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Keepers of the Flame
Robin D. Owens


Two sisters born to serve… The sorcerers of Lladrana have already Summoned three women to help fight the evil attacking their world. Yet their fourth Summoning brings the unexpected–twin sisters. And ones with strong ties to Earth. Both have a special gift to heal.But while Brigid Drystan has explored that gift through unorthodox means, Elizabeth has poured herself into getting a medical degree and denying her powers. Now, stuck in a strange land, fighting a plague sent by the Dark to weaken Lladrana, they must use all their resources to save lives. And one twin will risk her own on an experiment that might doom them both….









Robin D. Owens

Keepers Of The Flame







www.LUNA-Books.com


To readers,

May hope always be your friend.




Contents


Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47




Acknowledgments:


All my fellow LUNA authors, my critique group,

and the health care professionals in my life who know

what I’m talking about, Morgan de Thouars, and Rita Mills,

and Mountain Mehndi for Bri’s design.




1


Denver, Last of May, early afternoon

He wasn’t worth it. Elizabeth Drystan stomped down the grocery store aisle, pushing her metal basket hard. The damn thing had a wonky wheel, of course, and Elizabeth reveled in the necessity of using force.

The man wasn’t worth her heartbreak. Heartbreak? More like her heart had been ripped out, leaving a horrible, bloody, aching core. As a newly board-certified doctor starting a job in Denver Major Hospital next month, she knew her physical heart still beat. But, oh, her emotional one was shredded into pieces.

The jerk, Cassidy, had said she was “crowding” him. He “needed space.” Just when she thought she could plan the rest of her life—starting with a wedding. After a year, Cassidy had broken their engagement. Because he needed space.

Elizabeth had told him to go to Wyoming.

And the inexplicable auditory illusions—chanting, gongs and chimes—were taking her to the edge of temper and sanity. Even now she had to block the sounds from her mind.

She took a corner fast and crashed into another cart. The jolt sang up her arms. She opened her mouth to spew and saw her twin sister, Bri, who was supposed to be in Sweden—purple-streaked hair and all. Elizabeth burst into tears.

Bri reached for her, hugging and soothing. “I knew something was wrong. I had to came back.”

Elizabeth didn’t care where her free-spirited sister had been, only that she was holding her. Her tears were dripping down Bri’s fallen earbuds and she wondered if salt water damaged them. The silliness of that thought made her gasp, choke, and stifle the water flow. Digging into her cart for one of the already opened boxes of tissues, Elizabeth wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “God, am I glad you came.”

Bri patted her on the shoulder. “I knew you were sad.” Her jaw tightened. “Man problems, right? That Doctor Medical-Prodigy-Slick-Hunk-Son-Of-A-Bitch. I told you he was an arrogant snob of a bastard. Finally showed his true colors.”

Elizabeth hugged her again. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Actually, I’m back for good.”

That was startling and Elizabeth welcomed the distraction, even if she didn’t believe it. “Really?” She stepped back to scan Bri’s face under her spiky hair of brown and purple. There was an unaccustomed seriousness in her hazel gaze along with…uncertainty?

Shrugging, Bri flushed. “No place like home, right?”

“So they say.” But lately Elizabeth had begun to feel a change of venue might be good. She could reconsider her decision about starting at Denver Major Hospital. Take a long break, call around to some of her other offers. Her feet were actually tingling. She wondered if that was what Bri called “itchy feet.”

“Elizabeth?” Bri was smiling. “You went away on me.”

That was usually Elizabeth’s phrase to her twin.

After one last blow into her tissue, Elizabeth tucked it away into a plastic baggie in her purse, took out an antiseptic towlette packet, opened it and wiped her hands.

Looking amused, Bri rolled up her earbuds and slipped her player in her purse. “Feel better?”

“Always, when you’re here.”

Bri looked away, then back, hunched a shoulder. “You know why I’ve been gone. I had to see if other places were more accepting of…our talent.”

Elizabeth never wanted to talk about that subject. “The folks will be glad to see you. They were hoping you’d come home for Dad’s birthday.”

“This time the favors I called in were solid. Got here this morning. Everywhere’s been interesting. Denver and home is better.”

Touching the puffiness under her eyes, Elizabeth winced. “My God, look at me, breaking down in a grocery store!”

Bri glanced around, “You wouldn’t be the first, and you picked an appropriate place. Supplies all around. Tiger Balm’s right behind your shoulder and aspirin on my side of the aisle.” Bri grinned. Elizabeth always thought Bri had gotten the prettier smile. Bri said since they were identical, Elizabeth had it, too. That wasn’t true. Bri’s smile was special. Maybe because she was such a free spirit.

“’Scuse me,” said a tall, wiry black woman with salt-and-pepper hair, walking down the aisle. Her face showed irritation—that part which wasn’t covered with a package of frozen baby peas. “I need one of those instant ice packs.” Her visible eye rolled to other items on the shelves. “And one of those herbal sinus pillows, too.”

Bri moved her cart. “Let’s see,” she said. “I’m a massage therapist.” She tilted her head toward Elizabeth. “And she’s a medical doctor. What happened?”

A corner of the woman’s mouth quirked as she walked past Bri to Elizabeth. “Volleyball.” She took the peas from her face.

Elizabeth winced in sympathy, checked the woman’s eye, then carefully felt around the bone. “No other head injury?”

“No.”

“Blurry vision?”

“No.”

“Looks like a big black eye.”

The woman snorted. “Got that.”

“Here,” Bri said, ripping open the box and twisting the instant ice compress to initiate the cold. She placed the pack on the woman’s face.

Then Bri did the unthinkable. Elizabeth saw an aura of green pulse from Bri’s hand through the pack and bathe the woman’s face for long, long seconds.

“I think you’ll find it looks worse than it is,” Bri said, releasing the compress after the woman dropped the peas in her basket and held the pack herself.

“Thanks. It feels better already.”

“Here’s your sinus pillow.” Elizabeth hoped her voice was less stiff than she felt.

“Thanks again.” The woman nodded and left.

“Are you crazy!” Elizabeth whispered. “I want to talk to you!” She jerked her cart around and headed toward an empty corner of the store.

Smiling, Bri sauntered after her, tugging her smoothly rolling cart. Elizabeth got her temper under control by the time her twin reached her.

“What were you doing!” Elizabeth demanded.

“You know what I was doing. Just because you deny our gift of healing hands doesn’t mean I do.”

“You used it in a grocery store.”

“What, you think healing should only be confined to clinics?” Bri glanced around. “Let me tell you, this store is pristine compared to some of the places I’ve been.” She lowered her voice. “The refugee camps I’ve…worked…in.”

Elizabeth clutched the handle of her grocery cart until her knuckles whitened. “Someone could have seen!”

“Seen what? It was only a little burst of energy.” Bri’s smile widened. “And well done, if I say so, myself. That bruise will fade in record time.”

Again Bri glanced around. “So how many of our fellow shoppers can see healing auras, do you think? It’s not even an organic store.”

“Someone could have seen,” Elizabeth repeated, unable to put enough distress in words.

Bri was frowning now—maybe she’d come to her senses. “You saw how the lady came straight to you, the doctor. People trust doctors with medical degrees, not those of us with healing hands. That’s why I’ve decided that you got it right, working within the Western medical establishment.”

Elizabeth still didn’t know what to say, and must have appeared as confused as she felt.

Bri patted her shoulder, but her face went impassive. “I promise I won’t let anyone know you have the gift, too.”

Elizabeth winced and rubbed her temples. She could barely hear her sister for the cacophony once again inundated her mind. “Sorry to snap at you. These damned chimes are driving me mad!”

Eyes widening, Bri said, “Chimes? You too?” Her voice dropped. “What about a gong…and chants?”

Elizabeth knew her mouth opened and closed like a guppy’s.

“You hear them, too,” Bri said.

“What?” Elizabeth whispered, clutching the handle of her cart again.

“Chanting voices more persistent than the chimes and gong. I thought something was wrong so got checked out in Sweden by both medical and alternative health practitioners. No observable or understandable physical or mental problems.”

Swallowing, Elizabeth said, “I attributed it to emotional trauma.”

“Well, you’ve had plenty of that. How long?”

“Three and a half weeks.”

“Me, too. Did you have your hearing checked?”

Elizabeth sighed. “Yes.”

“Let’s give it another week, then decide what to do.” Elizabeth turned to finish shopping, but Bri put a hand on her arm, snagged her gaze with the same changeable hazel eyes but showing a different pattern of specks. “It might be a sign that our healing powers are changing. I’ve noticed mine are a little more reliable and slightly stronger.”

Elizabeth flinched.

Bri said, “Is that one of the reasons Cassidy broke up with you? Because he discovered you using your gift?”

“I don’t use a gift. Sometimes something just seems to flow from me. Nothing important. But our last argument was because he’d noticed…” It hurt to remember. She waved a hand. “Past and done.” She looked at their carts, then back at her sister, then they both stared at the sack of potatoes in each other’s cart and shook their heads in unison. “I see you had a craving for potatoes, too,” Elizabeth said.

“Yes,” Bri said, “those really unhealthy shredded potatoes loaded with cheese and sour cream. Mickey potatoes.” Mickey was the friend of their mom’s who’d given them the recipe.

Trying to lighten the moment Elizabeth closed her eyes and groaned theatrically in pleasure. “As medical professionals, we shouldn’t consider more than a bite of those cholesterol bombs. A nice baked potato with a smidgeon of butter—”

Bri reached under a stack of greens and held up a couple of small plastic sacks. “Chocolate for my sweet craving.” Bri shook the nuggets so little metallic wrappers rustled as the candies tumbled against each other, glittering. “Our favorites.”

“You got dark chocolate for me.” Elizabeth was touched. “You’re so sweet. So bad, but so sweet.” She glanced at her watch. “We have just enough time to settle you in, cook, dress, and go to the folks.”

Bri nodded at Elizabeth’s cell thrusting from her purse’s outer pocket. “You should find about three messages from me on that.”

“Oops.” When she looked at the readout, it was blank. “Forgot to charge it.” Another result of stress. She was tired of hurting because of Cassidy and forced the thought of him away again. Enough wallowing. Get on with life! Straightening her shoulders, she said. “I want you to stay with me.”

Under lowered brows, Bri watched her, that uncertain look back in her eyes. “For real?”

“For real. You can have the guest room.” She bit her lips to stop them from trembling, cleared her throat. “It’ll be good to have you living with me, like when we were kids. Especially since I’m on vacation.” She wanted her sister more now than ever since they’d become adults. Bri’s first walkabout had been during freshman summer vacation in college. Elizabeth had never admitted how much she wished Bri hadn’t gone her own way. Perhaps she’d stay now.

“Okay,” Bri said.

Elizabeth relaxed, smiled. Everything would be better now that Bri was home.



A few hours later Bri and Elizabeth left their parents’ home. “Mom and Dad loved our gift of an all-expenses-paid two-week vacation in Hawaii.” Bri was very pleased at how the dinner had gone—except for a tense few minutes when they skirted around Cassidy Jones, who’d usually celebrated with them.

Her parents had been delighted by Bri’s announcement to settle in Denver and become a nurse.

She shifted the foam freezer chest full of ham, Mickey potatoes, crudités, baked beans and fruit salad that she carried.

Elizabeth hauled two sacks of potatoes. Apparently their mother had had the same craving as the twins. “Leaving tomorrow. All this food,” their mother had grumbled, pressing it on her daughters.

Night had fallen and wispy clouds draped the black sky. Only a few stars could be seen from the city. Bri inhaled deeply. Their parents’ house backed onto Cheesman Park and the scent of thick grass and roses came on a cool breeze. Sweden’s air had still carried the last of spring. For a moment she just stood and let the city sounds and scents and very atmosphere caress her.

There was no place like home. Finally her itchy feet had stopped tingling, bringing her back to her family.

“You’re tired, let me drive,” Bri said to her sister.

“You must be jet-lagged.”

“I was, but I got my second wind.” As soon as she put her head on a pillow tonight she’d crash for sure, but right now she was in a state of hyperawareness. She unlocked the doors, opened hers and they stowed the chest and potatoes in the back seat, and got in.

Elizabeth stared at her.

“What?” Bri asked as she turned the key in the ignition.

“You really are going to nursing school,” Elizabeth said.

“That’s right. I finally decided your way was the best.” Bri pulled away from the curb. “I’ve learned a lot, but I’m tired of the traveling. I can use my gift in the established medical community.”

“I see,” Elizabeth said, but the car was dark and Bri thought that Elizabeth had shut her eyes.

“You’ll be a dynamite doctor with the benefit of our gifts. It’s too late for me there, I don’t want to take the time to go through med school, but nursing…yeah, I can do that.”

More, heavier silence.

“All this time I’ve been sneered at because of my ‘flaky’ ideas and you’ve been the good twin because you followed Mom’s path through medical school and didn’t make waves.”

“A little resentment there?” Elizabeth asked in a steady voice.

“Okay. Maybe. But I honestly think you need to admit to yourself that you have a special gift and you chose a career to use it…and you hide that you use it. I don’t mind you hiding it—”

“Liar.”

“Okay, some resentment there, too, but I’ve come to accept that you must hide it.”

“My way is not your way.”

“Oh, honey, I know that! But I want to hear the words from you. Just once. Come on, it isn’t difficult. Just say, ‘I have a special gift for healing.’”

“You don’t want much,” Elizabeth muttered. Her voice broke.

Bri pulled to the side of the road. Tapped her head on the steering wheel. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. I’m sorry, you have too much else to handle, and here I’m demanding more. Twin, you need this vacation.”

“Tell me about it.” Elizabeth was blowing her nose again. “I’m too damn sensitive to every word. Every glance. And being at Denver Major where Cassidy is….”

“And now your gift reminds you of him, too. Damn it!” Frustration welled through Bri. Her twin needed her comfort, but Bri, too, needed something from her sister—support, understanding. But here and now wasn’t the time to demand it. She’d been impatient. Releasing her tight grip on the wheel, she opened herself to what she thought of as the healingstream, let the power soothe her, tingle into her hands and warm them. She set her palm on Elizabeth’s shoulder, feeling her sister’s energy field, more, her struggle against anger and depression. Bri sent the warm flow into Elizabeth.

After a moment, Elizabeth said, “Thank you.”

“I have a special gift for healing.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Yes, you do.” She leaned her head back on the seat rest, but said nothing about her own gift and that hurt Bri.

She rolled her shoulders. She wouldn’t give up, she’d just let the tender subject go—for now. She rubbed her hands to absorb lingering energy, then touched the steering wheel to ground herself. She checked the street and pulled out into light traffic.

Elizabeth said, “Cassidy is incredible. He’s a better physician than I am.”

“No!” The word exploded from Bri. “Never. He’s not. He may be more brilliant. He may have gone through the damn programs like a rocket, but he is not a better doctor than you. You’re twice the physician he is. And you know why? Because you have heart.”

Elizabeth blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that. Heart. Huh.”

“Huh yourself.”

Bri drove down streets overhung with leafy branches.

Elizabeth’s breathing evened. Bri felt her sister’s glance, but said nothing. Elizabeth inhaled, let her breath out slowly. “Don’t ask me to go in a direction I’m not ready for. I don’t want the topic raised again.”

Bri found her teeth set, and deliberately relaxed her jaw. Again. There was no place like home and family, and no one who could push her buttons so easily as Elizabeth.

Bri turned the car east and a wave of sound washed over her, through her. “The sounds of chimes and stuff is getting louder.”

Elizabeth said nothing, but she’d stiffened.

“Chanting mostly. Sheesh, don’t even need to turn on the radio.” She cocked her head. “Maybe I should have said merde. Sounds like French.”

There were a couple of minutes of uneasy silence, then Elizabeth finally said, “Never did like those French classes in school.”

Then she did hear it, too! Bri kept her tone light. “When you visited me in Cannes, you spoke French with a better accent than mine.” A tinkle of chimes rippled, then settled inside her, coiling. She flexed her fingers. “Do you recognize that?”

“What?” The word sounded dragged out of Elizabeth.

“The chimes are the tones associated with the seven chakras: C, D, E, F, G, A, B.”

“Leave it to you.”

A gong sounded in her mind. Elizabeth flinched beside her. “Put on some speed. Let’s get home.”

“Right.”

The rest of the drive passed in a rush, both physically and emotionally. Chanting blocked out all other sounds—except for the chakra chimes and the occasional gong. The rhythm was odd, Bri couldn’t catch hold of any pattern, but it wound her so tight she was near panting.

Elizabeth gave a little moan, rubbed her temples. “I can’t anticipate the beat.” She squirmed. “It seems to be having a physical effect. My skin prickles.”

“So does mine. Nerve endings do you think?”

With a choppy exhalation of breath, Elizabeth said, “Probably. I have my medical bag up in the loft. We can check this out.” She sounded as if she was reassuring herself as well as Bri.

“Of course,” Bri said, pulling into the underground garage and parking in Elizabeth’s space.

They got out. Bri grabbed the freezer chest and Elizabeth both bags of potatoes. As they hurried to the elevator, Bri realized her whole body trembled—the chanting was spiraling, rising with excitement, with demand. She glanced at Elizabeth and saw a huge flickering multicolored banded aura. Bri’s breath whooshed out. She noted her sister wouldn’t look at her. “This is scary.”




2


“Scary,” Elizabeth said, jabbing at the elevator button. “Everything will be fine in a few minutes. We’ll figure this out.” She tilted her head in Bri’s direction. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“Likewise.” The sounds had affected her heartbeat; the chanting sped it up, the chakra chimes tugging at different internal energies. She didn’t like the sensations.

The elevator dinging melded with everything else and she didn’t notice it until the steel gray doors opened and Elizabeth hustled in. The black rubber-edged doors nearly closed before Bri hopped inside, stumbled to the far wall and braced herself.

Elizabeth pressed thirty-four and the elevator rose.

Too slowly. Bri’s vision was morphing. Sound seemed to take shape, with pastel clouds of pink and green and coral whirling around them. Bri gulped.

“Just a couple of minutes,” Elizabeth chanting herself.

“This ain’t good,” Bri whispered. She wondered if she should dial 911.

The elevator went up and up and up. The chanting and chimes and gong filled it.

There was a slight hesitation, then the upward motion continued.

“We’ve passed the thirty-fourth floor!” Elizabeth cried.

Bri shuddered. “Isn’t that the last one?”

The walls and ceiling vanished.

A wind whipped them into its grasp. They shrieked in unison. Bri wanted to drop her load and reach for her sister, but her fingers were frozen around the chest. She saw Elizabeth’s pale face, arms clutching the potato sacks.

They flashed through a rippling field of blinding rainbow light, an enveloping wave of sound. Nothing under Bri’s feet. She fell, jarred, as if she’d missed a couple of steps descending a staircase.

Her screams mingled with Elizabeth’s. They were together, at least. Chanting came around them, along with the chimes that pushed all Bri’s chakra buttons, the gong that had her dropping the chest and shuddering. She flung out her hand, found Elizabeth’s. They grabbed each other, clinging.

The chanting stopped. “Well, how about that,” said an accented voice. “Two for the price of one. And they brought spuds! Did we get this right, or what?”

Elizabeth hung on to Bri, who was trembling as much as she was. The chimes continued to rise and fall, touching her inside—her chakras if she was to believe Bri—stirring her. Everything echoed in her head: her thumping heartbeat—and her twin’s?—her ragged breath, whimpering.

Blinking again and again, Elizabeth saw a large circle of people surrounding them, holding hands. There seemed to be four different groups. Some obvious couples were dressed in matching colored tunics over chain mail and had a weapon at each hip. Others had silver or gold bands around their foreheads and wore long robes. A third group wore leather clothes and sheathed swords, a fourth bunch wore colorful pants and shirts or dresses. Most of the people appeared Asian. Golden skin, black hair with slightly different colored highlights, brown eyes. Silver or gold streaks in their hair at one or both temples. Beautiful features. Beautiful people.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Bri’s voice came in Elizabeth’s mind! She stared in shock at her sister.

Bri!

What!

I can hear you in my mind.

Me, too. A whisper.

“Welcome to Lladrana,” a woman said.

