Read Protector of the Flight Online

Authors: Robin D. Owens

Protector of the Flight (13 page)

Alexa
snickered. Marian touched Calli’s shoulder. “This is important. A certain
proportion of the Lladranan population find you—us—Exotiques, instinctively
repulsive or attractive.”

“Might
be pheromones.” Alexa bit into a slice of toast.

“Interesting
idea,” Marian said.

“With
your coloring, blond hair and blue eyes, you’re even more Exotique than either
of us,” Alexa said.

Calli
didn’t think so. Alexa was little and had green eyes, Marian auburn hair and
blue eyes. “Faucon and Luthan?” Now that she recalled her meeting with Faucon
last night in the stables, she remembered odd fluctuations in his aura. Was
that why Bastien had moved him along, because Faucon was more blinded by her
“Exotiqueness” than interested in her as a person?

“Faucon
is attracted to Exotiques. Luthan, Bastien’s brother, is repulsed. You’ll work
with both of them. They should be here this morning to meet you.”

“They
are,” Marian murmured. She waved to three men who stood and approached.

“Who’s
the third?” Calli asked.

“My
brother Koz.” Marian hesitated. “His mind and soul and emotions are my brother
Andrew in a Lladranan body.”

Calli
thought her mouth dropped wide open. She didn’t know that she liked the idea of
different bodies and souls.

Marian
said, “It’s a long story. We should have just given you our Lorebooks. The
Lorebooks of Exotique Alexa and the Lorebook of Exotique Marian, where Alexa
and I wrote down our experiences.”

“Thank
you, and that might have worked best for you and Alexa, but I liked, like,
having things explained personally.” Calli turned her gaze to Alexa. “Thank you
for being here. It’s been a great help.”

Alexa
pinkened.

At
that moment the guy wearing pure white leathers stopped, held himself stiffly,
shuddered, then drew a deep breath. His lips thinned as if in anger and disgust
and Calli knew Alexa was right. The man didn’t like that he had this response
to Exotiques. That he was less than perfect? Or that he saw himself less than a
normal Lladranan?

Faucon
pulled ahead of the other two, a twinkle in his eye. At least he didn’t have a
dumb-ass stupid dazed and infatuated look on his face. So he controlled his
“innate attraction” to some extent, too. Interesting.

Koz
caught up with Faucon. Luthan drew near more slowly.

When
he and Koz neared the table, Faucon stepped in front of the other man, bowed
and said the same thing he had the night before. “Prie introd moi?”

Alexa
shoved back her chair and stood. Calli figured breakfast was over and swallowed
her last luscious bite of croissant. She’d have to make sure the Chevaliers’
Dining Room in Horseshoe Hall had the same quality. And that idea about stopped
her heart. She was planning.

For
a life on Lladrana.

A
teeny plan, but it had risen to her mind naturally and that was a little scary.

She
put her utensils down carefully, then stood herself.

“Callista
Torcher, I’d like to present Faucon Creusse, an excellent volaran rider and
Chevalier. A wealthy, noble landowner and all-around great guy,” Alexa said.

Faucon
took one of Calli’s limp hands and raised it to his lips. He brushed a kiss on
the back and she felt a definite tingle and a couple of musical notes sounded
in her head. Maybe things were looking up. He said something in a liquid,
caressing tone. Since his eyes had heated, she thought it must be
complimentary.

“Hey,
ladies,” Koz said in accented English, jostling Faucon down a couple of seats.
The other man scowled at Koz’s use of English.

Marian
cleared her throat. Her aura was a little spiky. “Calli, my brother Koz Perrin,
late of San Mateo, California. Koz, Calli Torcher of the Rocking Bar T Ranch,
Colorado.”

He
grinned, showing white, even teeth, and held out his hand as if to shake. Calli
grasped his and felt a tiny stirring, a little “plink” like one key struck on a
piano. “When you get your ranch here, you’ll have to call it the
Flying
Bar T.”

