Echoes in the Dark

He’d serve Lladrana itself, the planet Amee, and the Exotiques. They were the spearhead against the Dark.

He would double-check all the Singer’s statements. Reluctantly, he transferred the lovely new Exotique to the burly Friend. Chasonette settled on the man’s head and he winced.

Bri, Luthan said mentally, keeping his tone calm and un-hurried. The Singer has convinced me that the new Exotique should remain here.

But—

There are good reasons. The last Friend sidled through the chapter house door. The Singer went to her own door and flung it open for the man holding the Exotique. There was a tinier room that Luthan understood was a box that moved between floors. The Singer stepped in, watching him.

“She will be taken to a luxurious suite that has been prepared specifically for her,” the Singer said, her smile turning satisfied.

Luthan didn’t like any of her previous smiles, nor the smug one she sent him now. She lifted a hand. “You have been an excellent representative. Take care of the problem of the other Exotiques. We will talk later.”

Anger welled again. She’d held great Power—the Power of the Oracle of Lladrana—for too long. And her secrecy had helped separate the factions over the past decades.

He had much to discuss with the Exotiques and they didn’t totally trust him because he’d been the Singer’s man. He’d have to talk fast.

If he were clever and lucky enough, he could speak with them one at a time and convince them to let the new one stay with the Singer. Save himself grief. Not a good position for a man who’d once been called the most honorable in Lladrana to be in.

Luthan opened the door to Bri and Sevair. The healer’s husband had a grip around her biceps and she shifted from foot to foot. She’d cut her brown hair again and it was shorter than most men’s, some standing out in spikes at the top. In style, she was the most outrageous of all the Exotiques, but at least the purple streaks were gone. She wore a medica’s red travel tunic with a white cross.

The roc had moved to a spacious courtyard within earshot, eyes gleaming and wicked beak slightly open as if ready to pounce.

Bowing, Luthan addressed them, “Salutations.”

Bri frowned. Sevair had taken to carrying his stonemason’s hammer as a weapon in a sling on his hip. His fingers touched the handle, but he inclined his head. “Salutations, Luthan.”

Luthan raised his voice. “Lady roc, if you are hungry, the Singer’s cattle herd is to the northwest.”

Thank you, Chevalier, the roc said, projecting her thoughts into all their minds. Her tone, too, was mocking and Luthan was getting damned tired of that, but he’d brought this situation upon himself by trusting the Singer and following her orders.

Using the common link between the Exotiques and their men, Luthan spoke mind to mind. Perhaps we can adjourn to my home estate? It’s not too far from here.

Sevair frowned. Castle Vauxveau is far northwest.

Not my father’s home, but my own, Luthan said. It was the house he’d inherited from his mother’s aunt that he’d claimed as soon as he could leave his father. Not that he’d made it a home then. He’d run wild for a couple of years until he realized his younger brother was following in his footsteps.

Past mistakes, he’d made a couple of bad ones. Then he’d done fine for years, but recently…

He waved toward the entry station of the Abbey and the volaran landing field beyond. “While the roc is feeding, we can fly to my home. I’m sure the Singer won’t care if you use a couple of her volarans.” Not if it meant getting disruptive people away from her domain.

Bri’s face went stubborn. She crossed her arms under her breasts and adopted a militant stance that looked more than a little like Alexa’s. Habits were rubbing off. “I’m the Exotique Medica, I want to examine our new addition.” Bri shook her head. “Summoning is tough under any circumstances, but by the Singer—”

“The most Powerful person in Lladrana,” Luthan ended smoothly. “I saw the lady myself.”

“Female?” asked Sevair.

“Ayes, one who looks more like our people than the others.”

As expected, curiosity lit Bri’s eyes, but she stuck to the topic. “She appeared well, and tuned to Amee?”

“Ayes. The Singer Summoned her through mirror magic without my knowledge. There were the chimes, and cymbals to approximate the gong.” He raised his hand when Bri opened her mouth to speak. “When I refused to accept that the cymbals would be effective, the Singer drew the sound of the gong to us.” He shook his head. “Amazing.”

Bri huffed a breath, her stance softened. “We heard it.”

“I’m sure everyone did.”

Fingers drumming on her opposite arm, Bri searched his face. “She was well?”

“I give you my word. She appeared as if she was weary before she arrived, and the Singer immediately sent her to bed to rest. If we petition the Singer now to see her, she may deny us simply because the new Exotique is sleeping.” He paused. “She is meant for the Singer, you know.”

Bri seemed unconvinced. Luthan saw a man in the shadows. “Jongler!” he called. The man hesitated, shuffled forward. He bowed briefly, looked at Bri’s hair, glanced away. “Ayes?”

“The Singer has Friends who are medicas?” Luthan asked.

“Of course.” Jongler’s forehead lined. “She has been ill and is of a great age. We have the best medicas in the land here, two came from the Marshalls’ Castle last year.” He bowed, deeper, to Bri. “I should say the best medicas other than yourself, Exotique Medica.” A gleam came to his eyes. “If you would stay with us, I guarantee that you would be well paid.” He turned to Sevair. “And there is always work for a skilled stonemason and architect on the Abbey buildings. The Singer is delicate, and the person of the greatest importance in Lladrana. Her visions are so necessary for the future, please stay—”

But Bri was backing away, hauling Sevair, who was studying the conglomeration of buildings within the compound. “Thank you.” She glanced at Sevair, then planted her feet, raised her chin and stared at Jongler. “I insist you have a medica examine the Exotique…Singer tomorrow morning and send me a report at my tower in Castleton. You do have a crystal orb?”

Jongler was bowing again. “Of course, of course, the very best crystal, bespelled by the great Circlet Sorcerer himself, Bossgond. We also have mirrors, though none of the new, advanced ones. Yet. Still, they will do.”

“Crystal,” Bri said firmly. “You know my address?”

“The ancient Ronteran’s Tower in Castleton.” Jongler breathed the name reverently. “Ronteran was not only a Circlet Sorcerer, he was a Singer’s consort.” Jongler waved. “He designed a few of the buildings.”

“Thought I recognized his ornate style,” Sevair said. Luthan followed his gaze to a row of gargoyles.

There was a belch overhead and the scent of sweet grass—from the roc. A magical creature indeed. The great bird fluttered down. Jongler sent its bloody beak a glance of abject terror, scrambled back, still bowing to Bri. “If you ever want to change venues…” He vanished around a corner.

I flew around the compound, the roc said, eyes glittering a rainbow of dark colors. The new Singer is Powerful, healthy, resting. She is where she must be.

Bri and Sevair matched Luthan’s sigh. Magical creatures were usually cryptic.

Bri stared at Luthan. “Have you had any visions of her?”

He could feel a prophecy coalesce, didn’t want it. “No.” The vision came in a flash anyway. Despite his wishes he’d become expert in deciphering flashes of prophecy. “Only that she and I will meet you on a road, still summer.”

After searching his face, Bri nodded. “Then we’ll leave.” Again she shifted. “This place makes me nervous. I don’t want to be kidnapped.”

Luthan’s jaw flexed before he said, “I did what I had to do.”

Wincing, Bri said, “I didn’t mean—Before my time. Anyway, let’s go home. I’ll contact Calli at her estate and give her the info.” Bri took Sevair’s hand and led him to the roc.

Sevair still scanned the buildings. “Perhaps some time in the future we can visit….”

“Maybe.” Bri mounted the roc, then Sevair settled behind her. With a short, “Bye!” they flew away.

Luthan’s home