Echoes in the Dark (6 page)

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Authors: Robin D. Owens

BOOK: Echoes in the Dark
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For
years Lladranans had fought invading monsters sent by a great Dark until the
magical northern boundary began to fall and the Marshalls had dared to Summon
the first Exotique, Alexa. She’d found the way to mend the fence posts, but had
set them on a course to defeat the Dark itself.

Marian
had come then, for the Circlets—the Sorcerers, Tower community—had discovered
that the horrors invaded to regain some specific item. Marian agreed that the
battle should be taken to the Dark. And she’d found the knot that would be
their greatest weapon.

Then
Calli was Summoned for Luthan’s own portion of society, the Chevaliers, and the
volarans. She’d scouted the Dark’s Nest.

When
a sickness sent by the Dark had swept the country, the Cities and Towns had
paid the Marshalls to bring a medica from Exotique Terre. Twins had arrived,
Bri and Elizabeth, and had fulfilled their tasks…and Elizabeth had returned
with the Snap, when her home planet called her, opening a portal in the
Dimensional Corridor, giving an Exotique the choice to stay or return.

Unknown
to the rest of Lladrana, the Seamasters had tried a Summoning—Raine—and had
thought they’d failed, and left. Now she was to build a great Ship to carry an
invasion force to the Dark’s Nest itself and kill it.

The
fractured communities of Lladrana were combining for that one purpose. To kill
the Dark.

To
send one swift and stealthy Ship to the Dark’s Nest, manned with the best
warriors of Lladrana to fight the horrors and the Master defending it. There
the Exotiques would untie the mysterious Weapon Knot Marian had found—the City
Destroyer—with Song and…and leading the Song would be this last woman.

The
sixth and final person to be Summoned to battle the Dark.

4

A
cold wind
whipped around Luthan, whistled through the tunnel, some of the Friends’ voices
broke and were silent. Luthan drew on his Power to keep going, to protect the
woman in his arms, as the bird shrilled a distress call.

The
Singer remained untouched and serene, her pace regular, her Song soaring.

But
she knew, like everyone else, that all their lives hung in the balance.

When
they reached the white-and-gold anteroom, her Song faded. She turned toward
Luthan with a flinty gaze. “I will not let you take this one away. She is mine
to train! Her voice is not sufficient, yet, to master the spell Circlet
Exotique Marian discovered to destroy the Dark. This one must develop her full
range, as I have. She is the key. She will lead the others.”

The
Singer gestured and a hefty man hurried from the rest of the Friends’ to stand
before him, arms outstretched to take the burden of the new Exotique. Luthan
held onto her.

The
door to the caverns was still open, the room was small and not everyone could
crowd into it. Friends in the tunnel whimpered. Then their ranks broke and a
line of them hurried by the Singer and Luthan and the large Friend, through the
door to the chapter house. The Singer ignored them. Luthan couldn’t, he sent
what Power he could to soothe their fears. They didn’t acknowledge him.

He’d
made the right decision. He would no longer represent the Singer.

“Look
at her,” the Singer said, pointing at the woman in his arms. “The shadows
beneath her eyes, the gray tone to her skin, she is exhausted.”

Luthan?
Bri called.
She, Sevair and the roc were just outside the octagonal tower door that led to
the caverns. He was connected to her through his bond with his brother, who was
pairbonded with Alexa. All the Exotiques except Raine were strongly linked to
Lladrana men—and to each other.

“Summoning
is hard on a person, she’ll recover, better she be with her own kind,” he said.

The
Singer’s smile was knife-edged. “
My
Song has reverberated in her life.
She was fated for me, will probably be my successor. That means she has
prophetic Power, untapped and untrained. Can’t you sense it?”

Focusing
now on the inner woman and her Power—her great Power—instead of her outer
beauty, Luthan studied her. He’d never heard such a complex Song, and as the
Singer had pointed out, there was a well of Power within her that appeared to
be trapped behind a door just cracked open—recently. She’d seen visions in the
caverns, he realized. His gut tightened.