She
laughed and shook his hand. She liked him.

Marian
rose. Koz hugged his sister, ruffled her hair. “So, what’s up?”

“We’re
going shopping in Castleton,” Alexa said. “Measuring Calli for several pair of
leathers, some chain mail—it’s magically light—and buying whatever else strikes
our fancy.”

“Man,
here or there, women are all the same.” Koz grimaced. When Faucon asked a
question, Koz turned to him and translated. Faucon put a hand on his heart and
inclined his torso, speaking.

“Girls
only!” Alexa said.

Koz
smiled again. “Too bad.” But when he relayed the information to Faucon, that
man sighed and sat at the table.

“Isn’t
this the
Marshalls’
Dining Room?” Calli asked, stepping into the aisle
behind Alexa as she walked to the door.

“Yes,
but Luthan is the representative of the Singer and wealthy. And Koz was looking
for his sister, who is a Circlet and in the company of a Marshall,” Alexa said.

“So,
I suppose I’ll also have a special dispensation to eat here, too.” Calli
thought of the croissants.

“For
sure.” Alexa smiled ironically. “I can promise you that the Marshalls will want
to grill you from time to time.”

“Wonderful.”

Marian
said, “Both Faucon and Koz will be at your Choosing.”

Calli
swallowed, but she listened to the women’s stories of attraction/repulsion
experiences and how Koz came to be Lladranan as they walked to the stables.

Calli
had insisted on checking on Thunder and giving him a treat of a juicy apple.
When he nuzzled her and she stroked his neck, breathing in the amber scent of
volaran, ran a finger down some wing feathers, once again she thought she could
accept this place.

“Shopping!”
Marian called from outside the stables.

“I
want to fly with you,” Calli whispered to Thunder. “But I don’t like the tack.
I’ll order something different in town.”

He
whickered.
I am Volaran Valley born. I do not like the tack, either. Thank
you. I love you.

With
one last rub of his nose, she stepped away, blinking. Stupid tears. Her throat
was tight, too. She repeated the image he’d sent to her of a beating heart.
I
love you.

Alexa
kicked the dirt, sighed. “This mutual admiration society meeting done?”

Turning,
Calli forced a smile and found it came easier than she’d thought at the
wariness she saw on Alexa’s face when she looked at Thunder. “Hey, I’m the
Exotique
Summoned
for the volarans. I know and love them, and they adore
me.” She said it, knowing it was true.

“Yeah,
yeah.” Alexa waved and took off at a brisk pace.

“What
do you have against volarans?” asked Calli.

“I
didn’t ride before I came.”

“City
girl.”

“You
got it. And since—” she scowled at the stables “—I’ve broken both my arms
twice, I don’t care for flying. I. Fall. Off.”

“Oh.”

“I
know you’re laughing.”

Calli
cleared her throat. “Did it occur to you that you might have better luck with
different tack?”

Alexa
slanted her a surprised look. “City girl. No.” But she appeared to be
considering, and her expression lightened.

Calli,
Marian and Alexa walked from the stables through Horseshoe Close and the
Chevaliers who were in the courtyard all stopped and stared at them, many
bowing. Calli followed Alexa’s lead and nodded to them.

The
walk down to Castleton was pretty and she found the town just that, an odd
little place that wasn’t quite a city, definitely nothing like Old West ghost
towns she’d seen, or the old center of modern Western cities.

“More
like late Renaissance or early industrial age than medieval,” Marian said.

“You
should know. But I wasn’t thinking in medieval terms, either. I want to visit a
blacksmith and tack and saddle maker first,” Calli said.

“Okay,”
said Alexa.

“Why
don’t you have blacksmiths and artisans up at the Castle?”

“We do.”
Alexa shook her head. “But the best live in the city. Don’t want to be under
the Marshalls’ and Chevaliers’ thumbs, I suppose.”

