Keepers of the Flame

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.