“You
can take her from me—” the Singer’s voice held a mocking note “—but her Power
for prophecy has already been unlocked. Will you take the task of training her?
Do you forget, then, how it was when you had your own first visions?”

He
suppressed a shudder. He would never forget the visions that had come to him as
he’d gone from boy to man. Terrible to experience that alone, to fear for your
sanity.

Luthan,
I know you’re nearby!
Bri kicked the outside door.

“So,
what will you do, Luthan Vauxveau?” the Singer asked.

His
lips firmed as he considered. If he broke ties with the Singer now, he’d be
leaving an Exotique solely in her Power, with no connection to the others from
Exotique Terre.

Or
he could let the Singer think he was yet her dupe, come and go freely in the
Abbey. So he bowed his head. “Very well.”

“You’ll
explain to the others?” She smiled again.

He
wanted to refuse. “I’ll do my best.” But his loyalty had changed, from the
Singer to the…Not the Marshalls, even though Exotique Alexa and his own brother
Bastien led them. Not the Chevaliers, he’d outgrown them and their specific concerns.

He’d
serve Lladrana itself, the planet Amee, and the Exotiques. They were the
spearhead against the Dark.

He
would double-check all the Singer’s statements. Reluctantly, he transferred the
lovely new Exotique to the burly Friend. Chasonette settled on the man’s head
and he winced.

Bri,
Luthan said
mentally, keeping his tone calm and un-hurried.
The Singer has convinced me
that the new Exotique should remain here.

But—

There
are good reasons.
The last Friend sidled through the chapter house door. The Singer went to her
own door and flung it open for the man holding the Exotique. There was a tinier
room that Luthan understood was a box that moved between floors. The Singer
stepped in, watching him.

“She
will be taken to a luxurious suite that has been prepared specifically for
her,” the Singer said, her smile turning satisfied.

Luthan
didn’t like any of her previous smiles, nor the smug one she sent him now. She
lifted a hand. “You have been an excellent representative. Take care of the
problem of the other Exotiques. We will talk later.”

Anger
welled again. She’d held great Power—the Power of the Oracle of Lladrana—for
too long. And her secrecy had helped separate the factions over the past
decades.

He
had much to discuss with the Exotiques and they didn’t totally trust him
because he’d been the Singer’s man. He’d have to talk fast.

If
he were clever and lucky enough, he could speak with them one at a time and
convince them to let the new one stay with the Singer. Save himself grief. Not
a good position for a man who’d once been called the most honorable in Lladrana
to be in.

Luthan
opened the door to Bri and Sevair. The healer’s husband had a grip around her
biceps and she shifted from foot to foot. She’d cut her brown hair again and it
was shorter than most men’s, some standing out in spikes at the top. In style,
she was the most outrageous of all the Exotiques, but at least the purple
streaks were gone. She wore a medica’s red travel tunic with a white cross.

The
roc had moved to a spacious courtyard within earshot, eyes gleaming and wicked
beak slightly open as if ready to pounce.

Bowing,
Luthan addressed them, “Salutations.”

Bri
frowned. Sevair had taken to carrying his stonemason’s hammer as a weapon in a
sling on his hip. His fingers touched the handle, but he inclined his head.
“Salutations, Luthan.”

Luthan
raised his voice. “Lady roc, if you are hungry, the Singer’s cattle herd is to
the northwest.”

Thank
you, Chevalier,
the roc said, projecting her thoughts into all their minds. Her tone, too, was
mocking and Luthan was getting damned tired of that, but he’d brought this
situation upon himself by trusting the Singer and following her orders.

Using
the common link between the Exotiques and their men, Luthan spoke mind to mind.
Perhaps we can adjourn to my home estate? It’s not too far from here.

Sevair
frowned.
Castle Vauxveau is far northwest.

Not
my father’s home, but my own,
Luthan said. It was the house he’d
inherited from his mother’s aunt that he’d claimed as soon as he could leave
his father. Not that he’d made it a home then. He’d run wild for a couple of
years until he realized his younger brother was following in his footsteps.