The gong sounded again and it was as if a surgeon clasped her beating heart. She and Bri screamed and swayed.

“It sounds as if they’re hurting. It’s not supposed to hurt that much, is it? I don’t recall. Marian!”

Elizabeth focused on the different voice. She saw a blue-eyed blond woman in leathers staring worriedly at her and Bri.

“Ohmygod,” Bri said thickly, turning her head. “Lladrana. I didn’t do it, twin!” Childhood words of utter truth tore from her. My itchy feet didn’t bring us here!

The chimes ran up and down the scale, once, twice…seven times. Noises wrung from Elizabeth merging with Bri’s. After the last tone reverberated, they huddled together on cold stones.

Bong! The final thump on the huge silver gong had them twitching.

Silence.

Shoving her sweaty hair away from her eyes, Elizabeth stared at the people again. They’d unlinked their hands.

Three women came to stand near them, outside a glowing green circle around a star on the floor. These three were Caucasian, though the tall, voluptuous woman with red hair and blue eyes appeared to have an Eastern European heritage.

She gestured and the green circle surrounding them subsided. “I’m Marian Harasta Dumont.” She touched a golden band around her forehead that showed lightning bolts and clouds, whorls that looked like wind, curvy waves. She, too, had a large streak of white in her hair. “I’m a Sorceress, called a Circlet of the Fifth Degree.

“Welcome to Lladrana, another dimension. We have Summoned you here on behalf of the Cities and Towns. A strange fatal illness has come and they requested medicas—doctors.”

Bri sat up straight, glowered at them, crossed her arms. Elizabeth kept her mouth shut.

The smallest person there, a woman with silver hair and wearing chainmail and hip sheaths spoke. “I’m Alexa Fitzwalter, come from Denver last year. I was an attorney. Here in Lladrana I am a Swordmarshall and use the Jade Baton of Honor.” She pulled out the baton. It flared green and silver and bronze. The flames atop it turned from metal to real.

Impressive.

Does her name sound familiar to you? Elizabeth asked Bri.

No, but attorney…would Uncle Trent have said something about her?

Maybe I want them to do all the talking, though, Elizabeth said.

Good plan.

The willowy blond cleared her throat. She wore a leather outfit. “I’m Calli Torcher Guardpont. I am the Volaran Exotique.” Her brief smile lit her face. “Flying horses.” She inclined her head to others dressed as she was, “and the knights who ride them, Chevaliers.”

I think I hit my head on the stones, Bri said.

Elizabeth turned to her and sent her fingers roaming over her sister’s skull. Without thought she drew power into herself, sent it flaring around Bri’s head, checking for any damage.

Breaths caught in gasps around them.

“You’re a doctor?” Alexa asked.

Neither of them answered. You’re fine. You have a hard head, Elizabeth said.

I’m having massive hallucinations.

You aren’t the only one.

“We know this sounds crazy, but it’s true,” Marian said. “We can prove you’re in another land. A place that needs you very much.” She pulled a stick about as long as her hand from her pocket. It grew and shaped into a wand. Then as Elizabeth watched, the piece of wood lengthened and thickened until it was a staff.

“They’re not believing us.” Marian sighed.

“It takes a while,” Alexa muttered.

“Yes, but it should be easier with a welcoming party like us,” Marian said.

Bri snorted.

“Neither one of them looks like the woman we’ve been having those intense dreams about.” Alexa shrugged, peered at them. Then said, “How long are you going to sit there and let us stare at you and talk about you?”

I vote forever, Bri said to Elizabeth. Hallucinations have to end sometime. Someone will find us in the elevator.

Elizabeth chuckled.

The blond woman’s, Calli’s, eyes narrowed. “Do you get the idea that they’re mentally talking to each other?”

“Twins,” said the short one, Alexa, philosophically. “And they’re very Powerful, you can hear the strength of their Songs. Telepathy might be the first thing they notice.”

Good guess, Elizabeth said to Bri.

They’re all sharp. And now that she mentioned it, I, uh, hear tunes coming from everybody.

Elizabeth tilted her head. She was concentrating on her own vital signs, her pulse, her breathing, and Bri’s, but beyond that she could hear small tunes emanating from each person. Sometimes it was comprised of more than one melody. She focused on Marian’s and discovered the tune became less of a string and more of a woven rope—and led to a black-haired, blue-eyed man standing behind her.

Bri had followed her thoughts. Interesting.

“Time for plan B,” Alexa said. She gestured to a tall man with powerful shoulders dressed in gray raw silk shirt and trousers. He gave them a half-bow. His expression was serious, his eyes haunted. He left.

Bri’s fingers twined in Elizabeth’s. That bad feeling is back.

Yes.

“The baby thing worked for me,” Alexa said conversationally. “Twice.”

I definitely don’t like where this might be leading, Elizabeth said.

“Children worked for me, too, in a different way,” Calli said softly. She held out her hand and a man came up and stood with her. A definite couple. Their Song spiraled out and snagged Elizabeth, so strong and loving and tender that she had to block it out because it reminded her of what she’d lost with Cassidy. She turned away from the sight of them.

Bri squeezed her hand. They look very married, and he’s definitely a native. Marian’s guy, too.

Elizabeth shivered. At that moment the large door opened and the man wearing gray strode back in. He held a small, limp body in his arms.

“Oh, no!” Elizabeth and Bri said.

He walked straight up to where they sat and carefully laid the boy of about three before them. The man’s expression was stark. “Mortee.” He dies.




3


Elizabeth and Bri went to opposite sides of the boy, reached for him. His breath wheezed, his face was pale and grayish compared to the golden-peach complexions of the healthy adults. He opened his eyelids. A horrified noise escaped Bri at the milky film covering his eyes.

“Do you recognize these symptoms?” Bri asked, staring at her sister. She pushed the boy’s limp hair back from his forehead, gently turned his head to look in his ears, opened his mouth. His tongue showed a white coating too.

“Um,” Elizabeth unbuttoned the boy’s shirt, put her hand on his chest. “Erratic and thready.”

“Don’t give me doctor-speak comparisons. Do you recognize this?”

“You never left people without hope,” Elizabeth muttered.

“Twin,” Bri said, “there’s magical energy all around us.”

“Illusion.” Elizabeth glared. “He needs a hospital.”

“We’ve already tried everything. People are dying every day.” Tears dribbled down Calli’s cheeks. She and the other two women who spoke English kept close.

“We can help him with our healing gift!” Bri said.

Elizabeth lifted her palms from the small boy. “I can’t do anything without my instruments. Antibiotics, drugs!”

Alexa shifted her weight, looked at Elizabeth, met Bri’s gaze. “We’ve done all we could.”

Elizabeth folded her arms, held her opposite elbows tight. “Everything’s too strange,” she whispered. “Magic doesn’t work.”

With a set mouth and steady stare at Elizabeth, Bri stretched her arms, flexed her fingers, placed her hand on the boy’s forehead and groin. She blinked as the air around her glowed, hummed.

Bri looked at Elizabeth, neat and tidy. It would be so much easier with her sister helping. Too bad. She’d have to fling herself into the healingstream alone, as usual. Elizabeth hunched her shoulders, glanced away. She wasn’t used to working outside a clean hospital, depending on the healingstream and herself. Focusing on the boy, Bri opened herself to the healingstream. Only complete dedication would save the boy’s life. She grabbed for the current.

Energy slammed into her, through her. She thought she heard Elizabeth gasp. Bri’s hands turned fiery with green flames. The boy’s body arched and jumped. Oh, God, oh, God, she’d killed him.

She flung herself back. Her legs tangled. Her head hit hard stone. Commotion erupted around her. Her mind spun, she was afraid to look at her hands. Her fingertips must have blackened from the force of what she’d taken hold of.

She was used to a stream of healing energy, not a raging river. Awesome.

Fearsome.

Her heart stopped thundering the same time her vision cleared—or she had enough sense to blink. She stared up at a circular room, with windows high in the wall. Stained glass alternated with clear. Rough beams were studded with opaque white crystals. Stones that held energy like batteries. Too many crystals to count. She’d plugged into a huge power source.

Would any place on Earth have such a potent psi-magical energy current? Doubt gnawed. The more she ignored it, the stronger it became.

The flow had held a tang of otherness. Usually she’d tap into the healingstream, taste what she only knew as Mother Earth. A current of energy straight from the core, smelling like molten lava, tasting like the richest soil. Those sensations had been absent, other sensual cues had come instead.

“Twin,” she croaked, and turned her head.

Elizabeth didn’t look at her. She was on her feet, next to the man who’d scooped up the boy. Bri felt her mouth drop open. The kid was squirming like any healthy and active youngster. Ohmygod.

The boy’s eyes were wide open, bright and brown. His skin looked rosier than most everyone else’s. Pale and trembling, Elizabeth had turned doctor and was lifting her hand from his forehead. Then she stuck out her tongue at him and he returned the gesture. Appeared red enough to Bri.

Ohmygod.

Not God, you, Elizabeth said stiltedly in Bri’s mind.

Bri swallowed and watched her twin trail her fingers over the boy’s cheek. Now well hydrated, almost chubby.

Elizabeth shuddered. You saved a life. Slowly, she met Bri’s gaze, her own full of shocked disbelief. You saved a life with…with….

Healing hands. She glanced down, they weren’t black.

The man holding the boy said something and the redhead—Marian—translated the twisted French-like words. “There are other sick outside in the cloister walk. We brought everyone from Castleton, fifteen sick. One died before you came.”

Elizabeth stared at Bri, hands fisting. Bri sensed her yearning to help. But Elizabeth would have to admit to having a gift. Which she’d denied since they were teens. Would she help?

Elizabeth stretched out her hand. “Twin?”

Bri rocked to her hands and knees, levered herself to her feet. Swaying, she reluctantly lifted one foot, then the other, stamping them down to ground herself, connecting again with—not Mother Earth. She ignored a heart twinge, took a step, saw Alexa sidling toward the bags of potatoes and had a flash of insight.

“Those potatoes are ours! So’s the food chest.” She glanced around. Who could they trust to guard their “treasure”? As she focused on people, she heard tunes coming from them. Most were fascinated, many were grateful, only one had an essential defining characteristic of pure honesty. She nodded to the guy dressed all in white leathers. “Will you keep our belongings for us?” she asked in careful French, gesturing to their pile of stuff, including Elizabeth’s healthy back bag and Bri’s solar-paneled backpack containing her cell, her PDA, her music player. All those would help in discovering whether the others spoke the truth and she and Elizabeth were in a different place.

The man nodded and came to stand near their things, careful not to touch them. His nostrils flared, he closed his eyes and shuddered, but his face remained impassive.

Narrowing her eyes, Alexa shot Bri a speculative look. “You heard enough of his Song to choose him to watch your stuff.”

That deduction jolted Bri, emphasized the strange things that were happening.

“Bri,” Elizabeth called from near the big door.

Bri turned and scanned the round room. She and Elizabeth might have to return here, recreate the setting. So she stopped to soak in details before her mind focused on other, more critical matters.

The gong was gigantic and polished silver about nine feet in diameter. The altar had lamps made of precious gemstones containing flickering candles. A small mallet lay by the lamps. Since they were in the colors associated with the seven chakras, Bri figured they served as light and the chimes. Her stomach quivered as she recalled their effect on her.

The room was a huge cylinder of white stone, with sections partitioned off by tall, fancily carved wooden screens like she’d seen in India. The large rectangular pool she’d skirted smelled of herbal water—acacia, lavender, something resinous—Balm of Gilead?

Built-in stone benches circled the room, their hard lines broken with colorful pillows in all sizes.

People had gathered in clumps, usually those dressed alike, and were studying them. The way Alexa, a small woman, strode through the chamber let Bri know that she expected most people to get out of her way, and they did. An attorney from Denver, huh? Well, she’d certainly made a name for herself here. The thin scar on her cheek, the toughness of her body and the weapons that she wore made Bri’s bad feeling return.

One more step and she reached Elizabeth and the man, who was a lot taller than Bri expected, with big shoulders and a body that looked as if he did hard labor every day—but not with the air of a soldier that Alexa had.

“So,” Alexa said with a measuring look. “Your name is Bry? Brianna?”

It was Brigid. Bri shared a glance with Elizabeth. How much to say? Were names power here? Should they hide their names? When neither of them answered Marian sighed.

The man handed the child to another guy dressed in pants and shirt. He put his fingers near his heart and bowed deeply. “Sevair Masif,” he said. Looking straight in Elizabeth’s, then Bri’s eyes, he spoke and Bri got the gist of heartfelt thanks since his words were halting and full of rich tones.

Marian translated, “Thank you. We have lost several from this dread disease, but not one so young. He is an only child of a widow and his mother treasures him. Thank you.”

Bri inclined her head. Elizabeth pressed her lips together. In regret that she hadn’t helped cure the boy? In denial that she could have helped with…magic?

Marian’s mouth curved in a smile that Bri distrusted. The Sorceress held out a little bottle. “One drop of this would banish that language barrier for an hour, though you both seem to know French.”

“A little,” Elizabeth said.

“Some,” Bri said.

“No,” they said together as they stared at the bottle.

Marian’s smile faded. She tilted her head in the direction of the door. “Additional patients await you outside. It will be more efficient if you can speak well to direct us.”

Alexa said, “We all work in healing circles, but we haven’t been able to effect any cures. More cases surface every day, more deaths every week.”

Do we dare leave here? Elizabeth asked.

Bri licked her lips. They sound as if they need us.

“Why does everyone have to be bribed to take the potions?” Marian said.

The blond woman who was dressed all in leathers, Calli, smiled at this. “Oh, just because we’re not stupid.” She glanced at the twins. “It does work.”

Cocking her head, Bri said, “What’s the bribe?”

“I answer every question you have for two hours,” Marian said promptly.

“If this is really a different place, you promise to send us home,” Bri countered.

“Can’t be done,” Marian said, with a finality that left no argument. She gestured to the groups of people drifting toward them. “It took all of us to Summon you here. Returning you is an even greater feat.”

The big door was flung open and a hysterical woman shot in. She saw the boy and shrieked, grabbed him. Bri and Elizabeth moved instinctively, then checked as the woman began kissing his face all over, hugging him tight, tears pouring from her eyes.

Moaning came from outside. Twin? asked Elizabeth.

Bri squared her shoulders, tried a hard expression as she looked at Marian. “You three know English and this mangled French. You can translate.”

“Three days,” Marian said. She drew herself up. “I’ll be at your disposal for three days.”

“Take her up on it,” Alexa advised.

Bri’s hand met Elizabeth’s and they linked fingers as if they were little girls again. Bri felt wonder, the willingness to heal…. “We don’t anticipate being here three days,” Bri said. “Someone will find us in the elevator.”

“Elevator?” Alexa sounded fascinated. “You came here by elevator?”

They left the room for a covered outdoor portico. Before them was a huge courtyard surrounded by dark shapes of buildings like a medieval Castle in excellent condition.

The air! Elizabeth said.

Much more humid than Denver.

No traffic sounds.

The smells are different, too. Rain, wet stone, even the people smelled subtly different than any other culture Bri’d visited.

Sevair Masif turned right, toward the sound of moaning. A tide of pain swept to Bri from Elizabeth, who’d gotten hit first. Her twin doubled over. Bri bent down and hugged her, reached again for the energy flow, felt it rush as if a faucet had been turned on above her. The current washed away the echoes of pain, let her put a thin bubble of protection between her and their patients’ hurting. She helped Elizabeth erect mental shields.

Sevair had stopped and turned to observe them.

Bri became aware of reverberating sound—this time thready melodies that pulled at her heart with a yearning to mend. She was still considering the strange notion that she could hear tunes coming from people when Elizabeth straightened, squeezed her hand, then crossed the stone courtyard with a steady step. Her sister headed to a covered walk along what looked like a Castle keep—cloisters, with lacy stone half-walls and open “windows.”

Elizabeth looked down the walk, her emotions amplified and easily felt by Bri. Pity. Hope. Most of all, the desire to help, to heal. She looked at Bri.

“Are you with me?”

They exchanged a glance. Bri could almost see the reflection of herself in Elizabeth’s eyes, knew Elizabeth thought of her as a new-age rebel exploring fringe healing. Did Elizabeth sense how Bri saw her—a buttoned-down doctor?

Someone cried out. Elizabeth flinched. “You saved a life.” And I stood aside, she added mentally, blinking hard.

Don’t beat yourself up. I took a familiar risk.

Elizabeth sighed. I’m willing to risk it with you. “Can we heal fifteen?”

“We won’t know until we try. We’ll give it our best shot.”

Elizabeth nodded. Bri hurried over, all too aware of otherness surrounding her. She joined Elizabeth and saw cots set up all along the walkway.

Elizabeth sent red-headed Marian a cool glance. “Take us to the worst cases, first.” Marian spoke to a man and a woman who wore red tunics with white crosses on them, and they went to the far end of the corridor. Elizabeth and Bri followed.

Glancing down as she followed her very impressive twin, Bri saw that the people were definitely different from those who’d been in the round building. Their clothes were shabbier, seemed more lower and middle class. She clenched her jaw; she wanted to help. Elizabeth had positioned herself on one side of a pallet. Bri took the opposite side. Elizabeth had also set her teeth.

Relax, she sent to Elizabeth, opening her own mouth to ease her jaw muscles.

I am relaxed.

Check your jaw and shoulders.

Elizabeth stiffened, then moved a little, loosening her shoulders and her stance. She took a slow breath in and relaxed her muscles as she exhaled. When she looked at Bri, her eyes gleamed from a pale face. All this strangeness was getting to them both, but the restless shifting and the sheer hurt of the sick people around them demanded their attention.

Other people had followed, most standing in the courtyard outside the cloister windows. The three Caucasian women—Alexa, Marian, and Calli—remained near.

Bri stepped up to their first patient, an elderly woman. The woman had a slow, thin tune with little embellishments. Bri put her left hand on her head.

Yes, said Elizabeth, you take her head. I don’t trust myself to send the proper amount of energy to her head. A shiver rippled through her.

It was cooler here, especially in the stone cloister walk, than in Denver. Or maybe it was just later in the night.

Elizabeth spread the fingers of her right hand over the woman’s heart, Bri extended her own right-hand fingers, with one finger touching Elizabeth’s over the woman’s abdomen, felt loose flesh, the laboring of lungs. Milky eyes stared up at her. Bri swallowed hard. The woman was as tall as the rest of these people. Elizabeth set her other hand, spread to touch Bri’s, over the woman’s crotch.

Bri and Elizabeth matched gazes, breaths.

“Ready?” asked Bri.

Elizabeth nodded. You handle it.

Fear puddled in Bri’s stomach, but she shut it away, hoping her sister couldn’t sense it. She opened herself to the energy. She pulled, gently, gently. It rushed through her like a river. She felt the briskness of the night, an effervescence that twinkled like stars in the sky outside the walk. She swayed.

A woman clasped her shoulders, helped ground and steady her, though she didn’t seem able to grip or work the healingstream. Marian.

Incredible, echoed in Bri’s mind from the sorceress, went to Elizabeth. I’ve never sensed Power like this.

Elizabeth, mind sharper than Bri’s, monitored their patient, cut the healingstream when they were done. Bri wriggled her shoulders and Marian stepped back.

“She’s still very dehydrated and undernourished,” Elizabeth said, looking to Sevair Masif who stood near, and Marian translated. “You’ll ensure that she gets additional treatment?”

“Of course,” said a female dressed in a red robe with a white cross. A medical person.

“Good,” Bri said. The one word was harder to form than she expected.

“Next?” Elizabeth said in a too-brusque voice as if squelching fear. The healingstream was new to her. Elizabeth might have used a surge of healing energy from herself, or touched on the stream, but had never opened herself to it.

Bri had been the one kicking around the world, finding herself in villages or refugee camps with people who needed help while she only had her hands and the healingstream to depend upon. Many times that had not been enough. Then she grasped a wispy thought of Elizabeth’s. She was thinking how she’d shut herself and her talent off and had depended only on her medical training, not her gift, except in rare instances. Many times all her knowledge and training had not been enough.

