Protector of the Flight (16 page)

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Authors: Robin D. Owens

BOOK: Protector of the Flight
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“Feycoocu!”
Alexa’s face lit up. “This is
so
cool. A miniature volaran.” She ran a
finger down a little wing as Sinafinal preened. “Why didn’t you ever turn into
a bitty volaran for me?” She sniffed.

For
Calli,
Sinafinal broadcasted.

“Thank
you,” Calli said.

“Huh,”
said Alexa.

Calli
should return to the Castle,
Sinafinal said.
I will help you lead
these poor creatures.
She circled over the horses’ heads. They acted as if
she was nothing to be feared—not even starting, as if she’d been a low-flying
bird. Calli didn’t know what sort of magic Sinafinal was doing, but it worked.

Then
she hovered over the roan, who had the most welts. The feycoocu lit on the
horse’s back and burst into bright light like a small glowing sun. A loud
melody fluted to Calli’s ears by way of her mind, another aspect of Sinafinal’s
Song.

“Whoa!”
Alexa said as they all turned their heads away. In a couple of minutes the
bright light faded. Still blinking spots from her eyes, Calli looked back at
the horses. Sinafinal lay on the black mare in her small greyhound form.

Marian
and Alexa and I will ride the black and Calli can ride the roan.

“You
really think this will work?” Calli said.

Yes.
They are calm now.

“So,”
Alexa said casually. “Is that your natural feycoocu form, a sun?”

I
prefer to think of it as a star form, but, no,
Sinafinal
smiled a doggy grin, then met Calli’s stare.
You and I will keep a light
touch on their minds and shield them from fear. Marian and Alexa will learn
from you. This will help Alexa with volarans, too.

“Sheesh,”
Alexa muttered. “Another lesson today. Another slam at my riding skills. I’m
learning as fast as I can.”

“We
all are,” Marian said as she opened the gate and entered. She took a wide-legged
stance and hummed a snatch of a tune that sounded suspiciously like an old
cowboy song. As Calli watched, her robe split and turned into gaucho pants.
Calli blinked, but the cloth remained transformed. “Some dress.”

“Marian
can do a lot with her clothes. They’re Circlet made.” Sighing, Alexa walked
through the gate. Marian mounted, and held out a hand to Alexa.

“I
want a dress like that,” Calli said.

“That
can be arranged,” Marian said. “It will cost about the same as a horse.”

“Maybe
not,” Calli said.

Alexa
took Marian’s hand and with a little jump
flew
up and settled on the
back of the horse.

More
magic. Calli’s heartbeat picked up. What she could do with horses now she had
Power! Incredible stuff. Lladrana wouldn’t have ever seen the like of the
horses she’d train. Grinning with the plans she had, the future that continued
to open out in front of her, she swung onto the roan and rode the gelding from
the pen. “You lead.” She smiled at Alexa.

“I
don’t know this part of the town,” Alexa said.

Turn
left,
Sinafinal said.

It
was good that
someone
knew how to get back to the Castle, though when
Calli looked in that direction, the fortress loomed. She’d have been able to
find her way, and that made her feel good, too. So short a time on Lladrana,
but as Marian said, she was learning fast. Both Marian and Alexa had found
places here. Both glowed with Power, and Calli thought she might, too.

She’d
carve out a life here and be just as successful as her new friends.

The
ride to the Castle was quick and uneventful. Both Marian and Alexa easily
learned how to cradle a horse’s thoughts. And to keep tight control of the
horse’s emotions when they threatened to panic.

An
interesting technique, but it wouldn’t be good for either horse or human to
rely on it solely. The horses
were
prey animals, they needed such
instincts, and those instincts should not be blunted by overuse of human mental
control.

Furthermore,
humans needed to communicate with horses rather than relying on mind control.
What happened if that control failed and the horse reverted to right-brain and
the human needed to use regular methods of communication like voice and body
language?

Once
at the Castle, Marian excused herself and hurried off, to work on the Choosing
and Bonding preparations, she said. Calli suspected she wanted to note down the
lesson in mental control of horses and Calli’s conclusions. Surely the
Lladranans had many, many Lorebooks of Horses. Calli’d like to read them. After
she learned to read Lladranan.

Alexa
called a couple of female apprentice Chevaliers to help Calli, then followed
Marian.

Calli
supervised putting the new horses in a round pen on the Landing Field. The
horses looked around and their minds hummed with animal satisfaction. Calli
watched for a bit to make sure the women were caring and competent. They both
sent admiration and healing through their hands and their brushes as they
groomed.

Then
Calli went to the tack room and chose a thin-strapped hackamore for Thunder and
a barely acceptable saddle. The hackamore was dark with age and contained a
faint aura of Power. When she touched it, she knew it had been crafted by a
nomadic people who followed more natural training than she’d seen here.

Thunder’s
stall was empty.
I am in the Landing Field. We have time for a short ride
before you prepare for mating.

The
reminder made her swallow hard.

When
she saw him, he stared at the tack, snorted.
I don’t like that.

It’s
to help me hang on, also to communicate with you.

You
speak Equine well, better than yesterday. Horses helped.
He snorted
again in pity for wingless creatures.

I
don’t think I can have a conversation with you and guide you at the same time
with my mind.

Thunder
seemed to consider that.
Very well.
He dipped his head for the halter.
Shook it to settle the straps.

Feel
okay?

He
blew out a breath.

Just
live with it.

She
placed the saddle on his back and cinched it. He objected. He whuffled and
sidled and stomped.

So
much for her hope of seamless partnership, her idea that they’d settled who was
alpha in this pairing.

