Protector of the Flight (61 page)

Pa!
Pa! Pa!
Diaminta squealed both mentally and audibly, waving her arms. She was strapped
to Jetyer, and they were both strongly bespelled to the small mare.

Jetyer’s
face was set and a little pale. Calli could see a few of his freckles. He
looked a lot like Marrec, with that expression. His gaze was bruised. He’d
thought they’d abandoned them. He had paid the most for the Singer’s little
jaunt. Calli
hated
that.

So
she opened her heart and her mind and let her joy at seeing him, at being home,
her
love
for him bubble forth. Her Song brushed her children, enveloped
them, sank into them—and not her Song alone, but Marrec’s, too. And their
shared Song. All the bonds between them opened to exchange feelings, brief
images of the last few days. Jetyer’s tense body eased, his lips curved and his
eyes shone with dampness. He
knew
that she’d—they’d—been forced away
from their children.

And
then there wasn’t much need for words at all.

Marrec
jerked his chin southward. “Can’t send them back by themselves, and since we
don’t know what the Singer put in her letters, I think we’d better both
confront Swordmarshall Germaine and Lady Hallard.” One side of his mouth
lifted. “They aren’t going to be happy that we’re retiring. I’d just as soon
have all my family with me.”

Jetyer
cheered. Diaminta screeched joyfully.

Dark
Lance circled the children’s mare, sandwiching her between the two stallions.

Drawing
Power from her joy at seeing her children again, Calli helped Marrec settle a
Distance Magic bubble around the mare and headed onward toward the encampment.

About
a half hour later, Calli realized Thunder was faltering.

What’s
wrong?

His
neck bent and he rolled an eye at her, blinked in embarrassment.
I was at
our home last night, then went to the encampment this morning, then to the
Castle….

Then
came to the Singer’s Abbey and we played and now we are off to the encampment.
A lot of Power usage.

He
blew out a soft breath.
Ayes.

She
sighed. She should not have taken the time and strength to play.

Calli?
questioned
Marrec.

Thunder
is tired…. I am, too. I think I must try pulling those replenishing energy
spells from the sky and land.
The ones she’d just learned before she
left.

She
sensed Marrec’s hesitation.

Go
on!
Get us
the life we deserve. Care for the children. I’ll be along as soon as I can. The
ladies can both link with me, if they need to, understand that I’m on the way.

Very
well. Do what you must.

She’d
spent some time playing and now it was time to…not work, because none of the
time spent here on Lladrana except when she fought was work…but definitely time
to pay attention to important matters.

And
events had swept over her with relentless force again. Her lips twitched up in
a rueful smile. Only here a few hours and they’d been packed with strange and
unusual occurrences. That almost felt normal now. And she’d had Marrec this
time.

God—by
the Song—she loved him. She couldn’t think of her life without him. If she’d
kept him from panicking and sane on Earth, he’d been invaluable to her, too,
given her someone solid to lean on, kept her grounded in what was important—not
winning her father’s love, which was something she’d never be able to do, but
planning their future.

Now
they
had
a future, and it was definitely time for her to implement it.
Thunder had said nothing to interrupt her musings. She sensed he’d been content
to be in her company. Their current speed and energy outlay gave him time to
recover. She frowned in consideration. She seemed more
aware
of sunlit
motes of Power around her, as if they were drawn to her—or sent to her. Same
difference, she supposed. Anyway, Thunder was using that to strengthen himself,
as she should be.

You
know the Live in the Song Spell,
she said.

Of
course.
The flick of his wingtip was smug.
Volarans always Live in the Song. It is
only unaware people who cannot master it.

Enough
with the insults. I’ve only been back a few hours!

He shook
his head as if brushing off insects.
I did not like you gone.

I
didn’t like being gone, but it wasn’t my choice.

A
long breath escaped him, as if he’d needed that reassurance as much as her
children had.

They
wouldn’t let me Call to you, try and get you and Marrec back.

They?

His
head came up and pointed to the left. Two hawks flew near them.
The
feycoocus?

A
ripple of Thunder’s irritation shivered his muscles.
Everyone. Only the
Exotiques tried to get you back.

“Huh.”

Everyone
else said you and Marrec were where you were supposed to be,
he grumbled,
and Calli got images of the head volarans, of Thealia and Lady Hallard.

Marrec’s
voice came.
The children and I are above the camp and going down now.
Everything looks very calm. Dark Lance says there have been no night battles in
months.

Startled
from her thoughts, she looked around to see the sun setting quickly, and they
were still quite a ways from the encampment. Distance Magic would rectify that,
but she had to move
now.
She’d been thinking too much and not doing—or
perhaps putting off the time when she’d have to try a spell that had always
been hard for her to master.

All
right,
she sent to Marrec and Thunder and reinforced her own confidence. She could do
this,
would
do this.

She
heard her magic teacher and Marian’s previous instructions in her head. “Open
yourself to all the elements, to the land of Lladrana and the whole planet of
Amee.” But that didn’t seem right to Calli, so instead of opening herself, she
tried something different, she imagined sluffing off layers of protective
shields—around her mind and heart.

Not
opening.

Letting
go.

Releasing
her fears, her expectations, living in the moment. Living in the Song.