Once again Bri followed Elizabeth, and they began to establish a balance to handle the cycling energy. Elizabeth learned to open herself, Bri learned to limit and direct the healingstream. Marian stood behind Bri with her hands on her shoulders, steadying, supporting, but unable to join them.

By the time they’d helped six, Bri began to feel the whole jet-lagged incredible event-packed day wearing upon her and moved by rote, summoning the healingstream, sending it into sick bodies. She felt the shadow of Elizabeth’s thoughts as she studied and dismissed different diagnoses. Nothing was familiar about this sickness.

Somewhere between two hours and infinity they were finished and Bri was swaying on her feet. Elizabeth stood with the straightness of a woman refusing to give in to exhaustion then swung an arm around Bri’s shoulders and they were drawn to a moonlit opening to the courtyard. The cloister had been dark, too dark to work in, why had they?

“Light hurts the sick’s eyes,” Marian said, and Bri realized she and the other woman had shared enough of a bond for the Sorceress to pick up on her thoughts, even if they weren’t linked anymore. Dangerous.

“No,” said Marian. She bowed deeply, keeping her gaze on them. “I promise I will never hurt you. Either of you.”

“Huh,” said Bri. She started to lean on the edge of the stone door opening and missed. Was falling. Something oddly shaped set against her and pushed her upward. In the brief contact, she felt a different sort of energy wash through her, tingling from top to toe, clearing her mind, giving her own energy—and Elizabeth’s—a boost.

“Thank you—” She turned to her savior and gawked. A horse stood there, eyes huge and liquid and gleaming with…with…with magic? It whinnied and stepped back. Others like it stood in the courtyard. The smell of resinous amber crumbling into perfume wafted to Bri.

“They’re curious.” Calli walked past them into the stone courtyard and rubbed the horse’s nose. “They say you’re using Power they only dimly sensed and didn’t know how to access. One has gone to report to the alpha pair in Volaran Valley.” She pointed. Bri followed her finger to see a white horse. With wings. Soaring over the buildings on the opposite side of the courtyard and off into a night sky that held too many stars.

Impossible.

Elizabeth stiffened into rigidity. Impossible.

Another whicker came and Bri looked to the horse that had propped her up. Slowly it opened wings at its sides, spread them—huge feathery things.

Ohmygod, Bri said.

Ohmygod, Elizabeth said.

“Ohmygod,” she and Elizabeth said together.

“You’re not in Colorado anymore,” Alexa said.




4


Elizabeth was holding onto sanity as if it was the unraveling edge of a ratty blanket. Too much strangeness. Everything—the people, the humid air, the sky showing too many stars, and most especially the winged horses.

One was still rubbing against Bri in mutual admiration.

Sevair Masif, the man who’d come from Castleton, was ensuring the care and comfort of his people with efficient orders to soldiers and servants. The knot of the more ostentatiously dressed people—including two of the three Coloradan women—attracted his attention. He gave one last order and joined them, crossing his arms and raising his chin.

“We agreed that should the Summoning of the medica be successful and if she fulfilled our great and desperate need, she would stay here at the Castle tonight. The ladies are tired. Why are they not being led to their quarters?” The soft translation came to Elizabeth’s ear and she turned her head to see Calli smiling at her.

Calli lifted a shoulder, sighed. “They argue. Sevair’s a good man, just obsessed with frinks.”

“Frinks?” Elizabeth asked.

“Metallic worms that come with the rain. The dark sends them, too.”

Elizabeth wished she hadn’t asked.

“One of your tasks will be to smooth the way between the City and Town segment of society and the rest.”

Elizabeth shook her head, looked at Calli, then at Bri who was examining one of the horse’s wings. She seemed familiar with the animals, at least was probably familiar with wingless ones. Another change. Somewhere, sometime Bri had learned about horses. No doubt she’d traveled where a horse was still considered a necessity. Elizabeth gestured to the horse and Bri. “Why aren’t you supervising?”

“You’re sharp,” said Calli. “Remembered that I’m the one who was Summoned for the volarans and Chevaliers.” She followed Elizabeth’s gaze. “I can see auras, you know.”

“No.” If she denied all this it might go away

“Yes. Most folks here depend upon their ears and their Power to hear Songs. I hear the Songs, but auras are easier for me. Thunder is a curious volaran, and it’s difficult to ignore the fact that the horses have wings. Not something you’d see on Earth. Thunder is giving your twin sister some energy.” Calli narrowed her eyes. “Some of that is passing into you.” Nibbling on her lip, Calli continued. “It takes a while to become used to Lladrana. We, the other Exotiques and I, hoped to make your transition easier. It didn’t seem to work.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “With sixteen people in the throes of sickness needing medical help?”

Calli winced. “I suppose that would have been the equivalent of me riding most of the Castle volarans.” She met Elizabeth’s gaze steadily. “I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry. The townspeople are desperate. None of the medicas in Lladrana have found a cure for this new disease and people are dying.” Calli squinted at Bri, then back at Elizabeth. “You and your twin had a basic similar layer of green in your auras when you came but different upper layers. That’s interesting. But the bond between you two when you arrived wasn’t nearly as strong as it is now.”

Elizabeth didn’t want to hear any of this.

A man dressed in such an understated and tailored style of leathers that proclaimed him wealthy joined them. He bowed, then looked expectantly at Calli.

“This is Faucon Creusse, a nobleman and Chevalier.”

“Chevalier?”

“Knight, like I said.”

Faucon said something, and Calli translated. “An impressive display of Power by the new Exotiques, as usual.”

Before Elizabeth could answer, the discussion between the leaders got heated.

An older woman snapped something, and Calli delivered the words but didn’t match the tone. “Of course we have plenty of space, but we only prepared for one and it’s evident that they will not want to be separated.”

Masif stood solid. “We townspeople have many places where the Exotiques can stay. We paid to have them Summoned. They are our—” he glanced from Elizabeth to Bri, who were both watching him, nodded in acknowledgment and finished “—guests. They should stay in the city.”

“Not tonight,” said the woman.

Calli added, “That’s Lady Knight Swordmarshall Thealia Germain, she’s the head of the Marshalls and runs everything.”

Faucon gave another half bow to Elizabeth then turned and stepped up to the group. “Of course the sisters would prefer to room together. Which is why I requested a suite be prepared in Alyeka’s tower for them.”

“I’d like to keep them in my tower,” Thealia said. The streaks of gold at her temples were so wide they nearly reached the middle of her head. A sign of nobility? Both Faucon’s temples showed swaths of silver.

At that moment a horrendous siren went off.

Elizabeth jumped.

Bri stumbled as the volaran she was leaning against hopped away.

The courtyard was full of people and now every one of them was moving. Some were racing away to a point Elizabeth couldn’t see; the healthy townsfolk had stepped back to crowd the cloisters. Volarans alit in the courtyard and the Chevaliers—those in leathers—jumped on their backs, along with some of the younger people who had a sheath on each hip.

Thealia, the older woman, turned and scrutinized the action like the head of the hospital checking the emergency room in a crisis, and Elizabeth’s stomach tightened as she sensed there was a disaster in progress. “What?”

“I wondered.” Marian, the sorceress, circlet, whatever, reached Calli at the same time as Bri. She looked at Calli, jerked her head to the small white-haired woman who joined them. “Four Summonings. Four times the Dark has attacked very soon after.”

“Connected,” the small woman, Alexa said. Her serious gaze watched the refined chaos and her left hand went to the cylindrical leather sheath at her side.

Bri had linked arms with Elizabeth and she could feel nerves thrumming through her twin.

A slightly shorter, muscular man who moved with grace whirled Alexa up in his arms. “Let’s go!”

“We fight? It’s not our rotation,” Alexa said.

“I have a bad feeling. I don’t want Pascal and Marwey to lead the youngsters. We’ll do that.”

Alexa met Elizabeth’s gaze, then Bri’s. “Later. This is my husband, Bastien, by the way.”

Elizabeth wanted to call them back.

“Must you?” cried Bri.

But Alexa and Bastien merely waved.

“They’ll triumph, as usual,” said Marian.

“Yes,” added Calli.

But both women’s faces showed anxiety.

“How many will we lose?” murmured Calli. “Who will we lose?”

Elizabeth stepped closer to Bri. Again she thought she should offer to do something—what?

Bri said, What in God’s name could we do? We know NOTHING about this place. But they shared flickering along their nerves as if they should spring into action, too.

The activity in the courtyard separated into patterns—those who flew away and those who stayed.

Thealia, the leader, snapped out a few orders and said something to Calli and Marian.

“Another interminable war council in a few minutes,” Calli said.

Bri flinched beside Elizabeth, and Elizabeth finally let herself realize what she’d sensed all along—these people had many reasons for Summoning them, and the primary one was because of a war.

A disease was one thing, a war quite another. She didn’t want to be here.

As if she’d read Elizabeth’s mind—could they do that?—Marian said, “They don’t fly to fight other humans. They fly to fight monsters and save a world. A world we need your help to save, too.”

Worse and worse.



Bri leaned against one of the fancily carved columns of cloister “windows” opening onto the courtyard. The stone was cold and hard and had the unmistakable feel of reality. She much preferred being propped up by a winged horse and tingling with energy, stuff of dreams.

Calli kept up a running commentary and translation.

At that moment the man in the white leathers appeared carrying the cooler they’d left in the huge, circular room. Atop the chest the sacks of potatoes were neatly stacked. Elizabeth’s bag’s strap crossed his chest, and the loop of Bri’s big backpack was over his shoulder. He carried them all easily.

Calli frowned at him. “Luthan, you’re not fighting?”

His jaw clenched and he nodded, showing no emotion. “I have instructions from the Singer to remain at the Castle or in the town for the first two weeks after the Exotiques arrive.” His voice gave nothing away, but a ripple of shock passed through the others.

“She said two would be coming?” asked Marian, seeming to throb with irritation and curiosity.

Luthan said, “She said at least two.”

Silence draped the cloister. He let the statement hang, then bowed—with cooler—to Elizabeth and Bri. “I am Luthan Vauxveau, brother to Bastien, the pairling of Exotique Alyeka. I am also the representative of the Singer, the oracle of Lladrana, to the Marshalls. I sit on their councils to inform her what transpires here.”

“It would be good if she kept us equally informed,” Thealia said.

“The Singer is the Singer,” Luthan said.

“Not the same as the rest of us, that’s for sure,” Calli muttered. She caught Bri’s eye. “A prophetess.”

The leaden weight of exhaustion was ready to flatten Bri. Despite the spurts of adrenaline since she’d arrived, and the various sources of energy that poured into and through her, there was only so much a body could take. Except for a quick nap at Elizabeth’s that afternoon, she’d been going nonstop for too many hours.

“Where do I put this chest?” Luthan asked expressionlessly. From the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, Bri thought he was under a mental or emotional strain. His hands were sheathed in gauntlets.

“I can take that—” she offered, pushing away from the wall, but the handsome Faucon stepped forward.

“I will carry the ladies’ treasures.” He took the cooler and potatoes from Luthan. “Marian and Calli, if you would show the new Exotique Medicas the way to the suite under Alyeka’s.”

Calli sniffed. “We argued, all wanting you near. Thealia won, but that was when there was one of you.” She shrugged. “Circumstances change rapidly in Lladrana.” She shot a glance at Bri. “A lot of stairs. You hanging in there?”

“Yes.” She had to shift back and forth to feel her feet, but she figured she could manage stairs. The weariness would hold off for a few minutes more.

Faucon waited for Marian and Calli and their men to precede him then took his place between Bri and Elizabeth as they followed. Luthan, still bearing the twins’ bags, fell into step.

They entered the keep and trudged up an endless number of stairs around a tower, went through a door and marched singly through a narrow security corridor to enter a wedge-shaped bedroom in purple. There was one huge bed and a smaller one.

“My valet has arranged for the extra bed and wardrobe,” Faucon said, sweeping the room with a glance. “I will put the food in the dining room.” He disappeared and Bri heard the opening and closing of more doors. When he returned he glanced at Bri and Elizabeth and winked. “Most defensible.” So he’d seen how Alexa had salivated over the potatoes, too.

“Where do you want these, ladies?” asked Luthan, removing the bags and holding them at arms’ length.

Elizabeth gestured to a low wooden chest at the bottom of the big, curtained bed. The room was crowded with the smaller bed, two large wardrobes, a set of chairs, and love seat, all shoved against the large circular wall under a row of windows.

Bri tottered a little and Elizabeth was there, wrapping her arm around her waist, and it felt good to be with her sister again, not alone in this strange dream.

“Thank you all,” Elizabeth said with the authority of a hospital physician.

“You’re welcome,” Marian and Calli said at the same time.

“We’ll leave you alone now, but if you have any concerns, just holler,” Calli said.

“We’ll be back tomorrow morning,” Marian said.

Elizabeth nodded at the same time Bri did.

Faucon stopped before them and raised Elizabeth’s hand to his lips, kissed her fingertips. “Vel-coom to Lladrana,” he said in heavily accented English. Bri got the impression it was his only English and he’d been saving it.

Then he kissed Bri’s hand and she sensed great satisfaction from him. He was pleased he could provide the new Exotiques with amenities. She caught the thought—more emotion really—Which one is mine?

Uh-oh.

But he was gone the next moment, closing the door behind him and Bri was left staring at it and doubting what she’d thought she’d heard. Sensed. Felt. Oh, hell.

They were alone. At least inside the suite, Bri hadn’t heard as many footsteps leave as those who had accompanied them. Guards?

She supposed she could send a mental probe and figure out who was there. Just the idea that she was contemplating such a weird action made her stomach twist.

“Bri?” Elizabeth’s voice was laden with concern.

“I’m hanging in there. Been a long day.” She wondered if anything would happen if she braced a hand against the wall that the bed was against. It was either that or collapse in a heap, so she did so. The pretty pattern wasn’t paper. It was silk. She shook her head to banish gray exhaustion from her vision and saw that Elizabeth had checked out two doors and left them open.

“Study.” Elizabeth pointed left. “Bathroom.” To the right. “Then dining room.”

Bri stared at the bed. Bigger than a California king. Of course the Lladranans were a big people, larger than American average, or American big. They pampered themselves, with beds that big and a damask comforter filled with down atop it.

Elizabeth sniffed. She had a tissue in her hand.

“Oh, Elizabeth!” Bri stumbled to her, found her and they held each other and rocked, as they’d done often when life had overwhelmed them in childhood. Privately, because this was their own twin thing.

Bri, I’m frightened.

Me, too.

You’re the adventuress. Do you think we’re really somewhere else?

Either that or the elevator crashed and we have massive trauma and are either in comas or dead and not moved on yet.

Choking, Elizabeth said, “That’s what I thought. Am thinking. I think.”

“Therefore you is. You always think. But both logic and emotion lead me to believe we’re alive and functioning and in a different, uh, realm. We’re together, you’re not in my dream. Or maybe you are. Should I say something I know that proves to you that I’m me and here?” She thought a little. “I found this really excellent rock group in Sweden and had an affair with the drummer and even followed him around on a European tour.”

“You!” Elizabeth’s head jerked as though from a blow and her arms loosened. Her eyes were wide with shock.

Heat flooded Bri from her feet to tickle her scalp. She winced and gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah. I’m susceptible to lust and infatuation just like anyone else. He found someone who’d flatter him more and dumped me.” Not the whole truth.

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed and she swept a glance up and down Bri. She raised her hands. “Hey, I’m all right. I can be sensible. No sexually transmitted diseases. No pregnancy.”

With a final scan and a blink, Elizabeth crossed her arms. Bri held out hers again, and they hugged, stepped back, but kept their hands linked.

“All right,” Elizabeth said. “That sounds so you, but I never would have imagined it. Never.”

“Your turn,” Bri said. “You pretty much acted like I’d expect if this was all my dream. Prove you’re you.”

Elizabeth’s jaw clenched. She dropped Bri’s hand, looked away, blushed a fiery red, and Bri heard her answer telepathically. Cassidy was—is—into light bondage. And I liked it, too.

Bri’s mouth fell open. She stared. Elizabeth’s arms were crossed again and she still wasn’t looking at Bri.

“You’re right. That’s something I’d never think of.” Her turn to study her twin. “But you were both wound too damn tight. I can see…no, I don’t think I want to see. Just let me ask. One or both of you, um…”

“We took turns.” Elizabeth’s voice was stifled. She finally met Bri’s eyes and said, “And you reacted just like I’d expect you to.”

They stared at each other, then cracked up, falling together again. When they’d finished with the bout of hysterical laughter, Bri took a tissue, wiped her eyes, then blew her nose.

“For the record,” Elizabeth said in a serious tone. “Sexual preferences aren’t necessarily determined by stress or how ‘tightly’ a person is wound.”

“Huh. I heard that sometimes high-powered professional women such as yourself—”

“So, tell me, Ms. Free Spirit. Haven’t you ever done it?”

Again heat rose in Bri. “I’ll take the fifth, but I will say it never became a standard sexual practice.”

Elizabeth smiled wickedly. “We aren’t identical.”

“One last thing, what’s your favorite number?”

Bri waited a beat, then said, “Forty-two,” at the same time Elizabeth did. “I think I have to sit down.”

“The beds—”

“Definitely not the bed,” Bri said. “If I hit a bed, I’m gone, and we need to talk. You got any chocolate in your purse?”

Going to the chest, Elizabeth took her black healthy back bag and clutched it. “Maybe.”

“Me, too. I’ve got a feeling that we’ll have to be careful of it or those others will pinch it or expect us to share. Let’s see how much.” With slow steps, Bri reached the chest, then hefted her backpack with the solar panels on it. “Boy, am I glad I invested in this.” She carefully spilled the contents. Her music pod, PDA, digital camera, cell, and everything else she needed for a three-day hike.

Elizabeth pulled items from every pouch of her bag and lined the objects in little rows, glanced at Bri’s heap. “That’s it?” she gasped. “Two small candy bars. That is the extent of your chocolate cache!”

Bri winced. “I was hungry on the plane. I ate some.”

Elizabeth took Bri’s pack, shook it. Rustling came. She rolled her eyes. “You just dumped the bag, didn’t check the compartments.” Nimble fingers delved and found the unopened bag of the miniature bars Bri had purchased as well as two credit card holders and a lucky koala bear key chain.

“Oh, thank God!” Bri snatched the chocolate bag. Tears welled in her eyes. “You are a wonderful woman, twin.” The words were out of her mouth before she realized that Elizabeth’s chocolate stash was about twice the size of her own. Elizabeth still had the unopened bag of her dark chocolate treats, too.

“I wonder whether the others prefer milk or dark,” Elizabeth said.

Putting down her bag, Bri sorted her stuff. Electronics, pens and paper, food, water bottle, wallet and coin purse and loose change, keys, instant coffee, herbal tea bags…. “I bet it won’t matter. Chocolate is chocolate after all. We don’t let them know we have it.”

“You don’t think they have chocolate here?”

“I don’t want to take the chance.”

Elizabeth was packing her purse up again, sliding things in their proper pockets. “You’re right, and my chocolate is mine and yours is yours.”

Bri sent her a wounded look. “Would I take your chocolate?” “Yes.”

Sniffing, Bri said, “You’re right. Better hide it.”

“When I get home—” Elizabeth stopped, choked, dropped her bag, put her hands over her face and folded onto the love seat.

“Oh, honey.” Bri grabbed her own packet of tissues and sat next to her sister. “I know you’re scared. I am, too. But we’re in this together.”

“I don’t want to be in anything. Even if you are here.”

Bri rested her head on Elizabeth’s. She didn’t dare let go of her control or she’d be asleep in two seconds. “I’m sorry.” She blinked and blinked again to keep her eyes open.

Elizabeth’s muscles tensed as she gathered her own control. It wasn’t often Elizabeth broke down, and Bri could only imagine the emotional roller coaster her twin had been on lately. Not surprising this hit her hard. It might be hitting Bri equally hard if her mind wasn’t so fuzzy.

“I love you, sis, but I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I don’t know how to help you.”

After wiping her eyes and blowing her nose, Elizabeth threw away their tissues in a wastebasket, then said brusquely, “Just weariness. Now let’s get serious. What sort of meds do we have?” Once again she opened her bag and brought out a small gold-toned pill box that Bri had given her on their last birthday. She flipped it open and showed a few over-the-counter analgesics.