12

B
astien strolled
up to Calli with a bland smile, thumbs tucked into the waistband of his leather
pants. “Thunder is a magnificent volaran. But time is short for a flight today,
and you should fly with other winged ones, too. Why don’t I bring a couple I
bred and raised around for you?”

Thunder
quieted.
She is
mine.
We have things to talk about before the mating.

Bastien
obviously heard the volaran. From the startled looks they got from the opposite
side of the Landing Field, others had heard the flying horse, too. Bastien
said, “Seems to me, right now the best reason Calli has to stay here in
Lladrana is to play with volarans. You aren’t in the mind to fly with her, so
why not let her play with another lucky volaran and have your conversation
later?” He winked at Calli.

This
saddle pinches.

“I’m
sorry,” Calli said. “I ordered a new one just for—”

But
Bastien went over to Thunder, placed his hands on either side of the saddle and
yanked. Power enveloped him and Calli heard a few bars of a wild volaran flying
Song. “That should do it,” Bastien panted. He shook his head, then leaned
against the stable wall.

Feels
okay now.
Thunder looked back.

Bastien
flapped a hand. “Go fly. Commune. See you later.”

Calli
wasted no time mounting, satisfied that she’d learned a lesson in handling her
volaran from Bastien.

The
minute she settled, she felt connected with Thunder. Both of them eager.
Thunder ran a couple of lengths, then rose into the air, opening wings that
smelled of floral feather cleaner. Calli’s stomach dipped, but her heart
lifted. They angled upward in the blue sky. Since her throat had closed at the
pure beauty of the moment, Calli mentally said,
Let’s circle around
Castleton and the Castle.
She’d like to see—from the air!—the layout of the
town and the pen from which she’d rescued the horses.

Thunder
slowed his ascent. Calli sent her energy to the left and he turned to begin a
wide circle of the vicinity.
One day we will fly to Volaran Valley,
he
said.

Yes.

The
herd is mighty and the valley is full of Song. We hear all the Songs of Amee,
of Lladrana, of the air and earth and fire and oceans. We hear the Songs from
the stars.
The
Song—the Songs the Singer hears.

Prophetic
Songs?
Calli shivered and told herself it was the cool wind around her.

Yes,
we hear
the
Song, many Songstreams, but we don’t all understand. The alpha mare. The
alpha stallion, perhaps. They don’t always tell us. But they will speak to you.
You are
our
Exotique. The Protector of the Flight.

A
zing of pure Power went through Calli…from everywhere. The sky, the sun, the
stars unseen in daylight.
What…what do I protect you from?

Thunder’s
muscles rippled under her.
You help us with the Chevaliers, give those who
speak with us, like Bastien, more respect so they can help us with our fear.
You protect us from the horrors. You protect us from a dreadful future.
Protector of the Flight.

This
time the zing was more like an unpleasant shudder through every muscle in her
body. She leaned forward against Thunder’s neck, tangling her hands in his mane,
comforted by flesh and bone and sinew and the throbbing of his pulse and sweet
musky amber scent. She shut her eyes and welcomed sensation—the wind against
her, the heat from the sun above and rising from the earth below. Bird cries
sounded around her and she wondered if it might be Sinafinal and her mate. She
hoped so. Anything to make her feel less alone.

I
have a special task, then.
She’d known it, felt it in her bones. More than
what the Chevaliers wanted of her. More than what the Marshalls would demand of
her. Expectations of the volarans. How could she fail them?

Yes,
Thunder said.

What?

I
was not told. The alpha mare will tell you at the right time.
She got an
image, then, of a small chestnut volaran, older. How old?

As
old as the Singer.

Calli
thought that was plenty old, but she’d have to check for sure. She decided to
talk about the easiest revelation, first.
Bastien, who speaks Equine, is
Alexa’s.

Grunting,
Thunder said,
Yes. But there are others. We believe you will mate with one.
It will be a good sign.

Great,
more pressure. Calli straightened. How would she be able to discern a Chevalier
who knew how to speak with volarans? Would they have a different aura? Maybe,
but she hadn’t sorted out what all the aura colors meant yet. Maybe Equine-speaking
Chevaliers smell more of volaran. She couldn’t imagine herself sniffing them.
She was supposed to rely on her Power, but that sense—whatever—was so new she
didn’t entirely trust it.

You
must stay here. With us. A mate will help you do so when the Snap comes.

Even
though she wasn’t talking aloud, Calli cleared her throat.
Do you know when
the Snap—

No.
I only know the alpha mare told me to fly and become your volaran.
He sent love
through their link and the fine tension in Calli’s muscles released. Thunder
hesitated.
Your primary volaran. You will get more.

More!

Some
volarans who like to live with people will be given to you when you choose your
land. If your man is wealthy, he will give some volarans to you.

At
least Thunder said “man.” Calli got the distinct impression that others thought
she might chose a woman. She had never swung that way.

And
you can call wild volarans to you. People who have none and wish to become a
Marshall try this. Sometimes we come, sometimes not. You will have as many as
you want. It is an honor to be your volaran.

Calli
sniffed, grabbed her bandana from her back pocket and blew her nose.
Thanks.

But
I talk the best.

She
smiled.
I’m sure.

Enough
talk, let us fly.

So
they did. Calli lifted her face to the sun and let it dry the remnants of the
tears at the love pouring to her from Thunder, running along their mental
connection, seeping into her through their physical contact. She breathed
deeply, then relaxed in the saddle. They were over green land, they’d flown due
south this time, along a low ridge of hills, and the air got warmer, the land
even more verdant.
Where is Volaran Valley?

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