and the words weren’t
pronounced by the volaran mind the same way they were by the human tongue.

Jikata
frowned. “Sorry?”

“Lightning
is impatient. He wants to fly, though we came from the Castle this morning,
using Distance Magic.”

She
straightened, tapped her bag again. “I recently received some Lorebooks. I’ve
read Alexa’s and part of Marian’s, so I’ve heard of Distance Magic and of
flying on volarans.” She gave him a smile. “She flew with you…and Lightning.”

Ayes!
Lightning’s
affirmative came in Jikata’s mind, along with a small, silver-haired woman.

Luthan
nodded. “Calli has ingrained the idea that we ‘partner’ with the volarans.”

“Ah.”

“Lightning
and Hope would like to know if you plan on going to the Marshalls’ Castle.”

There
was that word again, “plan.” Though she’d left the Singer’s Abbey, a lot of
other people would have plans for her.

“What
if I said I wanted to see the city of Krache?”

Lightning’s
ears pricked forward, and he whinnied in excitement. A city of square buildings
and steep spires flashed in her mind.

Luthan’s
brow lined. “I wouldn’t recommend Krache for an Exotique new to Lladrana, but
we would accompany you.” She heard a rapid beat as if calculations marched in
his mind.

“However,”
Jikata continued smoothly, “I had planned to make a slow journey to the
Marshall’s Castle. Now that I don’t have to worry too much about being followed
and taken back to the Singer’s Abbey.” Her gaze surveyed his wide shoulders,
the muscularity of his body. He was a Chevalier, a fighter, no one—no group—of
Friends from the Abbey would prevail against him.

He
bowed. “I am at your service. I will protect you with my life.”

He’d
said it simply, but it rang like a vow, and the air and Songs around them
stilled for a moment. Red sparks of vision coalesced in front of her, she heard
the distant shrill of Chasonette’s cry, the stamping of the two volarans, but
that didn’t stop the prophecy.

They—she
and Luthan and the volarans—were circling down toward a smoking volcano. What
she could see of Luthan’s face within the helmet was grim and determined…and
she saw herself, dressed in strange Chevalier leathers, too. Helmeted, too.
Determined, too.

Her
mouth was open and she was Singing and she knew it was a great Song, and that
the moment they plunged was the climax of her life.

Then
the vision haze vanished and she saw Luthan, standing straight, feet braced,
hand entwined in Lightning’s mane, face nearly as grim as in the vision. He
blinked.

She
said, “You can see prophetic visions, too.”

His
chest rose with a deep breath and he nodded. Rustily, he said, “I will…help…you
with your gift of prophecy.”

She
tilted her head. “You sound uncertain of that.”

He
met her eyes squarely. “It is my gift, too, though not as great as yours. Not
something I ever wanted, and that I usually suppressed.”

Jikata
nodded. “I know about that. On Earth—Exotique Terre—I mostly suppressed it.”
Her face stilled. “The Singer didn’t allow that.”

“Of
course not. The Singer has definite ideas about what should and should not be
done.” He scanned the area. The Abbey was out of view, but Jikata believed he
was extending his senses to see if anyone was checking on her…or him, the
Singer’s representative.

“They
haven’t missed you yet. Good.” He gestured to her stallion—a very male “Hope”;
and Jikata would have to get used to that name—and said, “Perhaps we should
progress.”

She
went to Hope. “Salutations, Hope. May I admire your beauty?” She rubbed his
forehead, then ran a hand down his neck, along his back to his rump and dock,
walked around him. He stood perfectly still but shifted his stance to one of
pride.

I
beautiful. Very status large.

Luthan’s
volaran, Lightning, snorted.
Because you fly with
her,
the Exotique
Singer, not because you have proven yourself in battle.
Lightning formed
each word/image/feeling better, as if he’d already learned Jikata’s speech
limitations.

Hope
grumbled but said nothing.

“We’d
better get going,” Jikata said lightly, and swung into the saddle. It was
comfortable and she’d already noticed that the volarans had no bits, but only
thin halters.