Bri winced. “That’s it?”

“You know I don’t carry any sort of drugs on my person, and make sure everyone in the hospital knows that.”

“Yeah, yeah, good idea.” Bri fumbled through her stuff, withdrew a generic mega-bottle of American aspirin. “I used local remedies in Sweden.”

“That’s good.”

Bri separated a few baggies with a mixture of pills. “Herbs and vitamins.”

“What kind of herbs?”

“Um, Rhodiola Rosea.”

“Excellent,” Elizabeth said.

The only thing that looked remotely mainstream medical was a series of tin-foil–wrapped packets with little bumps of pills in them.

“What are those?” Elizabeth asked.

“Swedish cat antibiotics. I was taking care of a friend’s cat. It got better after one week instead of two.”

“What are the ingredients?”

“I don’t know.”

They stared at each other.

“We’ll have to keep them for emergencies.”

“How can you think of using—”

“If it came down to cat antibiotics or death, what would you chose?” Bri said brutally.

“You have a point.” Too anxious to sit still, Elizabeth stood and paced along the lined-up furniture, looking at the night-dark windows facing…what? She’d lost her sense of direction.

But the rooms of the Castle didn’t bother her as much as the people, the suffering people, she’d found here. “Do you really think we can turn this epidemic around?” Elizabeth asked, not at all sure, frightened of failure.

But Bri was asleep. She slumped against the back of the love seat, listing toward where Elizabeth had been sitting.

Elizabeth swallowed hard. Even exhausted, Bri had handled this whole thing so much better than she. Of course Bri was used to new people and places, learning to fit into a new culture.

Elizabeth went back to the couch and sat, studying her twin. Bri had really meant to settle down in Denver. How ironic that now her itchy feet had finally stopped, they were somewhere else. Elizabeth glanced at their pitiful cache of drugs. Aspirin, vitamins.

And healing hands. That thought tightened her throat. She’d denied her gift for so long. Suppressed it.

All she’d ever wanted was to be a good doctor.

Cassidy had discovered her secret. It had been the inciting incident of their last fight which had led to the end of their engagement.

If she let herself, she could hear murmuring around her—like a film soundtrack. And she was sure her retinas still held images of the auras she had actually seen. Automatically, she repacked her bag and Bri’s backpack. Then she changed herself and Bri into nightclothes and persuaded her sleepy sister to bed. Maybe this would all be a dream.




5


Bri woke and savored the coziness of sheets and warmth, definitely not the tiny, chilly apartment in Stockholm. Elizabeth certainly did herself proud. Did the family proud, including Bri herself. During college she’d had no doubt that Elizabeth would sail through medical school and become a brilliant physician like their mother. Now if Bri could only buckle down and master nursing school.

She yawned, stretched. The day before had been hard, the worry that she’d get home to Denver all right on standby. Those incredible dreams. She snorted. Imagine that, flying horses. She hadn’t dreamt of them before.

Opening her eyes to a canopy overhead showing an embroidered huge winged horse, she got the nasty feeling that she still hadn’t dreamt of them. She jackknifed up and the covers slid down, and the room was warm. She was covered in a large shirt, obviously not her own. There were buttons on the shoulders. A soft whuffling moan caught her attention and she looked over to see Elizabeth in the huge bed with her. Beyond the posts of the bed were windows set in a circular wall showing gray sky.

Tears had her eyes stinging. She wanted to be home, and not just Denver, but her old room with her old waterbed. A room that had been redecorated years ago. But at least she was supposed to be home in Denver. The yearning for it had gotten bigger and bigger in the past year and developed into a horrible homesickness. She wriggled her feet, not just to get her circulation, but to test. No signs of itchy feet.

She glanced at Elizabeth, who was wearing a pristine nightgown. Slipping from the bed, she went over to the large freestanding wardrobe that featured two doors with a couple of drawers beneath them. Opening the left door she saw only a smaller shirt and a larger shirt. Brought by Faucon? Or in case a man was Summoned? Opening a drawer, she found handkerchiefs, took one and blew her nose.

“Bri?” Elizabeth mumbled.

Bri froze. If she was feeling this bad, how would Elizabeth the homebody feel? How was she going to comfort her sister when she had little emotional strength herself?

But Elizabeth was sitting up in bed, looking around, eyes bright. She smiled at Bri, rolled her shoulders, linked her fingers and stretched. “Not in Colorado anymore.”

It occurred to Bri that to Elizabeth, leaving Colorado and her grief and problems might be a relief. Bri blew her nose louder, saw a large wicker basket with a linen sack that she figured was a laundry hamper, and tossed the used hankie inside. “Lladrana.” She remembered that much.

Recalled also that she had some power bars in her back-pack. Padding on thick carpets to the love seat, she grabbed her pack.

She hopped onto the high bed and under the covers and opened her satchel. Elizabeth probably would have put the food—yup, she unzipped the pocket, dipped her hand in and tossed a bar to her sister, while ripping the wrapping off one herself. “Thanks for sleeping with me. If I’d been alone, I mighta freaked.”

“I didn’t want to be by myself last night, either.” Elizabeth studied the wrapper. “What’s in this?”

Bri spoke around a mouthful of granola, raisins and yogurt bits. “Only healthy stuff, I swear, sweetened with rice syrup.”

Hastily Elizabeth peeled off the wrapper, dropped it over the side of the bed, took the shreds of Bri’s wrapper and did the same. Must be a wastebasket there. Elizabeth chomped down, made a humming noise. Chewed. Swallowed. Turned to Bri with crumbs on her lips. “This is really good.”

“Yeah.” Bri had already gobbled hers and wasn’t going to eat another one of what now must be rationed. She slipped from the bed and went to the windows.

“What do you see?” asked Elizabeth.

“Green fields and hills.” A movement caught her eye and she craned her head to the left. “Castle wall, garden, big dirt field. Pretty bustling down there. Soldiers. Those knights, Chevaliers, a couple of…of volarans. That city guy, Sevair Masif, all neat and tidy and pressed, watching this tower.”

“Any sign of The Three?”

Snorting with laughter, Bri withdrew from the window. As kids they’d always had nicknames for those in their lives, twin shorthand. “Nope.”

“How late is it?” Elizabeth was frowning, staring at the window.

“Hard to say. No sun, though I think the windows face west. A gray day.”

“How long do you think they’ll give us alone this morning?” Elizabeth asked.

“If they can sense resting versus waking energy patterns—”

A strumming came at the sitting-room door, then the rapping of a knuckle. Bri finished, “—I’d say not long at all.”

Hopping from bed, Elizabeth said, “Gotta pee,” and headed to the bathroom.

Bri never drank much on a travel day, but now that Elizabeth mentioned it…

More harplike notes.

She recalled the polished rosewood door to the suite had something like a Swedish door harp affixed to the door, without the little wooden balls, and with vertical strings.

She went to the outer door. “Give us a break, folks, we’re sharing a bathroom. And we don’t want you in our bedroom.”

There was some mumbling. There seemed to be a lot of life signatures beyond the door, and Bri was able to sense them easily. Scary.

“May we come in?” a voice asked in English.

Definitely at least The Three.

“Who all’s there?” Bri asked.

“Bri?” came Alexa’s voice.

Good ear. This being an aural society, they probably all had good ears, or like Bri had guessed before, they sensed energy patterns, too. Though Bri’s and Elizabeth’s energy patterns might be very similar, they wouldn’t be identical.

“Who all’s there?” she repeated, heard a flush and thanked God that there appeared to be modern plumbing. Water ran as Elizabeth washed her hands.

“Marian, Alexa, Calli, and our husbands,” Marian said. Bri had a good ear, too, and the voluptuous redhead’s voice was deeper, throatier than the others.

Bri backed up a couple of paces as Elizabeth walked into the room, dressed in her clothes from yesterday and not seeming too pleased about it. She’d have washed out their underwear, of course, before they fell into bed. “‘The Three’ have turned into ‘The Six.’”

“They brought their men? Why?”

Shrugging, Bri went to the bathroom. “Don’t know. At a guess, to show us a benefit of the place? Hunky husbands?”

Elizabeth snorted. “The last thing I need is a man in my life. Let me go through the bathroom to the dining room where there’s another door to the hallway.” She hustled past Bri, closing the door behind her, then faced the outer door. Her panties were still damp and she resented wearing them. If the women had been perspicacious enough to have nightgowns made, why couldn’t they have provided some decent underwear? All Elizabeth had seen were long-underwear type leggings and tops and she’d had enough of those all the last miserable winter long.

The Six. Huh.

“Elizabeth? This is your morning briefing. By now you would have realized that you’re here for a while. And we thought we’d help you get on,” Alexa said.

Elizabeth crossed her arms. “Bri is in the bathroom.” She heard sputtering water. “Showering. Come back later. With breakfast. I’ll take an egg white omelette and a piece of dry toast. Bri will have eggs scrambled with cheese. If this benighted land has coffee, bring two cups, hot and black.”

A male chuckle came as if in approval. “I don’t think they’re as disturbed as you expected them to be. You go get the food. We will stay here,” the man said. In English. One of the men knew English. Elizabeth couldn’t figure out whether that was a good sign or a bad one.

Marian said, “They have each other for support, so of course they are less affected than we were—being stranded in a strange dimension all alone.”

That’s what she thought. Elizabeth allowed herself an irritated sniff.

“But a discussion over food will be fine. I will, indeed, go, Jaquar.”

Who was Jaquar? Calli’s husband or Marian’s?

Alexa said, “I’ll hang here with the guys. A coupla croissants and butter and an omelette sounds good to me, too, with that cheese. And mushrooms!” Alexa called. “Too bad we don’t have hash browns.”

“I’ll go with Marian,” said Calli.

“Much running around,” said another male voice in English, very heavily accented.

Shifting from foot to foot, Elizabeth stared at the door, wondering if it would be beneficial to let the others in, four instead of six. Would it throw off their rhythm?

“It might,” Bri said next to her ear and Elizabeth jumped.

“Sorry,” Bri said. “You were thinking really loud.”

“Alexa and the men are out there.”

“Ah. Well I have the feeling that Alexa would be a handful by her very self.”

“True.” Elizabeth looked at Bri. She was wearing the leggings and the smaller shirt, with her bra underneath. Both Lladranan garments were made of cream-colored silk. “You look good.”

Bri shrugged. “The outfit works for the moment.” She smiled. “I didn’t want to put on damp panties.”

Elizabeth grumbled, “More humid here than in Colorado. Our underwear would have been dry if we were home.”

“Yeah.” Bri’s smile became a wicked grin. “Bet at least one of them is leaning against the door?”

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth frowned. “These are warriors. Would they do that?”

“One way to see.” Bri strode forward.

Bri yanked open the door.




6


No one fell into the room. Instead, with twinkling eyes and a smile as wide as Bri’s, Alexa strolled in. “Good morning. The greeting here in Lladrana is most often ‘Salutations.’” She waved to the men following her. “I don’t know if you remember the guys. Bastien, the one with the black-and-white streaked hair and the baton at his hip is a Shieldmarshall and mine. The taller one with blue eyes—ancient Exotique blood mixed with Lladranan—is Marian’s soulmate, Jaquar, a Sorcerer-Circlet, as you can see from his gold headband.”

Jaquar walked in, and like Bastien, gave the room and the open doors a quick scan. Neither of them would miss anything. Then Jaquar bowed, first to Bri who still held the door, then to Elizabeth. “Salutations,” he said. He spoke English well.

The last man was equally tall and had an easy amble that Elizabeth recognized was similar to a cowboy’s walk. He carried six books.

Deceiving, that last one, Calli’s man. He’s even more aware than the others, Bri said to Elizabeth.

Hands on her hips, Alexa studied them. “You’re talking to each other telepathically, again. Rude.”

“We think we should have all the advantages we can get,” Elizabeth replied. “And you will no doubt be speaking Lladranan before us.” She gestured. “Make yourselves at home.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Alexa said, heading for the angle between walls where the chest sat with the leftovers from their father’s birthday dinner.

Bri jumped in front of it at the last minute. “Ours!”

The third man holding the books gently closed the door. He made a short bow. “I am Marrec. I am with Calli.” His expression turned considering. “You will read in Calli’s book that I was in Co-lo-ra-do with her.”

With an effort, Elizabeth kept her mouth from falling open. Possibilities spun in her mind. “If you were in Colorado, then there’s some way to get back and forth. We can go home.” To her surprise, her heart didn’t leap in her chest in delight. She blinked and took a few instants to probe her own feelings. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go home right now.

Jaquar, wearing an ankle-length midnight blue velvet robe and looking every inch a very masculine man, took a seat on a long leather couch. Bastien hitched a hip onto the arm nearest the confrontation of Bri and Alexa opposite him. Marrec sat on the other end of the couch, as if leaving space for Calli and Marian. Still, Elizabeth could almost feel that these men trusted each other, more, were bound together through their wives. And their love for their wives?

Bri and she had grown up with parents who deeply loved each other and their children.

“We can go home!” Bri’s choked exclamation echoed in mind and words.

“It’s not that easy,” Marian said from the hall. Calli held a plate with one hand and the door knob with the other. Marian carried a large tray.

“You’d think with all the magic you have here, you could just beam that over,” Bri said.

“It’s not that easy,” Marian repeated.

The smell of eggs and coffee and ham made Elizabeth’s mouth water.

“Alexa, your omelette. With cheese and mushrooms,” Marian said.

“But you haven’t been gone very long, and the food looks fresh, so magic was used,” Elizabeth said.

“That’s right. Magic, which is called Power here, and more like the extension of psi powers—”

“Power can heat the food, but it’s harder to translocate things,” Calli said. “Especially more than one item at a time. And there’s an energy cost. You always have to figure what energy you might need for something else later.” She handed Elizabeth the plate. “Sit. We can talk over breakfast.”

“We often have breakfast discussions with our parents,” Elizabeth said.

Everyone looked at her then Bri.

“You have parents.”

“Of course,” Bri said impatiently. “Will one of you pass me my plate, please?”

Calli had gone directly to a gate-legged table against a wall. Marrec joined her in setting up the table and soon there was a crowded table for eight. Opening lower drawers of a cabinet, Calli set a cork hot plate down for the tray, then brought out dishes, mugs and silverware. Marrec took chairs set around the room and placed them. Everything looked familiar.

“There’ve been Exotiques from Earth here in Lladrana before,” Marian said. She’d found thick glasses that looked handmade and poured water into them.

“And Marrec went to Colorado,” Elizabeth said.

“It’s part of the Snap,” Alexa grinned. She still stood near Bri and the cooler. “That’s Marian’s topic.”

“Let’s eat,” Bastien said in the French-sounding Lladranan that Elizabeth barely understood.

Jaquar frowned at Bastien. “I told you we refined your language potion.” Since Jaquar still spoke English, Elizabeth deduced that Bastien had been following the conversation.

Bastien grunted, moved to a chair that had its back to the foam chest and held out his hand to Alexa.

She looked at the cooler. At Elizabeth. At Bastien. At Bri. After tapping her foot, she sighed and walked to Bastien, took his hand and stood tip-toe to brush a kiss over his mouth. But she moved to a chair where she could still see the chest.

Bastien rolled his eyes, shook his head and sat next to her. “I have eaten, but my belly can always accommodate one of these.” He unfolded the napkin on a large basket. Letting out steam from flaky croissants, he took one, set it on his plate, then ripped it into large pieces.

Alexa cut a third of her omelette and put it on Bastien’s plate, then she dug in.

Doesn’t look like they’re going to poison us, Bri sent mentally to Elizabeth.

Not since we survived the first night, but I’m sure they have plans for us. Images of the people they’d healed came to her mind, were matched by Bri’s memories. The flow of emotion between them was stronger than Elizabeth had ever experienced. Of course they’d had “hunches,” intuitive feelings about each other, but nothing like this connection that seemed to have thought sharing and definitely included telepathy.

Elizabeth shifted in her seat, picked up a fork, cut into the omelette and ate. Fabulous—and delicately flavored with spices she didn’t quite recognize.

“So,” Alexa said between bites, “welcome to Lladrana. You are now known far and wide as the Medica Exotiques Summoned for the Cities and Towns.”

“Already?” asked Bri, brows lowering.

“Already. The Sorcerers and Sorceresses, Circlets they’re called, had a contingent here for the Summoning. Some have flown back to their islands. All of them have crystal balls for communication.”

“Interesting,” said Bri.

Marian finished pouring coffee all around except for Alexa and stared pointedly at the Swordmarshall. Alexa chewed and swallowed, drank some water, met Elizabeth’s eyes, then Bri’s.

“I’m the background person, since I fight the horrors every week.” An unamused smile flashed, then was gone. “I was originally Summoned a year ago to help defend Lladrana, that’s this country, from invading evil. Centuries ago some warrior-mages made a boundary of magical fenceposts with an energy field strung between them to keep the horrors—inhuman monsters—out. The fenceposts started falling and the desperate Marshalls consulted the main oracle-prophetess here, the Singer. The oracle said that if the Marshalls Summoned someone from the Exotique Land, that’s Earth, she’d re-discover the method of making fenceposts and re-powering the boundary.” Now her smile crinkled her eyes. “To everyone’s surprise, it worked.”

Bastien leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Not surprising.”

“Yeah, it was.” Alexa’s face hardened. “I was the first Summoned in a century. Alone with the Marshalls. Tested immediately to prove I could handle the job.” She swept a gaze around the table. “You weren’t there. None of you.”

Marian sighed sympathetically. She pushed back her chair and went to the sofa where Calli’s guy, Marrec, had placed the books he’d carried in. Dividing the stack in two, she put one on the table beyond Bri’s plate, then one set near Elizabeth. The top cover was dark black hide Elizabeth didn’t recognize, with a green wand topped with flames embossed on it. The spine said, in English, Lorebook of Exotique Swordmarshall Alexa Fitzwalter. Underneath was a dark purple book showing sheet lightning on the spine with the words Lorebook of Exotique Circlet Marian Harasta.

“Circlet?” murmured Bri.

Alexa answered as Marian resumed her seat and drank the excellent coffee. “The society here is fragmented. The Circlets are the Sorcerers and Sorceresses of this place. They usually live in Towers they raise by magic as their final test on islands off the coast. Lladrana has one coast, the west.”

Alexa sipped her water, set the cup down, and smiled again at Marian. “But like all academics, the Circlet politics were vicious—”

“We simply did not cooperate well before Marian,” Jaquar said, haughty brows raised over blue eyes.

“Blue eyes,” Elizabeth said.

He inclined his head in a nod. “Yes, there has been some interaction between our cultures. Somewhere in my bloodline there was obviously an Exotique ancestor.”

“I understand the Lladranan people are golden-skinned and dark-haired with dark eyes,” Elizabeth said, observing the silver waves of hair that Jaquar and Marrec had at their temples, “but aren’t there other cultures here with lighter coloring?”

“Excellent observation,” Jaquar said. “Yes, occasionally we have traders, and it’s true I spent my formative years in the south, but blue eyes are most indicative of Exotique blood.”

“Okay,” Bri said. “So most people look like Marrec and Bastien.”

“Ttho,” said Bastien in a mock-offended tone, bridling back and staring down his nose. “No. I am a black-and-white.” He indicated his striped hair.

Alexa pinched a bit of buttered croissant from his plate, waved it. “Black-and-whites are those whose Power—that’s magic—is fractured, and they usually have mental problems.” She grinned and popped the croissant into her mouth.

“Bastien has been irritatingly brilliant all his life, but…” Jaquar said.

“A loose cannon,” Alexa said with relish. “I still like using English idiom. Most people look like Marrec.”

Elizabeth and Bri stared at Marrec, his golden skin, black hair with silver streaks over the temples, dark brown eyes set at a very slight angle. He sat stoically under their gaze.

“Yes, our patients had the same cultural features,” Elizabeth said.

“I fixed Bastien,” Alexa said, stretching to plant a noisy kiss on his jaw.

“Ayes,” Bastien said. A side of his mouth quirked up. “Well and truly,” he said in English. His eyebrows lifted at Marian’s and Jaquar’s stares. “I have been practicing.”

“Me, too,” said Marrec.