The
air around her held the last warmth of day. She drew it into her, felt as if sparks
traveled up and down her muscles. The wispy clouds above, tinting pink with
sunset, held cool ice crystals, with the Power of mountain wind and sky water.
That, too, she brought into her, and the Power was like silk slipping along her
skin. She kept a little and sent most of it to Thunder and his wingbeats grew
stronger. She
felt
him revitalize, gathering and storing energy for use
in spells.

She
lifted her hands from her saddle, held her arms away from herself to find the
waves of energy from the land below. The rich, heavy feel of earth, the pulsing
planet. This was harder than fire and wind and water. Hard to feel, hard to
harness. She thought of landing but brushed the idea aside. No time. And she
wouldn’t let the tension of a deadline distract her. She settled deeply into
her seat. Closed her eyes. Yes, the last touches of the sun and the water
suspended in the air and the wind itself was easier to feel than the land. She
let her mind flow down with a breeze, play with leaves, ruffle grasses, sift into
the ground, and through that connection, she pulled the land’s Song into
herself, let it sink, rich and coating, into her bones.

Then
there was simply the Song of existence itself—of life and space and time.
Something Calli had rarely heard but now knew. The Song of her new home and a
future shaped the way she yearned for. Deep down, she’d been afraid to believe
in it, so hadn’t been able to accept the Song and the Power. It caressed her
now, poured through her, like thunder rolling in her veins.

One
last deep inhalation, one last expelling of breath.

Our
Song.
She sent the energy to Thunder, for him to use, felt refreshed and full of
vitality herself. With a hummed couplet she formed an orb of Distance Magic
around them, and they flew fast and far with Power.

A
moment later she saw something ahead. A horrible yellow-green-gray cloudy
smudge against the horizon, blocking star-shine. If she didn’t know better,
she’d have thought it was smog. She sniffed, smelled only a trace of a noxious
odor.
What’s that? Can we avoid it to reach the encampment?

That
is
the
encampment,
Thunder said.

What
is that cloud?

What
cloud?

Calli
scowled. She didn’t want to go down there. All her instincts warned her that
evil lurked ahead.
Marrec!
she called.

Ayes?
he asked with
his customary calm.

What’s
going on? Why is the camp so foul?

What
are you talking about?

It’s
not bad down there?

Humor
came through their bond.
We are still being cheered. Everyone gathered to
greet us, and all the volarans want to say hello. I gave the letters to
Swordmarshall Germaine and Lady Hallard. They are not pleased but cannot deny
the Singer. They want to see you before they release us.

He
sighed and his exhaustion came through.
The children are tired. We will wait
for you in our tent.
Pride suffused his thoughts.
Jetyer has cared for
his volaran. He flew well, has done everything well.

Everything’s
okay?
she persisted.

Fine.
We only wait for you before we fly home.

I’ll
see you soon,
she sent to him, but aloud she grumbled to Thunder, “I don’t like this.” The
smog trailed upward in wisps and hugged the ground close. Her man and her
children were down below. She had no choice.
Keep your senses open.

Thunder
snorted.

They
entered the wisps of cloud. Now they were in it, it seemed unthreatening,
insubstantial. There was no nasty smell. Yet Calli had to keep herself from
shifting in unease, which would give Thunder wrong cues.

By
the time they reached the ground, the events of the day weighed upon her, like
a burden of weariness. Only a couple of volarans lifted their heads and gave
her a whicker of greeting. That disappointed her a little since she hadn’t seen
many of them for what seemed like ages and she’d expected them to crowd around
her. None of the other Chevaliers or Marshalls had waited for her to land,
either.

She
dismounted, shrugged and stretched, trying to work out kinks she hadn’t noticed
before. Using more Power than ordinarily, she did a quick groom of Thunder so
he’d be ready to leave again shortly. He folded his wings and dropped his head.
I am very tired and want to sleep.
The volarans around them were all
dozing.

She
stumbled through the gate and kicked over an empty metal feed bin. The sound
shook her. She felt it reverberate through her foot to her legs, her chest,
ringing in her ears. Her wits sharpened a little, and she kicked it again.

Clang!
It echoed
subliminally, like the very gong that had been used to Summon her here.

Amazed,
she slipped against the fence and some bridles hanging over the top rail
clinked. Sort of like the chimes. Again she felt the noise.

Something
was wrong.

No.

Everything
was wrong.

Marrec!
she shouted
with her mind. Then realized what she’d done. She’d kept her mouth shut, hadn’t
yelled for him with breath from her lungs.

No
answer.

Thunder!

She
got an Equine grumble.
Sleeping, here.

Don’t
sleep too deep, we’re getting out of here as quick as can be.

She
left the volaran area fast and quietly. The fug of the camp staggered her, no
longer benign to her senses but a gray, filthy atmosphere that rasped into her
lungs. She wrapped a bandana around her face that still held the sweet scents
of the Colorado Rockies and managed a little smile as she recalled that she’d
cherished Marrec’s handkerchief at the ranch for the opposite reason. She
blinked and blinked again as her wits fuddled. Walking was like pulling a boot
out of thick mud, taking a step and sinking knee high, and repeating the
process.

She
saw no one, and that tinkled an alarm in her mind. She had to get to their
tent, had to get to Marrec.
Had to reach her babies.
That fear was
strong enough to dissipate cotton-headedness, have her picking up her feet
faster, holding the cloth closer to her nose and mouth. Hum a protective Shield
and watch it form around her. Yep. The Volaran Exotique was back.