The
sound of Hope’s Song increased and flickered through her, then his mind was
there,
next to hers. An easy mind.

“Ride
first,” Luthan said.

“So
you can see my form?” she asked, leaning over and patting Hope’s neck, staring
down at his beautiful wings. She wished she had boots.

Luthan
raised his brows. “Exactly. I want to see your form.”

She
chuckled, and said
Run!
to Hope and he took off to angle down a long
meadow. The wind whipped through her hair and she couldn’t suppress a cry of
glee. So wonderful! And it had been so long. Why hadn’t she made time for
horses in her life?

But
a horse would never be as lovely as Hope. He turned, and with lifted wings, ran
back to Luthan and Lightning, who had not moved, though Luthan had mounted his
volaran.

“So
you can ride,” Luthan said. His seat was such that he looked as if he’d spent
much of his life on horse—volaranback. Not even her rancher lover had looked as
well in the saddle.

Mmmm.
She caught the hum of pleasurable attraction in her throat before it rose to
her lips. Though when his mouth quirked she supposed that he’d heard something
in her Song that betrayed her interest.

We
well-matched.
Hope pranced in place and tossed his head.

“Indeed,”
Luthan said. “Interesting. Four of the seven Exotiques Summoned were horsewomen
before they were Summoned.”

“I
know from her Lorebook that Alexa didn’t ride,” Jikata said. “Who else?”

“Raine
and Elizabeth.”

“Ah.
The one who returned home. I have her Lorebook.”

Luthan
slanted her a glance. “Of course. Who do you think obtained those volumes for
you?”

“Oh.
Of course.” She inclined her torso.
“Merci.”

“You’re
welcome.”

“Shall
we ride?” He smiled. “Slowly. North toward my manor?”

Jikata
studied him. “You’re the Singer’s representative. Won’t you take me back?”

No,
he said
mentally.

She
heard his voice in her mind, easily, clearly, as if they were on the same
wavelength.

I
am not the Singer’s representative, though I have not formally turned in my
resignation.

Ttho?
she questioned.
But she knew he didn’t lie. There was more than a “ring of truth” in his mental
voice, it was as if he were incapable of lying telepathically. She listened
closely, finally decided that it was the background lilt of his mental voice,
as pristine as his clothing.

Ttho.
I did not want to tell the Singer I was done with her until you were out of the
Abbey in case you needed me,
he said simply.

She’d
heard him called an honorable man and knew it was true. Knew everything he’d
said was true. He would protect her with his life, had determined to do that
long before he said the words to her. Had done so from the moment they’d met
when she’d been Summoned.

Merci,
Chevalier Luthan Vauxveau.

He
smiled again and her heart twinged. She’d met plenty of good-looking men here,
but all had been Friends and usually devoted to the Singer. Not one of them had
had appreciation of her as a female in the back of their eyes.

She
stretched a little—physically, mentally and emotionally—when she saw his look,
then let her lips curve. She was free of the Singer’s constraints. “Won’t the
first place they look be your home? And won’t the Singer call on you to find
me?” She shifted in her saddle, a cue to Hope to proceed, and he lightly
stepped through the meadow northward.

Luthan
shrugged. “Perhaps.” He and Lightning turned to join them. “But since you want
to see the countryside, we will need provisions and shelter.”

“Shelter?”

“A
tent. I have one with three rooms.”

Jikata’s
mind went from the image of green canvas to a parti-colored medieval tent. She
realized she was right when she received a mental picture from Lightning and
Luthan of a campground with many tents in all colors dotting it. Then one of
rusty red and dull gold, rectangular…with two outer rooms and one in the back.
It appeared totally charming.

“A
tent sounds wonderful.”

“Also,
I’ve a training field where you can learn to partner with Hope. We’ll have you
flying before we leave at dawn.”

Jikata
winced. She’d had to rise early plenty of times to travel or to prepare for
performances, but she didn’t care for that. “Very well.”

A
smile hovered around his mouth. “I’m sure we can evade those Friends who will
be sent to search for you.”