Alexa huffed. “Let’s get my part over with. Marian was Summoned by the Marshalls for the Circlets to help battle the Dark—that’s the really bad entity running the show—making the monsters and sending them here for some physical object that we still haven’t figured out.” She smiled winningly at Elizabeth and Bri. “In addition to curing the sickness, that could be your task for the world, Amee. And the Snap doesn’t happen until you fulfill your task, usually about two months. The Snap is the way back to Earth.” Alexa shook her head. “We knew it would take six to fight the Dark in the ultimate battle at the end of this summer. Didn’t think of twins. Thought of three more Summonings, the City, the Seamasters, the Singer. With us—” she gestured to Calli and Marian “—that represents the six core factions of Lladranan society.”

Bri said, “I’m not sure I followed all of that. But we certainly can’t stay until the end of summer. That would drive our parents mad.”

Silence shrouded the table.

“You assume that time passes on Amee at the same rate that it does on Earth,” Marian said.

Fear squeezed Elizabeth’s heart. “No! Don’t tell me we’ve already been here years!” Bile rushed up her throat, her stomach contracted.

“Marian!” Calli scolded. She was sitting next to Elizabeth and put an arm around her shoulders in a tight squeeze. “Yes, time passes the same.”

But Elizabeth was trembling. Bri shoved back her chair with enough force to knock it over, marched with unsteady steps to Elizabeth, stood beside her chair and flung her arms around her. She turned into Bri and grabbed her hard in return.

“That was nasty,” Bri said thickly. “Get out.”

“I didn’t mean—” Marian said.

“Marian, sometimes you’re just too clueless in that smart brain of yours,” Alexa said. Another chair thumped and Elizabeth felt stroking on her head from small hands, and a strong feeling of calm coming from both Calli and Alexa.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Marian said, a sob in her voice. Elizabeth sensed the woman hovering around Bri and her, as shaken as the rest.

“We women from Earth have one major rule around here,” Alexa’s voice was soft, but steely. “We don’t hurt each other. That means we don’t manipulate each other and we support each other. We stick together. There are enough problems here for us all without infighting.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Marian whispered.

“I know,” Calli said. “You were just saying that when a person finds themselves in a new dimension, old rules might not apply. The academic approach. That wasn’t what was needed.”

“I know,” Marian said.

“You owe them for scaring them,” Alexa said like a judge laying down the law. “Big time.”

Elizabeth was breathing easier, the aftereffects of a strong adrenaline rush fading so she could act normally.

I notice that we are all girls in this group hug. Elizabeth heard Bri’s light tone and knew her twin was settling down.

Jaquar and Bastien have gone to the windows. Marrec has his hand on the door knob, Marian’s telepathic tone sounded shaky. Her hand had closed over Elizabeth’s shoulder as if to steady them both.

Men, Alexa’s voice, the first time Elizabeth had heard it in her head. Had the other women been courteously holding back, or was it because they were all touching?

Because we are all physically connected, Bri said.

“This isn’t unexpected,” Alexa said. She stopped smoothing Elizabeth’s hair and Elizabeth missed it. She heard the sound of furniture moving. Lifting the chairs back, probably.

Alexa continued, “Live here long enough and you begin to believe in fate—in the Song. The Marshalls and Circlets and Chevaliers and the Cities all had requirements for the people they wanted to bring to Lladrana. Being able to mesh with the individual group and the culture was the primary one. Since we previous Exotiques have assimilated well with the culture, it’s only logical that we’d be friends.”

Elizabeth wanted to see. She drew away from Bri, straightening in her chair and Bri let her go. Both of them back on an emotional keel.

Alexa cleared her throat loudly, stared at the cooler once more. “Anything perishable in there?”

Bri met Elizabeth’s eyes. The fruit salad. You handle this. You’ve always been better at negotiations, at haggling in the local markets, than me.

“Fruit salad,” Elizabeth said. “Leftovers from our father’s birthday party. Melon, papaya, grapes, kiwi, pineapple…” She waved.

Bri strolled over to the cooler, opened it and took out a big plastic-wrapped bowl. She blinked rapidly. “Mom’s bowl,” she said, placing it on the table and removing the clingwrap.

“Wedgwood,” Marian murmured.

“A special celebration,” Elizabeth said.

“Well, the fruit won’t keep,” Bri said. She dished servings out to everyone.

Alexa sat, took a bite and hummed in pleasure. She scooped a portion of Bastien’s off his plate, swallowed and said, “You really shouldn’t eat this. You might develop a taste for it, then where would we be? Not sure any of this grows here.”

“Grapes do,” he said, and left them on Alexa’s plate as he took more back, and they all dug into the food.

As soon as she took her last bite, Alexa stared at the cooler again, licking her lips. “Two sacks of spuds, white and red. Pretty big cooler. What else is in it?”

Bri wiped her hands on a napkin and went back to the chest. She lifted the plastic-wrapped casserole out and set it aside.

“Oh, man. Oh, man,” Alexa breathed. “Is that what I think it is? Potato casserole?”

“With sour cream and onions and loads of cheese,” Bri returned sweetly.

Alexa’s moan was nearly orgasmic. Bastien’s eyes gleamed. “I know my woman and her tastes. Whatever that is, it is wonderful.”

“That can go pretty bad if not eaten quickly, too. Probably really excellent for breakfast,” Alexa pointed out.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. She lifted her brows. “There’s no refrigeration available?”

Marrec said, “There is a keep-cold twiddle-spell and we have ice.”

Jaquar said, “We can bespell the cooler free of charge.”

Bri said lightly, “Then we might invite you to eat the casserole with us at a later time. You have to talk to Elizabeth about that. It’s her cooler.” Then Bri lifted out the large dome-covered plate. She smiled, cocked an eyebrow at Elizabeth. “Chocolate cake with vanilla frosting.”

The words caused a lengthy silence. All the women’s gazes locked on the plate. The three once-Earth-now-Lladranan women nearly quivered.

“I know this choc-lat.” Marrec rolled the word on his tongue. “It is good.”

“Damn right,” Bri said. “Homemade birthday cake. Now we’ll talk about returning to Denver.”




7


Elizabeth waited for reactions. Marian sighed, shared a glance with the other women. Alexa dabbed at her lips with a napkin, folded it and stood. “We always go through this.” She cleared her throat, looked tentative. “I don’t want to step on toes, I only want to understand.” Her chin lifted. “I didn’t have much to go back to, so I settled here after the initial shock. Lladrana’s been good to me.”

Elizabeth felt her eyes widen. Bri’s mouth fell open. The woman had a long scar on her cheek. She’d said she fought monsters every week.

Bastien snorted, stood and stepped behind Alexa, wrapping his arms around her. His gaze was fierce. “She is beloved. She has a good estate, wealth which she did not have on Exotique Terre. She is,” he glanced at Marian and Calli, “you all are, the crème de la crème.”

“We’ve found our places in life.” Calli went to stand beside Alexa, took her hand. “I hadn’t planned on going back with the Snap, either, not after I bonded with Marrec, and certainly not after we adopted our child, children.” She smiled softly at her man. He lifted a shoulder and moved to hold her like Bastien held Alexa.

Alexa angled her chin at Marian. “That one was the one who kept saying she had to go back.”

“For Andrew, my brother with multiple sclerosis. And I did.”

“But you’re here,” Bri said.

“I brought him back with me. And he’s still here. After a fashion.”

Cold curled inside Elizabeth. She kept her voice mild. “After a fashion?”

Alexa grinned. “Since you’re both medicas you’ll be interested. His mind and, um, soul—” she glanced at Marian, who nodded “—were transferred to a Lladranan body.”

Wow! Bri’s thought echoed Elizabeth’s. Incredible. Bri said, “I’m not a medical doctor. Elizabeth is.”

Marian raised her eyebrows, obviously back to normal. “We saw you save last night.”

“She has a unique gift of healing hands,” Elizabeth murmured.

Blinking at Bri, Marian said, “So I would postulate that you studied alternative medicine. As I studied New Age subjects.” She crossed to the other side of Alexa, and still watching the twins, held out her hand. Alexa took it. Jaquar strolled behind her to stand with the other men, rested his hands on Marian’s hips.

“Choose an end,” Alexa challenged with a smile. “You’re supposed to be here.” Then her humor faded. “Bottom line, we need you. We’re sure the Dark is sending this disease somehow and we need you to find a cure.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “It isn’t that easy.”

“We know it isn’t,” Marrec said, his accent thick. “None of the Exotiques’ tasks were easy. But they prevailed.”

“We’re sorry for your problems, but we have loving parents who will miss us in two weeks,” Bri said, lowering the cake back into the cooler.

At that moment a long lilting strum came from the door. “Sevair Masif here,” said the deep voice of the city man.

Alexa hurried to answer, obviously glad of the interruption. “He’s been very patient, but he’s waiting for you two. The City and Towns were the ones who Summoned you.”

Marian and Jaquar did a little chant and the dishes and cutlery cleaned themselves and were stacked on the table. Elizabeth and Bri watched wide-eyed, then Bri hurried to put the casserole back into the chest and set the top back on it. She smiled. “Plenty of ice.”

“Bri, you can’t go out looking like that!” Jaquar sounded shocked.

All the women looked at him.

Marian said, “I would never have thought you to be a prude.”

He glanced at the other men as if for support. Bastien smiled blandly and replied in simple Lladranan that Elizabeth was beginning to understand, “She looks wonderful.”

Marrec leaned on the sofa and said in accented English, “I was in Co-lo-ra-do. In the summer. I saw bare legs.” He smiled reminiscently.

Calli blinked at him. “Oh, yes, I left you in the park when I went to the bank.”

Bri said, “Before I was in Denver, I was in Sweden, before that, Spain. But I’ve traveled a lot, I should have realized.” Now she smiled at the women, not nicely. “Can you do an instant clean on my clothes? The blouse is silk. Or do you have clothes for at least one of us?”

“Yes,” said Marian drawing herself up.

“Yes, what?” asked Bri.

Marian withdrew a finger-length stick from her pocket and with a flick of her wrist it turned into a wand. She pointed it at Elizabeth. A hot breeze hit her, rippled over her, shaking her clothes and leaving them with a fresh scent. Her panties had dried. But Elizabeth wasn’t too sure about the efficacy of magical clothes washing.

“Both,” Marian said. “I can cleanse your clothes, even while they’re on you, and we have clothes for you. Both of you.” She went into the bedroom and came back with two robes of dark red with white crosses on them. Medica tunics, one knee length, the other mid-calf. The shorter one buttoned tight around the wrist for several inches, so the sleeves didn’t get in the way of anything. The longer one had wider sleeves that came to the elbow.

Another heavy ripple of noise came from the door, obviously impatient. The knob turned and Sevair Masif strode in, followed by a hesitant person wearing the shorter medica robe.

“What is taking so long?” The tone more than his words held meaning. He stopped and stared at Bri. Blinked. Swallowed. A hint of red came to his cheeks. Bri sent him a grin, then slipped the tunic over her head and wiggled into it. The robe fell past her knees and she looked—marginally—like the other medica. Since the tight lower sleeves didn’t fit well over the thinner silk shirt, Bri rolled up the red sleeves and let the white show. It was a very Bri look: casual, rakish, elegant. Proclaiming to all that she leaned toward New Age. Elizabeth couldn’t imagine Bri in a proper nurse’s uniform. Meanwhile the medica was eyeing Bri’s style.

Elizabeth wasn’t about to add to the show. She looked at the remaining heavier robe with short sleeves. “Not one for each of us at all,” she said. “Two different robes.”

“One for each of you,” Marian said easily, “but in the two different styles that the medicas wear. This one is for traveling.”

Bri took the long tunic, and tossed it over Elizabeth’s head before she could protest, pulling it down over her Earth shirt and slacks, twitching it so it fell smoothly. The hem was long but the sides were cut high for easy movement.

Bri hummed in approval. “Looks good.”

Elizabeth had worn a cream-colored silk shirt and dark blue slacks to their father’s birthday party while Bri had worn stylish jeans and a turquoise shirt.

“It suits both of you,” Alexa said.

“Prie introd moi,” said Sevair.

“This is Sevair Masif, a City and Townmaster, a stonemason and excellent architect of Castleton,” Marian said.

He bowed. “Call me Sevair,” he said. Those were the last words Elizabeth understood of the long stream of sentences, except that the gist was splitting her and Bri up. One for the Castle medicas and one for the City? When she glanced at the medica, she had her hands folded at her waist and was nodding.

As soon as he finished, the medica launched into speech before Elizabeth could ask for a translation. The woman tapped her chest, gestured to the whole Castle, was impassioned. Elizabeth thought she spoke of facilities and training, or an exchange of training, while the man had spoken of need and duty.

The medica paused for a breath and Marian interrupted. “You’re not understanding much of this, are you?”

Bri said, “I lived in Cannes for two years and Elizabeth studied French and visited me.”

“But it’s not quite French, is it?” Marian said.

Everyone stared at them.

Bri looked at Sevair and the medica, inclined her head, and said. “Je ne comprehends pas.”

The medica sighed, looked at Marian.

“Just a drop of language potion,” Jaquar wheedled, drawing a tiny bottle from a pocket of his robe. It sparkled. “A drop would let you test it for a couple of hours.” He flashed a “Trust me, baby,” smile. “You’d be able to speak and understand Lladranan well.”

Elizabeth decided to let Bri handle this and kept her mouth shut.

Bri said, “How many medicas are there?”

“Five here at the Castle,” Alexa said, “the best in the country. The Marshalls can form a healing circle, too.” She shifted, appearing disgruntled. “Though none of us have been able to cure those with the sickness, like you did.”

“They are the Exotique Medicas,” Calli said. “They will have skills that the rest of us don’t. Like I can speak with the volarans, or you can handle that baton.”

Jaquar had strolled over to Bri, lifting a small cork from the bottle. Blinking, Bri could see that the pale lavender liquid inside sparkled a little, even in the tendrils that rose from the bottle. Really odd.

Jaquar waved it under her nose. It smelled wonderful, floral, like all the spring blossoms of a tree. She wanted another sniff, but since it was more like a craving, decided against it.

“Say something, Sevair,” Jaquar ordered—and it wasn’t in English, but sounded perfectly clear and not the mangled French Bri had had to concentrate to untangle.

“We,” Sevair gestured to the medica behind him, “have come to discuss matters. Since there are two Exotique medicas, it is only reasonable one stay here at the Castle and one come with me to Castleton.” Though he sounded as if he was reporting a compromise that didn’t please.

“Split us up!” Bri said, and realized she was speaking French—sort of.

The line between Sevair’s brows dug deeper as if he tried to understand what she said.

But Elizabeth was frowning, too. “What did you say, Bri?” she asked.

“They want to split us up. Send one of us away.”

“Yeah,” Alexa rolled her eyes. “All the way to Castleton. Two miles downhill.”

Bri felt her cheeks pinken. “Oh.”

“Two miles downhill from a Castle on a hill means walking two miles uphill for someone,” Elizabeth said.

“True,” said Bri.

Jaquar waved the vial near Bri’s nostrils again. Wonderful scent. She clenched her teeth, then said, “How much would give me language skills for the day?”

Marian’s gaze met Jaquar’s. She cleared her throat. “Language skills, ah. You might be interested to know that during sex there is a definite transfer of the language with your partner. That is to say, you’ll get Lladranan. They get English too, but there’s not much chance to practice it.”

Bri moved until she was shoulder to shoulder with Elizabeth. “We look like the easy types to you?”

Marrec shook his head. “No Exotique is easy. Not a one.”

“Pity,” said Bastien.

Jaquar said, “Two drops for today lasting perhaps until tomorrow noon.”

The medica stepped farther into the room and said something that escaped Bri. You understand that? she asked Elizabeth.

No. “Please translate,” Elizabeth said. She’d tensed up again.

The other Coloradan women shared a glance, grouped together and murmured a bit, then Marian looked at the twins and said, “She speaks in words and concepts that we are not sure of, even though we have done Song healing. Something about wanting to consult you about the rhythmic cycles of each energy point-pulse.” Marian didn’t look pleased that she didn’t get it.

Bri turned a little to Elizabeth. If I try, I can hear each chakra tune. Can you?

Elizabeth squinted, then a corner of her mouth lifted. Not really, but I can “see” different colors of swirling energy. I definitely see auras now, more than I ever did on Earth.

Chakra auras.

I suppose. Elizabeth held out her hand, and Bri clasped it. They looked at Marian. The sounds Bri heard merged with Elizabeth’s sight. Each chakra had a series of notes, a color, spun in a different pattern and to a different beat.

Now that you help, I CAN hear the notes. Probably what the medica was talking about, Elizabeth said.

For sure. And with our link I can see the chakras better than I ever could on Earth. The seven main ones and all the way to the thirteen. Bri felt Elizabeth scrutinizing the medica. We could learn from them, and teach them, too!

You got the parents’ teaching gene, Bri said. I think I’ll take a chance.

You always do, Elizabeth said.

Dropping Elizabeth’s hand, Bri went to Jaquar, who still held the small bottle. Now she wasn’t physically connected with Elizabeth, sounds were amplified and her aura sight dimmer. She reached and drew Power from the atmosphere, boosting her sight. Yep, easy to see auras. Jaquar had a shadow in several of his energy pulses, as if a lingering sickness was finally passing.

“What made you sick about a year ago?” she asked him.

He stilled, straightened to his full height. “I lost my parents. A Dark monster drained their Power and killed them.”

The room suddenly seethed with sorrow, anger, determination.

“He was sick with grief,” Marian said. “Almost mad with it.”

Jaquar grimaced.

“Those particular monsters, sangviles, especially like to kill people strong in Power,” Alexa said. “Like Circlets. Or Exotiques.”

Bri looked back to Elizabeth. They do need our help.

And they aren’t about to let us go before they get it.

“Two drops only,” Bri said, and stuck out her tongue.

Plink. Plink. Oddly enough, the taste wasn’t nearly as good as the smell. Bri wasn’t sure what she expected, a sweet honey like columbine perhaps, but she didn’t get it. She turned to the medica.

“Say that again.”

The medica nodded. “We believe this sickness was sent by the Dark in some way, but the symptoms are not the same for every patient. It affects the rhythm and Song of the different energy pulses of a person—chimes—but not the same chime.”

You get that? Bri asked Elizabeth. And they call a chakra a chime. Bri shrugged. Only natural in such a culture, I suppose.

But Elizabeth was staring at the medica, then Jaquar. Bri could feel her waves of curiosity. She stared at the vial. He offered it, and she sniffed, wrinkled her nose. Overly sweet, she said to Bri. But I know you liked the scent.

Elizabeth held up two fingers. “Two drops only.”

Jaquar nodded.

The tip of Elizabeth’s tongue peeked from between her lips. Jaquar carefully poured one drop, then a second.

I like the taste, Elizabeth said.

Speaking of taste, what do we do with the spuds? Bri went to the bags of potatoes and pulled out three of each, then said to Sevair, “Do you have botanists who’d study these? They’re a very good crop on Earth, called potatoes.”

She thought she heard Alexa moan.

“They are a delicacy,” Marian said to Sevair.

Sevair had pulled a folded bag from his pocket, snapped it, then opened it. The man was prepared. How depressing.

With a smile, Bri carried the potatoes heaped in her hands over to him and dumped them in the bag, then drew one back out. “You germinate them by the eye.” She pointed to one on the Idaho potato. “These are better baked, the others are better boiled.”

“That one is excellent fried. Deep fat fried,” Alexa said.

Now Marian whimpered.

Sevair lifted an eyebrow, took the potato from Bri, weighed it in his hand, glanced at Calli. “Your opinion?”

Calli smiled. “What you have there is about a thousand times more tasty than turnip fries.”

He looked surprised, then pleased. Nodding to Elizabeth, then Bri, he said, “Then you have something to barter with. However, I assure you that the Cities and Towns who Summoned you abide by tradition. You will receive property—an estate in the city or town of your choice—and enough money to support you for the rest of your days. Both of you.” He slipped the potato into the bag. “You will also receive a bounty on every plant that is developed from this po-ta-toe.”