Past
mistakes, he’d made a couple of bad ones. Then he’d done fine for years, but
recently…

He
waved toward the entry station of the Abbey and the volaran landing field
beyond. “While the roc is feeding, we can fly to my home. I’m sure the Singer
won’t care if you use a couple of her volarans.” Not if it meant getting
disruptive people away from her domain.

Bri’s
face went stubborn. She crossed her arms under her breasts and adopted a
militant stance that looked more than a little like Alexa’s. Habits were
rubbing off. “I’m the Exotique Medica, I want to examine our new addition.” Bri
shook her head. “Summoning is tough under any circumstances, but by the
Singer—”

“The
most Powerful person in Lladrana,” Luthan ended smoothly. “I saw the lady
myself.”

“Female?”
asked Sevair.

“Ayes,
one who looks more like our people than the others.”

As
expected, curiosity lit Bri’s eyes, but she stuck to the topic. “She appeared
well, and tuned to Amee?”

“Ayes.
The Singer Summoned her through mirror magic without my knowledge. There were
the chimes, and cymbals to approximate the gong.” He raised his hand when Bri
opened her mouth to speak. “When I refused to accept that the cymbals would be
effective, the Singer drew the sound of the gong to us.” He shook his head.
“Amazing.”

Bri
huffed a breath, her stance softened. “We heard it.”

“I’m
sure everyone did.”

Fingers
drumming on her opposite arm, Bri searched his face. “She was well?”

“I
give you my word. She appeared as if she was weary before she arrived, and the
Singer immediately sent her to bed to rest. If we petition the Singer now to
see her, she may deny us simply because the new Exotique is sleeping.” He
paused. “She
is
meant for the Singer, you know.”

Bri
seemed unconvinced. Luthan saw a man in the shadows. “Jongler!” he called. The
man hesitated, shuffled forward. He bowed briefly, looked at Bri’s hair,
glanced away. “Ayes?”

“The
Singer has Friends who are medicas?” Luthan asked.

“Of
course.” Jongler’s forehead lined. “She has been ill and is of a great age. We
have the best medicas in the land here, two came from the Marshalls’ Castle
last year.” He bowed, deeper, to Bri. “I should say the best medicas other than
yourself, Exotique Medica.” A gleam came to his eyes. “If you would stay with
us, I guarantee that you would be well paid.” He turned to Sevair. “And there
is always work for a skilled stonemason and architect on the Abbey buildings.
The Singer is delicate, and the person of the greatest importance in Lladrana.
Her visions are so necessary for the future, please stay—”

But
Bri was backing away, hauling Sevair, who was studying the conglomeration of
buildings within the compound. “Thank you.” She glanced at Sevair, then planted
her feet, raised her chin and stared at Jongler. “I insist you have a medica
examine the Exotique…Singer tomorrow morning and send me a report at my tower
in Castleton. You do have a crystal orb?”

Jongler
was bowing again. “Of course, of course, the very best crystal, bespelled by
the great Circlet Sorcerer himself, Bossgond. We also have mirrors, though none
of the new, advanced ones. Yet. Still, they will do.”

“Crystal,”
Bri said firmly. “You know my address?”

“The
ancient Ronteran’s Tower in Castleton.” Jongler breathed the name reverently.
“Ronteran was not only a Circlet Sorcerer, he was a Singer’s consort.” Jongler
waved. “He designed a few of the buildings.”

“Thought
I recognized his ornate style,” Sevair said. Luthan followed his gaze to a row
of gargoyles.

There
was a belch overhead and the scent of sweet grass—from the roc. A magical
creature indeed. The great bird fluttered down. Jongler sent its bloody beak a
glance of abject terror, scrambled back, still bowing to Bri. “If you ever want
to change venues…” He vanished around a corner.

I
flew around the compound,
the roc said, eyes glittering a rainbow of dark
colors.
The new Singer is Powerful, healthy, resting. She is where she must
be.

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