Keepers of the Flame

“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.