He bowed to each of them. “I thank you both for accepting the language potion. It will make our tasks much easier. With your permission, I would like to adjourn to Temple Ward.”

Alexa was staring at the cooler and the potatoes.

“Where’s that guy who guarded them last night?” asked Bri.

“That would be my brother, Luthan,” Bastien said. “I don’t think we’ve spoken of Luthan.”

“Or Faucon for that matter,” Marian said.

Something else, here, Elizabeth said mentally to Bri as she walked over to stand in front of the chest, blocking it from everyone else.

Alexa’s wistful look turned into a pout. She speared Bri with a disgruntled gaze. “Luthan Vauxveau is a Chevalier, a knight who rides the flying horses, so flies into battle with us. He’s a wealthy nobleman with his own estate and the representative of the Singer, who is the prophetess of Lladrana, lives to the south in an Abbey, but meddles in our affairs.”

I don’t like that, said Elizabeth. We have enough to worry about with the people in this room.

I don’t either, Bri replied.

Alexa cleared her throat. “Some people have instinctive reactions to Exotiques. Either an instinctive revulsion or an instinctive attraction.”

“I’ll go for the attraction,” Bri said.

“That can be a problem, too,” Marian said.

Bri waved that away. “Better than the alternative. I’ve suffered from prejudice before. How nasty is this repulsion thing?”

“Bad enough to get you killed,” Bastien said. His usual optimistic expression had faded and turned grim, making him look like the warrior he was. “Alexa had to fight for her life.”




8


Isaw him, Luthan, shudder last night when he looked at us, Elizabeth said.

Now that you mention it…

“Luthan has the instinctive repulsion,” Alexa said, her voice cool, her manner lacking any playfulness. “He is deeply ashamed of it. He would die before he hurt any of us.”

Must be difficult to have a brother-in-law who thinks you’re repulsive, Bri sent to Elizabeth.

“Ayes,” said Alexa, reading body language or energy or Bri’s mind. “Ayes is ‘yes.’ ‘Ttho’ is ‘no.’ And Luthan has long since gotten over his first problem with me, as well as Marian and Calli. It’s only when he has to meet and interact with a new Exotique that the problem surfaces again.”

“But you must be aware that others might have this reaction,” Marrec said. “If they have never met an Exotique before, they may not know they have this flaw and may act on it instead of thinking how important you are to us.”

“We understand,” Elizabeth said. Bri could feel her need to leave the suite and get out into fresh air, someplace not as crowded with others. Bri felt it too.

“Okay, so there’s a repulsion and Luthan has it and hates it. I still sensed he was the most honest of all of you.” She enjoyed saying that. “Will he watch our goodies for us?”

Marian sniffed, took out her finger length wand again. “I can bespell the chest to keep the food cold. And Jaquar is very good with lock spells. He can put one on the door and all the windows.”

“What about Faucon?” Elizabeth asked. “Since Luthan has the revulsion, I would imagine that he has the attraction?”

“Ayes,” Alexa said cheerfully. “He’s sexy, rich, noble, a good Chevalier and a good guy. He’ll want to Pair with you.” She shook her head. “Twins. He’ll go mad at the choice. I’d advise you to take him up on any offers.”

“We aren’t staying,” they said together. Bri continued, “Our parents—” The thought of their parents grief at the disappearance of their daughters clutched at her gut.

“It’s difficult,” Marian said. “I couldn’t leave my brother Andrew.” Then her voice softened, held a wrenching undertone. “He came with me, but was badly wounded, and dying. We transferred his mind and soul into a dying Lladranan, Koz. Now Andrew is Koz.”

That still sounded weird.

“There’s a cure for MS here?” Bri asked.

Marian grimaced. “We didn’t know. We hoped. But my place was here, with Jaquar and the Circlets.” She took her husband’s hand. “With my mentor, Bossgond, and the school we wanted to found, did found.”

“I don’t believe it.” Elizabeth shook her head.

A smile lingered on Marian’s lips. “Come meet him, then.” She nodded to the medica who was waiting patiently by the door. “Jolie was the main medica to make the transfer, if you’d like to talk with her.”

Jolie said, “You did it yourself, Circlet Marian. That procedure is a matter of the soul and the Song. We medicas only kept the receiving body alive.”

All Bri’s nerves shivered at the thought.

“It was a matter of faith in herself,” Jaquar said, kissing his wife’s cheek. “She knew her Power was strong, and fashioned to be more of use here than on Exotique Terre.”

A definite prod at them, Bri thought. She said, “I have always used my healing hands.”

Jaquar switched his gaze to Elizabeth. “And you? You both have great Power here, otherwise the Song would not have reverberated in your mind—the gong, the chimes.”

Bri jerked in surprise. “How did you know that?”

“It is the way Exotiques are Summoned.” He nodded to the books on the table. “You can learn much from the others’ experiences.”

“Later.” Alexa walked to the door, sent the twins a challenging look. “Can’t hide in here all day.” She snorted with laughter as if at a secret joke. “Come along. Your new life awaits. If you dare.”

Bri spared one last glance around the room, then watched carefully in the hallway when Jaquar bespelled the door.

As they walked down the stairs the medica, Jolie, began asking Elizabeth questions. Soon they were deep in a conversation about medical techniques. Bri blinked. She didn’t want to face another new day in another new place. She was supposed to be in Denver.

When the outer door opened onto the wide courtyard of the Castle, they all hesitated.

“One of the twins should come with me to Castleton. We have a house prepared,” Sevair said. “The Exotique Summoned was for Castleton and the other cities and towns.”

“Sounds like traveling,” Elizabeth’s voice was strained. She met Bri’s eyes. A bad feeling slicked Bri’s gut.

I don’t want to leave the Castle. Elizabeth was even more hesitant.

Bri couldn’t resist the plea. She pasted on a smile and jutted a hip. Looks like it’s me, then. Think this telepathy thing works across two miles?

Elizabeth’s eyes sharpened. An interesting experiment.

Yeah. Bri straightened her shoulders. “I’ll go.” She sent a glance around the cluster of people. “For a while. We aren’t chessmen to be pushed around.”

“Of course not,” Bastien said. “No Exotique can be pushed far.” His smile was crooked, his gaze admiring.

Alexa said, smiling, “We get to Castleton often, usually to the Nom de Nom.”

“A worthy establishment,” Sevair said, but something about the way he said it made Bri think he didn’t really mean it.

Bastien laughed. “A Chevaliers hang-out.”

Of course he hadn’t really said hang-out. Had he? Bri could hardly distinguish the English words from the Lladranan, especially since she realized that the Exotiques had already had a definite effect on the language. “Okay” was commonplace. Maybe Bastien had said hang-out.

“Lodging, food, and clothing is a priority. We will shelter and care for our Exotiques.” Sevair’s broad hand with scarred fingers gestured to Elizabeth and Bri.

“Merci,” said Elizabeth. “It’s comforting to know we have a place here at the Castle and in Castleton.”

“Not only there,” Marian said. “If you prefer Circlet Towers you can live with me or Bossgond.”

“Marrec and I have a big house at your disposal, too,” Calli said.

“Exotiques are valued,” Sevair said, “but I think you will find that no one values their Exotiques more than the Cities and Towns.”

At that moment a couple of women strode up to the group. The older one was the Marshalls’ leader, the other wore expensive leathers. Bri vaguely remembered them from the night before.

The Marshall bowed brusquely to them; she wore Authority like a surgeon’s coat.

“I’m Thealia Germain, Lady Knight Swordmarshall.”

Okay, make that the Authority of the head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Thealia jerked a nod at the woman beside her. “Lady Hallard, representative of the Chevaliers.”

Bri thought it sounded like the two top warriors in the world. She stepped back. She’d avoided war zones on her travels. Poverty and disease of third-world nations was bad enough without being caught in a struggle between vicious groups.

Elizabeth nodded at them. “Ladies.”

Well, Elizabeth had served her time in emergency services and ICUs; she’d have seen plenty of wounds inflicted on people by others.

“Exotique Medicas,” Hallard said.

Thealia continued, “It’s time for the morning briefing about last night’s battle. My husband and Shieldmarshall noticed a different pattern in the fighting, as did other Shields. We also received a message from the horrors, or perhaps I should say from the new Master of the Horrors and Servant of the Dark.”

Just the titles had Bri backing up a little more, into the solid shape of Sevair. He steaded her with a hand on her shoulder, then said in voice full of suppressed fury, “You mean my ex-assistant.”

Thealia spared him an impatient “get over it” look. “All three of our groups were betrayed last year.” She indicated Hallard with a stern jerk of her head.

“Yes, of course.” Now Sevair’s voice was quiet, even soothing. “My anger and grief are not solely my own.”

“The briefing,” Thealia snapped.

“What was the message?” Marian asked. “This isn’t a good sign.”

“I prefer to speak of that in private.”

“Hey, Jean,” Bastien called to a soldier in the Castle colors, lingering on the edge of their group. “What was the Master’s message?”

“‘Our Dark plague will take you all.’”

On the receiving end of scathing stares from the Lady Knight Swordmarshall and Lady Hallard, the soldier shrank back into the dark shadows shrouding the cloister corridor in the gray morning.

“So now we know for sure,” Sevair said quietly, though he’d left his hand on Bri’s shoulder and she felt the tension run through all his muscles.

Scowling, Thealia said, “Unfortunately.”

“The Circlets must hear this news immediately,” Marian said.

“Broadcast a message by crystal sphere,” Thealia said impatiently. “I want you Circlets at my briefing.”

“Of course,” Jaquar said, slipping his arm around Marian. “We’ll join you shortly.” They moved away.

“Right,” Alexa said, holding her hand to Bastien. He made a face but took it and matched her magically rapid pace back to the keep, outdistancing the taller Marian and Jaquar.

“And you, also, Citymaster, and the Exotique Medicas.”

“Thank you, but that is not possible,” Sevair said.

A few seconds of startled silence passed. The Lady Knight Swordmarshall was obviously not used to people denying her.

“Castleton has prepared a welcome and thanks for their Exotique Medica. The morale of my city is very important. We have been much harder hit by this sickness than you here at the Castle. My people come first.” His hand grew warmer with sheer energy on Bri’s shoulder, heating it, reminding her that she was standing in damp, chilly air.

“Of course,” Thealia said in repressive tones.

The Castle medica, Jolie, stepped forward. “It’s my opinion that the Castle Exotique Medica should see our facilities and learn the basics of our methods, while we speak to her of the Power she used last night. The sooner we understand each other, the better.” She swallowed.

So Elizabeth was the Castle Exotique Medica, huh? That made Bri the—

Sevair’s fingers squeezed Bri’s shoulder gently, released, leaving a quickly cooling spot. “Both Medicas were Summoned on behalf of the Cities and Towns. I reluctantly agreed that one of the ladies stay here for training. But they are both for the Cities and Towns.”

“The medicas can reimburse you for the Marshalls fee to Summon—”

“This is not about zhiv,” Sevair said. “This is about need and priorities.”

“I understand.” The medica bowed her head.

“I do, too,” said Elizabeth. She smiled. “I’m used to training at one place and working in other departments, and Bri has traveled, using her gift, extensively.”

Yep, Elizabeth definitely wanted to stay at the Castle. Still, Bri continued to drag her feet. She didn’t want to leave. Even the Castle was better than someplace new. After years of traveling, of being flexible, of modifying her behavior to be accepted into a new society—even if it was an alternative medical structure that she fit into better—she wanted just to be herself in one place with her family.

Sevair’s large hand squeezed her shoulder again, then he stepped back and made another very courteous bow. “We of the city and towns are honored to have you here, Exotique Drystan.”

She looked at his serious brown eyes, let out a sighing breath. At least there was an upside—she wouldn’t have to work to connect with the medical community here, wouldn’t have to prove herself. That had already happened. Last night.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Thank you.” She sucked in a breath and addressed Jolie. “This is where your…warriors…the Marshalls and Chevaliers return, right? Elizabeth is better with wounds.”

Elizabeth frowned. “That’s right.” She inhaled deeply, too. “Any wounded from last night’s battle?”

The medica studied her. “Two. We would appreciate your opinion. It’s an excellent way to start.” She sounded cheerful.

Elizabeth jumped into conversation with the medica, and was walking to the big round temple where several others waited in their red robes with a white cross.

Bri felt abandoned.

“The morning wears on,” Thealia said, turning to Calli.

“Marrec and I are out of this.” She raised both hands palms outward. “Until the last battle.”

Thealia snorted, pivoted on her heel and left. Her bootsteps echoed through the courtyard as she went to the keep.

“They meet in the Marshalls’ Council Chamber,” Calli said.

“I’d imagine so,” Bri said.

But Calli had tilted her blond head and was studying her. “You know, the destruction spell does demand six, and there are two of you. Maybe we will only need one more to win the final battle.”

“We aren’t staying,” Bri said. She was sure the phrase would be repeated like a mantra in the coming days.

Clop, clip, clip, clip, clop. A large brown volaran danced up to them, neighed, dipped its head. A series of pictures came to Bri, of herself and Sevair mounted on the winged horse and flying down toward a spired town. With the images came a feeling of anticipation and pleasure. The pegasus was talking to her!

She smiled uneasily at the volaran, but stroked her neck. Looking at Sevair, she said, “Did you get that?”

The clouds had returned but she saw a faint tinge of redness on his cheeks. Of course it could have been the coolness of the air.

“Did I hear the volaran? Not very well.”

She thought he didn’t like admitting what he might consider deficiencies.

But Calli was there, smiling, her blue eyes twinkling. “Mud says she’d like to fly you both down to Castleton. I don’t fly with her often and she likes Exotiques. They smell so good.”

“Mud?” Bri couldn’t think of an uglier name for such a beautiful creature.

Calli’s smile widened. “Her name is really, ‘Rich-Earth-Warm-And-Soft-From-A-Summer-Shower-To-Play-In.”

“Mud.” Bri smiled.

“It’s not far to Castleton,” Sevair said. “It would be a very short ride.”

Mud batted her eyelashes at him, whickered.

“Don’t you fly?” Calli asked.

“Ayes, but I don’t keep a volaran.”

“Mud can be yours. I’ll call others for you,” Calli said.

Another bow from Sevair to Calli, this one a stiff inclination of the torso. “I thought you and your bondmate were settled on your estate.”

“We are,” Calli said, “but since Bri and Elizabeth have arrived, Marrec and I have decided to come with our children to the Castle—and Castleton—at least once a week.

“Children!”

“We adopted. Continue to adopt.” Calli’s smile remained in place, but hurt shadowed her eyes.

Bri couldn’t help it—she heard a tiny tinkle of chimes in the back of her mind and Calli’s Song became emphasized, not the Song of the Exotique Calli, the total person, but just the physical. The murmur of her second chakra was low, or rather, one note of that melody was missing. Calli’s ovaries were gone. She couldn’t have children.

“You know, don’t you?” Calli said quietly. “You can see my physical health?”

“No,” Bri said absently. “I hear it.” She met Calli’s gaze. “You are in excellent health.”

“Exceptional,” Calli said.

“Yes.”

Sevair shifted beside her, and Calli’s attention went back to him, even as Bri absorbed the shock of being able to hear what might be wrong with a person. Mud pawed the ground.

Calli said, “Surely as a Citymaster, you travel.”

Nodding, Sevair said, “I have a coach.”

Calli looked at the streak in his hair. “You have the Power to call wild volarans. I sense you’re an excellent partner.”

His expression froze into an impassive mask. “My sister loved volarans. She had planned to call one.” He lifted a strong shoulder, dropped it. “Or several. Perhaps become a Chevalier. That didn’t happen.”

Since he used the past tense, Bri knew what had happened.

“Ah,” Calli said. “But it would be easier for you to perform your duties if you flew with a volaran. Using their distance magic, your trips would be much shorter. I’m surprised no one has considered this before.”

With a lift of one brow, Sevair said, “Are you? The Marshalls have avoided telling the Citymasters much, the Circlets—”

Calli waved that away. “I understand. Lladranan society has been segmented.” She lifted her chin. “But we Exotiques are mending the situation. Mud will love to partner with you.”

“I don’t have room near my house to stable volarans.” Sevair’s voice was even.

“Contrary,” Bri said.

He frowned, then said, “We’ll fly to Castleton. Mud, would you like to be my regular mount? Stay in Castleton?”

Mud pranced in place.

Calli slid her gaze to Bri, “Along with the estate and the salary, volarans are an Exotique perk.”

Bri didn’t answer. She looked at Elizabeth, who was watching their little scene, hearing the shadows of their conversation through their twin link. Bri would be the first of them to fly on a winged horse! Elizabeth might stay in the safety of the Castle, but Bri would fly! She couldn’t prevent a grin, and heard an audible mind-sniff from Elizabeth.




9


With a last stroke of Mud’s softly feathered mane, Bri said, “I’ll get my backpack.”

Calli nodded and Bri was off before Sevair could say anything. She walked fast. Her feet weren’t itching, but her hands were, wanting to pet that volaran more. Riding a flying horse! That would be worth this trip. She shut down the thought of her parents. They were in Hawaii right now and enjoying themselves, basking in the sun.

Then she was at the door and up, into the suite that was the most luxurious quarters she’d stayed in since she’d left home for college. She grabbed her pack, stuffed her clothes into it, eyed her stack of books and dumped them in, too, then hesitated. She fumbled for the digital camera, checked the memory. She had plenty, had just put in new for her Dad’s birthday party.

When she reached the courtyard again, she saw that the clouds had parted and the sun shone bright, gleaming on Mud’s rich hide, lighting hints of red in Sevair Masif’s hair, turning Calli’s coloring of blond hair, blue eyes, pinkened cheeks into a perfect picture. So she snapped it, and tucked the little camera back into the pack, began to hook up the charging cord up to the solar panel, then had second thoughts. Who knew what spectrum of light this sun had? How the solar power collected would affect Earth devices? She replaced the memory bit with a new one, took the shot again, backed up and took a few pics of the Castle—the keep and Temple. Then she connected the camera to the battery pack, not the solar panel, and headed out.

Calli stared at the backpack and touched a silver grid. “What is this?”

“Solar power, for all my electronics except laptop. Which I didn’t bring with me anyway.” A little pang of regret, though it would have been useless here.

“I can’t believe this,” Calli said.

Bri thumbed on the music player, put an earbud next to Calli’s ear.

“Wow,” Calli said.

“What is that?” Sevair’s brows were down again.

Somehow Bri didn’t think he’d appreciate her music. Music for itchy feet. Loud and raucous. She sent him a cheeky smile. “Just toys.” She put the music player away. “Reminds me.” She pulled her cell from the pouch, looked at the power indicator which showed it was juiced though the connectivity showed nothing. She hit redial for Elizabeth’s apartment. Futile.

She gulped, turned the phone off, stuck it back in its pocket, made sure everything was protected. Shrugging, she said, “That was a communication device. Nothing.”

“Hmm,” he said.

“You had to try,” Calli said softly.

“Yes.”

Let’s fly! said Mud.

“Yes. Castleton awaits.” Sevair looked at the sundial affixed to a wall. “We’re not too late.”

Which told Bri that he’d arrived at their suite very early, probably calculating that it would take quite a while to get them moving. Clever man.

“And arriving by volaran will be impressive,” Calli said.

His smile returned. “Indeed.”

The volaran had been equipped with a long modified western saddle that would carry two. Sevair swung onto the flying horse with ease. Bri handed her bag to Calli then mounted, too. The light robe scrunched high above her knees.

“Your sister is wearing the right tabard for flying,” Sevair said. He took the pack from Calli and examined it. “Odd cloth.”

“Yes.”

“Something from the Exotique Terre machines. Good craftsmanship. Excellent design.”

“It’s, um, magical.” She tapped the panels. “These will capture the sun’s power and give it to my toys.”

“Amazing.”

He strapped her bag onto Mud. The volaran craned her neck to sniff at it. Sounds and a couple of images flickered to Bri, but she didn’t catch the details.

Calli chuckled. “Mud says your bag smells of many interesting scents.”

“I’m glad she likes it.”

Calli’s hand grabbed Bri’s. “We’re only two miles away.”

Bri stared down at Calli. “I’ve been in places where two miles away is like another dimension. I reckon this is one of them.”

Flushing, Calli nodded. “Ayes.” She held out a small sphere. “A crystal ball for you.” Her mouth twisted. “Think of it as a cell phone programmed to call any Exotique. We all have one.”

“Thanks.” Bri took the inch-sized sphere. It was warm in her hands. Naturally, or from Calli’s body heat? Bri started to pocket it, realized she wasn’t wearing her jeans.

“Here.” Sevair’s large, calloused hand slid across her thigh and sent tingles through her. Now that she thought of it, he smelled good too. But he was holding fabric of her tunic apart and she saw a large pocket.

“Merci,” she said.

He clicked his tongue and the volaran trotted to the center of the courtyard. Sevair braced.

Large wings opened, lifted, and they were off the ground and up, up, up!

They were flying! The sheer exhilaration of it, of zooming through the air was like a fabulous, fantastic dream.

As soon as the initial glee wore off, Bri was inundated with Song. Loud, somehow horsey-beats—clip, clip, clop—and brass came from Mud, along with an occasional flat note reminding Bri of a squelching footstep in wet earth.

Then there was the Song of the man behind her. Now that the only natural sound was air rushing by her, she heard it, thought she heard his steady heartbeat—a little rapid as her own must be—but strong and even. To her surprise she didn’t just get a few notes from him, but a long, streaming melody, and she liked the tune. Definitely intriguing. Strong, stable but with an unexpected intricate twine of notes repeating at well spaced intervals, changing minutely each time. As life changed the man?

Personal Songs must change as an individual did. If so, her pattern must be shot to hell, and Elizabeth’s, too. She chuckled deep in her throat; the arms around her tightened and glancing back she thought she saw another smile.

Mud was flying slowly. Stretching out her moments of glory? The road from the Castle and its walls to the city of Castleton, also encircled by stout walls, was steep downward, and Mud had hardly dropped. Instead she circled over the city.

“A tour by air,” Sevair said. His whisper puffed warm air by Bri’s right ear. “Fabulous.”

Pride rang in his Song, too, a gleaming silver note. Dedication, a repeating theme of a cadence that reminded Bri of deep stone-like tones, like bedrock singing. What a fancy! But where better to explore fancies than atop a flying horse?

“Lower, please,” Sevair said loudly.

Bri saw rooftops of red tile and gray and blue slate. Some buildings were three stories, a few four, and only one was five.

Masif pointed to it. “The Guildhall.” Again that silver bell chime from his Song.

As they circled down, Bri saw the part nearest the Castle, probably the oldest part, was jumbled on each side of a very thick gatehouse that sent out equally thick walk-ways and occasional towers along the walls. Toward the center, the city became more orderly, with houses surrounding parklike squares or circles. Commercial districts surrounded stone courtyards and pumps or fountains. A small stream threaded through the city, and the walls appeared newer and even stronger around the lower third of the city. She thought she could see where an old wall might have been.

Mud heaved a sigh Bri both heard telepathically and felt beneath her. She got the picture. Time to descend. Even the duty-bound Sevair behind her seemed reluctant; she wondered if he ever allowed himself to play.

Images came to her mind, another volaran, two, near Sevair—the winged horse’s projections.

Sevair replied with an image of roomy stalls with a feed trough full of hay and grain.

Bri realized negotiations were taking place and was amused and interested.

Mud showed Sevair dressed in Chevalier leathers with a raised sword. Flying down to a battlefield. Yellow and black and gray things Bri couldn’t quite discern but which made shivers crawl up her spine were fighting with humans and volarans.

“Ttho!” His negative rang in her mind, must have carried to others. He showed himself dressed in rich pants and shirt, with tabard, flying to other towns and cities.

Whickering in satisfaction, Mud dropped down to the courtyard, and she sent one last vision—of her throat opening and Song flowing from it to other volarans. Bri knew the image and the Song—Mud would tell others that Sevair wanted her kind, would care for them well, would not be fighting. He’d be flying for transportation to other fascinating places. The volaran added a picture of Bri at the end.

Bri laughed.

They landed in what appeared to be the town square, though it was a long, cobbled rectangle. People stood on all sides, looking at her.

Sevair dismounted and bowed.

She was reluctant to get off the winged steed, and Sevair reached up, put his big hands around her waist and lifted her down with ease. Her eyes met his and she saw he was very serious again. As always.

His fingers slid down to hers, then he lifted her hand with his in a gesture of triumph. “This is Bri Drystan who saved widow Marchand’s boy last night and healed all who were sick of the Dark disease. Our Exotique Medica!”

Cheers rose from the square. Bri was surrounded by happy faces. Tears stung. She’d known gratitude before, but it usually came from an individual, not a crowd. Awesome.

Bri’s minutes of basking in glory lasted only until she noticed Sevair conversing with other well-dressed people and watching her from the corner of his eye. She knew that look. She had purple streaks in her hair, an alternative-lifestyle fashion statement that she now regretted since it meant that she might be watched all the time.

No one came up to talk to her. When she stepped close to someone, they sidled back. So they respected Exotiques, were glad she and Elizabeth, and the others, were here, but the Exotiques were also obvious aliens in a culture with few differences.

“Let’s discuss matters inside.” Sevair stepped aside, offered his arm to Bri and took Mud’s reins, then led them both to the guildhall. The crowd parted. He planted Bri on the porch with a look that meant “stay,” and Mud went happily into a walled and grassy garden. The people in the square dispersed, except the kids who were intently eyeing the garden door.

Then Sevair was back with introductions to the other Citymasters, half of whom were women. Bri made note of them, and figured it wouldn’t be as hard remembering what guild they were master of as much as their names. The goldsmith wore an intricate gold ring, the weaver a fine rainbow-colored shawl.

But when they got into the guildhall conference room it became jaw-cracking dull. They talked about the statement that the Dark sent the plague. They spoke of funding a Chevalier team to fight against the Dark, or studies by Circlets. Bri spent the first few minutes looking at the people, then the room—rich wood panels that held a symbol of the craft guilds with ornately carved trim in the shape of fruits and flowers. There were windows, some of them stained-glass as if they were a glazier’s ongoing project, high in the wall offering light but no view.

The scent spoke of polish and understated wealth. Of tradition.

They’d seated her at the end of the room in a fancy chair that was so new-looking that it was evident it was a symbol. The back panel had a woman with raised arms and tilted-back head and open mouth, singing. Not too difficult to deduce that the chair was reserved for the Singer, and Bri wondered if she’d ever used it.

She had only shifted in the chair twice—okay, three times—before Sevair caught her eye. A ripple of a melody came from him. He was as impatient as she with this talk, but he showed no restlessness, continued to make his points as steadily as he’d probably made them several times before. Some would consider that a virtue.

She was just about ready to stand and make a circuit of the room, scrutinize the woodwork, when the door burst open and a woman staggered in holding a sick child.

Adrenaline poured through Bri. Her hands tingled.




10


By midmorning, Elizabeth’s mind was spinning…no, that was a trite and wrong image. Her mind was so saturated with new ideas and experiences it was like a sodden sponge. Her brain might have sunk to the bottom of her skull unable to hold one more new thing.

She’d been shown the healing rooms, and had watched when the medicas followed up on the injuries from the battle the night before. The claw-slices and puncture wounds on heavily scarred bodies had horrified her, empirical evidence that these people fought somethings that tried their best to kill them. She was told again that the Marshalls formed a healing circle after the battle and handled most of the injuries. She garnered that though the “incursion” had been large, only two people had died. Alexa and Bastien had saved the day.

Her whole body tensed at the images forming in her mind, but she asked no questions. Then a Chevalier woman limped in with strained muscles and a broken arm from a too tough practice and Elizabeth helped heal her. That was—strange. Nothing like linking with Bri, but Elizabeth couldn’t pinpoint why.

The female knight and her partner in the skirmish had been charged a large sum for the healing for being careless in a time of war, when the medicas needed to be fresh for any battle aftermath the Marshalls couldn’t handle. Individuals and pairs were patrolling and fighting in the north and might appear at any moment.

Then they’d all trooped to the inside training hall in the lower courtyard of the Castle to reiterate the policy to the rest of the fighters.

Alexa Fitzwalter rescued her, shooing off the medicas surrounding Elizabeth with flapping motions as if they were a flock of birds. “Give the woman a break!”

Elizabeth shook her head. Had Alexa actually said that? She reran the words in her mind. No. Something equally colloquial, but not those exact words.

Jerking her head toward the security gate between the lower courtyard and Temple ward, Alexa said, “Let’s get rid of the extra bed and wardrobe in your room. You don’t object to living in my tower, do you?” She started off across the grassy middle of the yard.

Elizabeth kept pace. “Would my objection be listened to?”

Alexa smiled. “Sure. You get to choose where to stay.”

“I’d rather go.”

Face losing expression, Alexa said, “Got that.”

“This is not our fight. Our parents—”

“I’m sorry,” Alexa said brusquely in English. “We understand, and we cut Marian some slack, but since then the war against the Dark has heated up. It wants something here in Lladrana and won’t hesitate to make this country a wasteland to get it.”

“Could you give—” Elizabeth started, but Alexa was shaking her head.

“I think anything a big evil entity wanted badly enough to create monsters and kill whatever got in its way is not something we should give that entity. Like Hitler and the atomic bomb. What we have here in Lladrana starts with genocide, since it’s only Lladrana being invaded now. But I reckon it will move to the eradication of the human species.” Her smile was grim. “I’d rather not be an individual in an endangered species. Not to mention that we can all hear the planet, Amee, weep. This planet is much weaker than Earth, in energy—Song.”

Elizabeth remained silent and nodded to the guards who held open the heavy gate door. She stepped over the threshold curb. “I’ve never been a proponent in the sacrifice of the individual for the greater good. Especially when the individuals don’t want to be sacrificed. I would have thought as an attorney that you would have agreed. You don’t seem to be the type to defend major corporations, but individuals.”

“I took any case I could get,” Alexa said, heading toward the keep. Sadness passed over her face. “I had a partner, as close as a sister, who died just before I came.” She sighed. “I was grieving. We’d just set up business and were scrambling for work.” They entered the keep and strode down corridors.

“That reminds me,” Elizabeth said. “Our godfather is a judge in Denver.”

Alexa’s expression changed to wariness as she stopped outside the door to the twins’ suite. “Let me guess, the honorable Trenton Philbert the Third.” She fingered her baton sheath.

“You know him.”

“Yeah. Open the door.”

Elizabeth set her hand on the knob, heard and felt a little “pop.” They went down the narrow security passage to the dining room entrance. She pushed open the door. Things looked slightly disarrayed. Of course, someone had come to get Bri’s gear.

Alexa went to the table and put her hand on the stack of three books. “All of us know the judge.”

“What!”

Alexa’s smile was ironic. “Denver isn’t as large as some of the eastern cities, but it ain’t a small cow-town anymore.”

Elizabeth blinked. “Calli was a rancher.”

“Ayes, and ‘Bert’ had a spread right next to hers.” Alexa’s forehead creased. “The Philberts had lived next to Calli’s family for a couple of generations.”

“Coincidence?” Elizabeth said, then shook her head just as the smaller woman was doing.

“I don’t think so,” Alexa said. Again she shrugged. “We’ll see if the last Exotique knows him, too. A singer,” she murmured. “Probably gotta be a singer. He big into the arts?”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” Alexa repeated.

“Though his new wife is…unusual. Very involved in New Age studies.”

Alexa stared at her thoughtfully, “The owner of the metaphysical store in Denver, Queen of Cups.”

“Yes, how did you know?”

Tapping the books with her finger, Alexa said, “Marian met her.” Alexa’s mouth opened, then her lips pressed together as if guarding secrets. “Read them. There may be other connections among us. We need to know.”

“I will.” Elizabeth scooped up her healthy back bag, slung it over her shoulder. She didn’t want to think about connections. She went into the bedroom and stopped in her tracks as she saw a long-haired white Persian cat batting one of the foil paper chocolate wrappers around and pouncing on it.

“How did he get in here?” Elizabeth said.

The cat sat down and draped her tail around her paws. I AM a she.

Elizabeth plunked onto the bed. A talking cat. She was going mad. Flying horses, talking cats. She rubbed her eyes.

“This is my companion. She is a magical shape-shifting being, come to help us defeat the Dark.”

“Of course she is,” Elizabeth said tiredly, but jolted at the sight of the miniature greyhound cradled in Alexa’s arms. Futilely she scanned the room for the cat.

I am a dog now.

“So I see.” Her shoulders slumped.

The greyhound held out a dainty paw.

Sighing, Elizabeth went over to take it, and Power zinged through her body, removing weariness. She stepped back and released the small pads and claws. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Of course you should be,” Alexa said. “You’re in a different dimension. I can speak from experience that information and surprises come flying at you—sometimes literally—the first few days.” Her lopsided smile charmed. She continued, “I’m down to a surprise every couple of weeks. Marian’s still getting surprised every other day or so, but she’s a scholar and a Circlet and investigates stuff.” She bent down and picked up the wrapper and her scowl was back, along with an accusatory stare. “Chocolate. You have more than the chocolate cake. You have candy.” She held the scrap up to her nose and sniffed, whimpered. “You had chocolate last night.”

Elizabeth had. After she’d put Bri to bed, she’d eaten one, or rather had let it melt in her mouth and slide down her throat, savoring every instant. She clamped her bag close to her side. “Yes, I had one. After we healed—” she still wasn’t comfortable with the word “—fifteen people.”

Alexa blew out a breath. “Guess I can’t blame you.” She widened her eyes and tried to look pitiful. It didn’t work. She was one of the strongest, most competent people Elizabeth had ever met, including her mother and the staff at Denver Major.

When Elizabeth didn’t respond to the ploy, Alexa once again donned the manner of extreme efficiency. Looking down at the dog in her arms, she said, “Is there anything else in the extra wardrobe Elizabeth needs?”

Faucon’s shirts, the dog said slyly. Elizabeth heard her. She ignored the comment and stared at the greyhound. It had an aura. She was getting used to seeing light flare around people, green most especially for the medicas. This aura was different, radiating a glittering rainbow with golden patches that glowed every few seconds.

The greyhound launched herself from Alexa to Elizabeth and Elizabeth caught her. She was light, as if she was more spirit than flesh. Her fur was soft. The dog looked at her with deep brown eyes that drew her in, made her dizzy, had her sinking into her balance.

You and your twin are needed here. It will take both of you to find the answers.

Elizabeth blinked, but still heard the voice in her mind, thought she saw the dog’s muzzle opening and closing as if she uttered words. Stay. I am Sinafinal, a fey-coo-cu. Call on me if you have need, but guard my name from others. Only the Exotiques and their mates know our names.

“Our?” Elizabeth managed.

There was a short bark and another greyhound sat on the bed, tongue lolling and wagging its tail.

My mate, said Sinafinal.

It was male. Slightly larger, it was a dappled brown instead of grey like Sinafinal. It held out a paw.

Cautious, but fascinated, Elizabeth took the paw. Another surge of energy through her, but something about this one felt almost familiar.

I am Tuckerinal. I was once a hamster. I came with Marian from Earth and am her companion.

“Um, salutations.” Again she eased back from the magical being. Fey-coo-cu, magical shape-shifting being. Former hamster. Right.

Hello to you. Too messy here. Bed and wardrobe must go.

“I’ll take care of it,” Alexa said, waved toward the bathroom and dining room beyond.

The dog sniffed at Elizabeth’s bag. Do you have nuts?

“No.”

Yes, you do! Nuts, nuts, nuts! He pawed at the bag, managed to tip her cell phone out.

“No!” Alexa lunged for the bed, but it was tall and wide. She hopped on, but not before Tuckerinal’s quick paws snicked the case of Elizabeth’s cell open and his tongue came out to scoop up the battery and memory chips.

“No!” Elizabeth dropped Sinafinal, but it was too late. She was dazed by what she’d just witnessed, a dog eating electronics.

Tuckerinal burped and grinned at her. More nuts?

“No, Bri has the most toys.” She snapped her mouth shut.

Br-iii. It was an anticipatory lilt in her mind from him. He swiped a long pink tongue over his muzzle. Toys. Nuts.

“Uh-oh,” Alexa said.

“No!” Elizabeth scrabbled at the remnants of the phone, knowing it was useless, but trying to put it together all the same. Tears spurted from her eyes and anger and humiliation washed through her.

She is doing that turning red thing, Sinafinal said.

“Out! All of you! How could you? That was my camera phone. It had pictures.” She whirled to Alexa. “Photos of our father’s birthday party. Of our parents! Get out. Now. I don’t want to see any of you.”

Tuckerinal sat up. He wasn’t happy and grinning now. I can show them. All. I can repeat voice mail. He opened his mouth.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Cassidy’s deep tones rolled out. “Can’t tell you how much I want you, how I’m lookin’ forward to after shift. Later.”

Elizabeth moaned and curled onto the bed.

Alexa was there. “I’m sorry. So sorry. You didn’t say you’d left a…a lover, too.”

“The…the…bas…tard…broke…off…our…engagement…two weeks ago,” Elizabeth said between shuddering sobs.

“Oh, gawd,” Alexa said in English. The bed dipped as she crawled closer. She sat by Elizabeth and stroked her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“I love him. Loved him.” She cried more, couldn’t seem to stop. Hadn’t she cried enough over the man? “He…saw. Me trying to…use my…my…gift.” It was all so horrible. She could remember her despair that a young girl was dying, her desperate hope that she could call down a miracle. Her failure.

“He…was…appalled…A…doctor, rational person…” He hadn’t loved her enough.

Two small forms settled on either side of her. One purred near her abdomen. She reached out and tangled her fingers in long, soft fur. Sinafinal, as the cat. A long nose nuzzled the back of her knee.

I made Elizabeth cry. I am very sorry. I will make it up somehow. A doggy sigh. I could not resist the nuts. A little one comes. We both need energy and Power and Song for it.

That made no sense to Elizabeth.

Alexa said. “You will take care of all the photos for Elizabeth. Not one must be lost. We’ll see what we can do about having them, um, hard-copied.”

The absurdity of that—hard-copied from a dog’s stomach?—just made Elizabeth cry harder.



The sick child was a girl of about seven or eight, sturdy. Probably too heavy for the mother to carry, but she held her child with desperate strength.

With a careful sweep of his arm, Sevair shoved the stacks of papers aside, then took the child, carried her to the conference table.

“Sevair, this is not the place…” said one hefty man shrinking back to the side of the room. Sevair and the woman—now twisting her hands in her apron—were between the citymaster and the door, otherwise Bri thought he might have bolted.

“This is exactly the place. Exactly our priority. Exactly our duty.” Sevair bit the words off. He gently laid the girl on the table, grabbed his overtunic, stuffed it under her head.

“Medica?” His look was a demand.

Bri found herself rubbing her hands. She stopped, shifted her shoulders, drew in a deep breath and went to the child. The girl was unconscious, so no talking to her about where it hurt. Opening her mouth, Bri caught sweet, labored breathing. No coating of white on her tongue. She checked under her eyes. Nothing there, either.

No use. She’d just have to trust in the healingstream, in the magic and Power of this dimension. That everyone was right and her hands would be enough. Sure weren’t any antibiotics around. She stroked the child from head to toe, heat radiated from her throat and her abdomen.

Keeping in mind what the medica had said, Bri strained to hear the chakra centers, the chimes. Cacophony clashed in her mind, in her ears, rocking her back and making her shake her head to get rid of the sound, like cars crashing. Terrible sound.

One more lung-filling breath. Ease it out and reach. Again Power slammed into her. Her body jerked. Strong hands grasped her shoulders, excess energy went through that link.

Heal her, said Sevair.

She looked for the chakras, couldn’t make out the jumble of colors. So Bri shut her eyes and prayed. Found the Song again. The Song of the child. The Song of herself. The throbbing Song of the Power flowing through her.

But it needed to be controlled, focused, sent to the right organs in the correct order, so the most important systems were strengthened first to support the healing of the rest. Power flowed through her. Had she reached for it? She didn’t know, but knew there was plenty here.

The Songs drowned out all thought. She touched young flesh. She healed. Without thought and without plan and without reason.

Later she found herself shivering, lifted and folded into a chair, Sevair’s tunic now draping her. Her vision cleared, and she saw a bunch of people near the table, the citymasters, the woman holding and rocking her girl, tears and snot streaming down her face, a big man in rough clothes.

If Bri could have spared the breath for a sigh of relief, she would have. She’d done it. She was so much stronger here to be able to heal a strange, debilitating sickness in one session.

There was no sign of the hefty citymaster.

Songs washed through Bri, pulsed around her. Still fearful strident notes from the father and mother, the girls’ sweet tune, the intricate pattern of the citymasters.

Sevair was tapping a map with his index finger, looking at the man. “You live here?”

“Ayes.” The man nodded.

With a brusque nod of his own, Sevair placed another red dot on the map.

“Outlying farm area, again,” a woman said.

“Yes,” Sevair said.

“I don’t see any kind of pattern we can work with.” An older man crossed his arms. “Hard to stop such a sickness if we don’t know where it will strike next.”

“Let alone why,” said the woman.

“Who all have you been with today?” asked a different woman of the farm wife.

The farm woman dragged a rag from her pocket, wiped her face and nose. “Ella collapsed in Noix Market Square.”

“Wonderful.” Deep sarcasm came from the older man.

“We must send people to the farm and the square,” Sevair said. “I’ll have an assistant accompany these folk home.”

Bri stirred, tried to stand, couldn’t, she felt like an aged grandmother. After licking her lips, she forced words from a dry throat. “Bring the girl to me.” With her quavery voice she even sounded like an old grandmother. At least the typical stereotype. Her own were professional women. And her brain was nattering.

The man in farmer’s clothes lifted his daughter and carried her to Bri, setting her across Bri’s lap, supporting her.

The girl looked fine. Good color. Bri tested her forehead, temperature seemed all right, checked her tongue and eyes again, all good.

She slipped her hand through the gaping shirt. Again warm skin, her patient’s heart thumped with a regular beat, her lungs filled and emptied. After a couple of sips of breath, Bri opened herself to the sound of the chakras. They hummed with what she was beginning to understand was healthful normality.

Incredible.

“She’s good,” she said to the man watching intently.

He smiled and she saw even, white teeth, then he took his daughter. “Yes, medica, she is good. A good girl, good daughter. We would have been sad without her.” His commonplace words were backed by Song, and Bri first heard the tones of a loving family: father, mother, two sons, two daughters. All experiencing euphoria at the saving of Ella. All sending Bri their utmost gratitude.

Too much to handle seriously. She cleared her throat, “Tell me, sir, do you raise vegetables?”

His brows winged up at being called sir, then he smiled again, his chest puffed out. “The best chouys in Lladranan.”

“Chouys, huh?” Bri caught Sevair’s eye. “We will keep him in mind, right?”

“As you wish, Exotique.” Sevair did the torso incline.

“My thanks and my woman’s thanks,” the farmer said formally to Bri, then to the guildspeople.

The farm woman came over to Bri, studied her. “Merci.” Reached out her hand. Bri took it and their fingers locked. “Merci.” The woman squeezed her hand, let go and followed her husband to the door, she drew herself up and said, “It is good that you Summoned an Exotique Medica for us all.” They left.

While Bri was still contemplating these words, Sevair scooped her from the chair.

“I can walk!”

“Can you?’

“Yes.”

He set her on her feet, but kept an arm loosely around her waist, steadying her. Her legs were a little wobbly, but the feel of the stone under her feet seemed to help. She straightened, took a step, paused, took another step. Everyone watched her. The women smiled. The old man scowled. “If this is the Power cost of Healing one child, we have big problems.”

“Yes,” Sevair said briefly.

“They healed sixteen last night,” someone said.

“We were together,” Bri said. “My twin sister and I. And we were in the Castle with a lot of Power.”

“And with the Marshalls, who themselves are greatly Powerful,” Sevair said.

“This room is good,” Bri said.

The woman nodded. “We will scout out other places of Power that will be good for healing if an epidemic comes.”

“When the epidemic comes,” Sevair said.

Bri shuffled faster and made it to the door before the argument truly began. She stepped away from Sevair’s arm, tilted and had to brace a hand against the wall.

Sevair finished snicking the lock to the door behind them, and held out his arm with old-time courtesy. Bri took it, managed a weak smile, and they walked very slowly down the corridor. Every other man she knew would have been impatient with her, would have picked her up and carried her to wherever they were going, not simply walked step-by-step in silence. Sevair Masif was a real stand-up guy.

When they reached the door, he held it open to show a carriage pulled by a team of horses just beyond the pillared portico. “The Citymasters’ equipage to take you to your new home,” he said.

Before they even crossed the threshold, there was the sound of hoofbeats, rustling and a protesting neigh from Mud. Me! It was loud, demanding, and inescapable.




11


The volaran pranced.

“It’s only a few blocks to her new home,” Sevair said.

Mud rolled big eyes at him.

Sevair sighed. “Very well. The tailor will be coming shortly and we are, as usual, running late.” He lifted Bri and mounted behind her. Sevair projected a pretty square full of mature trees and flower beds, surrounded by three-story town houses set closely together. He indicated one with pillars in the front and a long back garden.

Mud lifted off, as light as a feather caught by a spring breeze. She soared over the square and people cheered again, sent blessings Bri could actually feel along with a rise of Song. Fabulous.

She leaned against Sevair, solid behind her, and observed as they skimmed over roofs.

The square with the house wasn’t more than two streets over, and the neighborhood was smaller than she realized, cozier. A lot of people seemed to be in the park, “casually” watching. No doubt everyone knew she’d be living here.

It was finally sinking in that she was a celebrity. How very odd. She’d been in places where her skin or face weren’t the same as most of the local population, and she’d earned respect from people, but nothing like this.

Mud landed softly in the beautifully landscaped backyard. Sevair lifted her down. This was her new home? Her nerves jangled. She’d never even thought of buying a house, let alone something as—substantial—as this one. It was a full three stories and of creamy-colored worked stone, like the limestone she’d seen in the English Cotswolds. Looking down the block, she saw a variety of styles, all melding into a harmonious whole. No doubt all belonging to upstanding and sober citizens.

She was in over her head. The soles of her feet prickled. “It’s…it’s lovely,” she forced out.

Sevair’s expression lightened. “All of the artisans of Castleton worked to provide the best for you.”

Uh-oh. Major expectations. She wet her lips. “Great.”

“I’ll show you the inside in a moment. Now, Mud…” Speaking slowly, with gestures and clear mind images, Sevair told Mud she could return to the Castle, or be stabled with other volarans in a different part of town.

Bri stroked Mud. “Thank you. I’m honored you’ll stay in town.” As soon as she patted the flying horse’s neck and stepped away, Mud took off. Bri watched the volaran, heart squeezing. Not a sight that she’d ever see on Earth.

Sevair cleared his throat. When she turned to him, he offered his arm. Bri hesitated, but curled her hand in the crook of his elbow. His muscle was like the stone he worked. He led her along meandering stepping stones to a back door that was fancy enough to be on the front of any house. Placing his hand on the knob, he hummed a few chords, and made Bri repeat them to unlock and lock the door.

They stepped into an impressive kitchen of pristine white tile, but he moved her through it quickly, hardly giving her time to look around. “We’ve arranged for all your meals to be delivered. You need only list what you want daily.”

“Um, merci.” Guess she wasn’t expected to learn magical cooking.

“We wish you to concentrate on your medica gifts.”

She’d always done that, but to hear it as a duty was a little off-putting.

The hallway was papered in pale lavender, with a faint pattern of darker-colored leaves and flower sprigs. His gaze lingered on the purple streaks in her hair that she’d begun to regret. “Purple is the traditional color for Exotiques.”

“Oh.”

“But Alyeka and Marian and Calli have not used the color much in their furnishings. So we, too, limited the use.” A small cough. “Except for one bedroom.” Again he glanced at her hair, “should you prefer it.”

He showed her the rest of the house. The luxury and space of it intimidated her with the expectations the citymasters had of her, the belief she’d stay in Lladrana. Each wooden panel and piece of furniture was carefully crafted of the best materials. A showplace. She didn’t know if she could live in a showplace, but to refuse and dent everyone’s pride was impossible.

The master bedroom was on the third floor, with a balcony over the square and a wide window to the north, showing the Castle. She had a prized corner lot. The guest bedroom was an explosion of purple. Someone had put it together with care, with various shades and rich textures, but her eyes watered just looking at it.

Sevair watched her closely. Not time to tell him that she and Elizabeth had finished their purple phase at seven years old. “It’s…interesting.”

He chuckled, relaxed. “Then we were correct in keeping to a more traditional decorating scheme for the master bedroom.”

“Ayes,” she said.

Harp strings came at her door. Bri blinked.

“The doorharp is bespelled so you can hear it anywhere,” Sevair said. He went to the bedside table and picked up something that looked like a real horn and spoke. “Who’s there?”

“Geraint.” Bri heard the answer.

Sevair said, “My assistant.” Then into the horn, “Ayes?”

“The other citymasters request that you accompany the farmer home after market.”

Eyebrows winging up, Sevair said, “Come in,” and set the horn down. He hummed the unlock spell on the front door. His expression had gone serious again. “We citymasters had intended a dinner in your honor this evening, then decided after you healed the child that you should rest. Will you be all right here on your own?”

Bri blinked at him. She’d traveled the world over and had been all right on her own. She’d been careful—mostly. “Ayes.”

A young man wearing gray walked toward them. He bowed.

“My assistant, Geraint, who attends to my office, will be available to you for anything.”

“Salutations,” Bri said.

Sevair turned to Geraint and spoke of reassuring the countryside that their concerns were not overlooked. Bri drifted toward the creamy-yellow painted bedroom. Cheerful and sunny, especially on this gray day, she liked it, though it was a trifle too fussy with lace.

Earlier she’d set down her pack on the desk. It looked totally out of place here. High-tech materials against silk and brocade and lace, gender-neutral in a very feminine room. The citymasters had obviously expected their Exotique to be female.

Again harp strings sounded. Bri looked around and found a shell-like horn on the bedside. She picked it up. “Who’s there?” That was what Sevair said.

“The tailor, my lady,” said a female voice.

“Is that the right greeting?” Bri asked. “Who’s there?”

A little cough on the other end of the horn. “Ayes.”

“Thank you,” Bri said. “The door is unlocked, please come in. I’ll meet you in the parlor.” There was a parlor.

She turned and found Sevair at the door, Geraint hovering behind him.

“Unless you want me to stay, I’ll leave now.” Sevair’s voice was matter-of-fact, but his gaze was warm with a touch of curiosity. When she listened, she thought the vibrations of his Song expressed interest—personal—in her.

He smiled. “Citymaster Nu will take care of you. She’s an excellent tailor and already has a wardrobe planned.”

Bri glanced around. “So all my needs will be provided by citymasters?” That didn’t come out the way she’d intended.

His gaze lingered on her face. “Ayes, anything you wish for will be provided.”

“Ah, how about lunch?” Her mind went back to the potato casserole and her mouth watered.

“Of course.” He looked at a water clock set on an beautifully sculpted table made especially for it, smiled again. “The clock is understandable and acceptable?”

“Ayes, we know that time passes the same here as at home. The clock is charming.” The rush of water soothed her.

“I’d heard that time is the same and so are clocks,” Sevair said. “And the table?”

The intensity of his glance clued her in. “You made it? It’s beautiful.” A short pillar with a delicate stone floral vine covering the underlying flutes. Bri thought she even saw a fairy face peeking out between leaves.

He nodded. “Thank you.”

She wondered how much more of his work she’d find in the house. Something to look for.

“As for lunch,” Sevair said, “it should have arrived and been placed in the kitchen for you. We have cold and hot boxes to keep the food at the proper temperature. The other Exotiques—all three of them—planned the menus.” Amusement laced his tones. “There was lively discussion.” He sobered again. “However, the tailor is here…”

She suppressed a sigh. The woman was probably a busy person and Bri was taking up time. “Yes. The tailor first. And I’m a little tired. I’ll rest.”



“Everything okay?” Alexa asked.

Elizabeth looked around. The extra bed and wardrobe had been removed, the furniture rearranged. Bri’s fragrance, more, her Song, still floated in the rooms, reaching Elizabeth’s heart. She’d only had the company of her sister for a few brief hours before they’d been separated again. Not their choice this time. Or perhaps it had been too easy to accommodate the wishes of the Lladranans and they should have thought more of themselves. But they hadn’t been given the time.

Going back out to the sitting room, Elizabeth checked the potatoes and went to the chest. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the clean empty serving bowl that had held the fruit salad. Her mother’s special-occasion china.

What would her parents think when they discovered their daughters were missing? Elizabeth’s car was in her allotted apartment parking spot, but…. She shut off that line of thinking. There was nothing she could do about it right now, and it would only muddle her thoughts when she needed all her wits to deal with the current situation.

Her mind went back to what Alexa had said before. Elizabeth asked, “Any idea what this item…the Dark wants…is? Is it physical?”

“No, we don’t know what it is. Yes, we know it’s physical. We think the Dark originally came to this planet through the dimensional corridor and landed in Lladrana, then left and settled in the north on its own cozy volcanic island. But it either lost this object or didn’t realize it needed it.”

“Hmm,” Elizabeth managed.

Alexa said, “So, the Dark wants this item, and we think it’s somehow sent this sickness as a plague to wipe the Lladranans out. The monsters haven’t been able to penetrate the northern border and take the thing. So killing us all with an epidemic might be an alterative plan.” Her steps slowed; she studied Elizabeth with cool eyes. “That’s your task, your’s and your sister’s. To find a cure for the plague.”

“Nothing like a little pressure,” Elizabeth said.

Alexa shrugged. “That’s life on Lladrana. You, what, just got certified as a medical doctor? Did internships and residency? That ain’t exactly a walk in the park.” She’d switched to English again, and Elizabeth’s head began to ache.

Elizabeth said in Lladranan, “No, my training to be an E.R. doctor wasn’t easy.” ‘Training” was a word she’d already learned. “But it was a long ordeal, now over.”

“Ah, and now I’m asking you to gird your loins for another long ordeal.”

“If most Exotiques fulfill their task within two months for the Snap, Bri and I can do it, too.” Elizabeth was feeling overwhelmed, but wouldn’t admit doubt to anyone other than Bri.

Blinking, Alexa said, “Fulfilled their task in two months?”

“You said that the Snap averages two months, and one of the prerequisites for the Snap is the fulfillment of a task.”

“Excellent deduction.” Faucon, the elegant Chevalier said from the door. He looked around. “All is as it should be.”

“You did your task in two months,” Elizabeth said.

Alexa pinkened. “A little over.”

“Marian succeeded in a month,” Faucon said, and grunted when Alexa elbowed him. “And Calli—”

“Calli decided early on to stay in Lladrana,” Alexa said.

“Bri and I will work hard on our task,” Elizabeth said. “But we want to return home. We have our parents to consider. They’ll worry.” She lifted her chin. “Imagine how you’d feel if your children disappeared.”

Scowling, Alexa said, “We understand that.”

“Good. Understand that our food and our belongings are ours.”

“Fine, fine.” Alexa waved a hand.

“Promise.”

“I promise,” Alexa ground out between her teeth.

“You seem to be giving us a list of rules and requirements. I’m just returning the favor,” Elizabeth said, and the phrase sounded fine in Lladranan.

Faucon indicated the potatoes. “I can arrange for a cold storage box to be put in your dining area,” he said smoothly.

“Aren’t those expensive?” Alexa grumbled.

Faucon just kept smiling.

“Right, with you, zhiv—money—is no problem,” Alexa answered herself.

“I’d like the cold box,” Elizabeth said. She sent a look to Alexa. “You were all very free with your bribes to keep us here this morning.”

Alexa’s chin came up. She touched her baton. “Exotiques who stay get an estate and a lifetime salary. That’s the deal. The citymasters have a house for you in Castleton, but if you both stay you can have what you want, where you want.”

“We won’t be staying.”

“I’ll let you get settled,” Alexa said. Her eyes softened. “Despite all its dangers, Lladrana can be a wonderful home.”

“I’m sure,” Elizabeth murmured.

Alexa dug into a pocket and came out with a small crystal sphere. “Almost forgot, this is for you. Communication to any of us, though, um, we may develop a telepathic link as we go along.”

Elizabeth took it. Even as she watched the crystal clouded. She hurriedly placed it on the sideboard.

“We also have an internal communication system.” Alexa picked up a cow’s horn. “Magic—or rather Power. It doesn’t use much energy. Feel free to call.” She walked to the door.

“Thank you.” Elizabeth’s mouth dried. Soon she’d be alone. She should cherish the time alone, as she’d learned to do during her medical training back home. But this wasn’t home.

From the doorway, Alexa said to Faucon, “Aren’t you coming?”

“In a moment.”

She snorted again and disappeared into the hallway.

Elizabeth met Faucon’s warm, dark chocolate-brown eyes.

“You will have the cold-storage box within the hour.” He hesitated, came up to her and took her limp hand. Only when she felt the warmth of his fingers did she realize how cold her own were, though the room was nearly hot.

He squeezed her hand. “Please, call on me if you have any other wishes you want fulfilled. I would be your friend.”

From the lilt of sensual Song coming from him, Elizabeth was sure he wanted more. As she gazed at his elegant features, her pulse picked up, surprising her.

Keeping his eyes on her, he kissed her hand, let it go. “Until later.”

“Later,” Elizabeth whispered.

He went out the door and closed it behind him.

Elizabeth stared at the strange room, full of beautiful furniture, the window showing a landscape of gray and green rolling hills. No mountains. No plains.

The white chest from a place a world away.

She found herself on a new segment of her life, and not the new segment she had planned.

And a new man?




12


Elizabeth spent her afternoon studying in-depth with the medicas, especially the non-invasive healing of muscle and bone. As predicted—or perhaps dreaded—a Chevalier fighting pair had arrived in bad shape.

Calli and the Marshalls took care of the volarans’ injuries since the medicas wanted to teach Elizabeth.

The Marshalls’ healing circle was more like calling down a blessing, or general healing, not detailed work with the chakras—God help her!—or individual systems of anatomy. The medicas could do this, too, and had participated in such circles to use the Marshalls’ incredible strength and teamwork. But individually and in pairs and triads, the medicas were more specialized, drawing on what Bri called the healingstream and performing with their minds and magic what surgical teams would do with hands and tools.

Incidentally, Elizabeth learned other things. The Chevaliers she worked on were an independent pair, which meant that they were poor and didn’t fly under anyone’s banner, like Faucon’s people. The image of that man distracted her for a moment, and she had to ask for elucidation of the lesson. The medicas were waiving their fee because they were teaching her.

The Chevaliers were pairbonded which meant marriage, and no stigma attached to homosexuality in this culture, a very good thing.

And the wounds were fearsome.

Elizabeth had never seen anything like them and had to keep her breathing, her emotions detached, her mind focused so she wouldn’t vomit.

She learned from the medicas which “horrors” perpetrated each wound. Apparently the Chevaliers had been unlucky enough to run into a combination of all three major horrors.

The long, deep and razor-thin slices were from “renders.” The easiest to mend with Power. “Slayers” had duller claws but poisonous spines. Elizabeth helped flush the poison from the Chevalier’s system, through the skin pores, which was gross enough to remind her of her beginning days of med school. Little round bumps left from “soul-suckers” showed a deadening of the skin around the wounds. Physical life force had been drawn from that injury.

What was even more incredible to Elizabeth was that sometimes the Chevaliers wouldn’t get help if they felt the wounds weren’t severe enough.

Any wound was dangerous in Elizabeth’s mind. The Lladranans had a different point of view. A very, very tough people.

A people who’d been at war for a long time.



Bri woke from her nap feeling restless. She tried to reach Elizabeth telepathically and was reassured when she touched her twin’s sleeping mind. They’d be able to communicate mentally, then. She wandered through the rooms, feeling like the greatest fraud. This wasn’t her; usually she shared small rooms with other women of her ilk. What would she do if she were in a new place on Earth? She’d go out. Even if she was unsure of the language, she’d unpack then hit the streets. Something was always going on outside if she didn’t want to stay in.




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