“And
there’s the fact that until a couple of years ago the Marshalls and Chevaliers
usually lived on their estates—before the fence posts began to fall and the
situation became dire,” Marian said.

Calli
sucked in a deep breath. “You’d better tell me about these monsters.”

“We’ll
take you to the Nom de Nom,” Alexa said.

“The
what?”

“The
tavern where the Chevaliers hang out.”

“Oh,”
Calli said.

“It
has
trophies
…heads and other body parts,” said Marian.

“Oh.”
The hollow tone was back in her voice, along with a nice sick feeling in her
stomach. “I’m going to have to fight these things, right?”

“Right.
But I think you’ll find you’re a natural,” Alexa said. “We’ll train you…and
when
you Choose and Bond with a Lladranan, you’ll become a fighting pair. A Sword
for offense and a Shield for defense.” Alexa tapped her chest. “I’m a Sword,
Bastien is my Shield. I fight with magic and magical weapons. He protects me
magically. Here’s the saddle maker, right next to the smithy.”

Neither
of those places looked like anything Calli had ever seen, though the inside of
the small shop smelled like fine leather and wood. She spent some time drawing
what she considered the perfect saddle, hackamore and other tack for the
craftswoman who kept darting fascinated glances at her. It took twice the time
it should have since neither Alexa nor Marian knew the proper Lladranan words
for such specific items.

All
of them watched the blacksmith for a time. Marian and Alexa seemed to like
seeing how he worked with metal and magic. The heat sizzled around them.

Squinting
up at the sun, Calli wiped her sleeve across her forehead. She judged the time
as late morning.

“She
needs a cowboy hat. A Stetson!” Alexa cried. “We
all
need cowboy hats!
Oh, yeah, I can see us now. The Exotique Gang.” She did a little boogie and her
boots kicked up dust. Then she lifted a foot. “And some of those excellent
cowboy boots, worked in patterns and colors and stuff. We need to show these
people our cultural heritage!”

Calli
and Marian laughed together, and it felt really good to laugh with other women.

Marian
gestured to her robe. “Can you see me in a cowboy hat and
this?

“Well,
it can’t be any worse than that hat Bastien designed, which is all the rage.”

“And
Jaquar wears the original all the time and looks like a dweeb. All too true.”
Marian shook her head.

“It’s
time
you get tailored leathers, Marian. A cowboy hat and boots would
complete the ensemble.”

Calli
nudged Alexa with her elbow. “You ever had a cowboy hat, city-girl lawyer?”

Alexa
scowled. “No, but only because I could never find one to fit me.”

She
was
awfully small. “You could have had one made to order.” Calli didn’t say she could
have bought a girl’s size.

“Yeah,
like I had the dough.” Alexa snorted, then jingled money—zhiv—in her pockets
and beamed. “But I do now. I’m not leaving this place until I order a cowboy
hat!” She frowned. “You have any idea how they make them or the design
dimensions or what, Calli?”

“I’ve
worn them all my life, had a few droop with rain, freeze with snow and
generally get trampled under hooves. I think I can give the hatmaker a good
idea of what we want.”

“Good,
off to the leathers tailor,” Alexa said.

“Combat
cuirtailleur,” Marian murmured. Catching Calli’s expression, she said, “The
fighting-leathers tailor.” Her lips quirked. “Naturally Alexa patronizes only
the best.”

“Oh,”
Calli said. She walked with them three abreast on sidewalks along a spacious
street, until they reached a large shop with wide windows. There she got
measured for several sets of leathers and her blood chilled as she thought of
fighting. Marian stood by and translated for her.

Calli
pointed to a pile of “leather” squares on the counter. “What are these?”

Alexa
glanced at them, went over and inspected the stack, flipped through and shoved
each square at Calli. “Soul-sucker,” a thick gray lizard-like skin. “Slayer,”
yellow with long yellow fur and strange round bare spots. “Render,” thick,
tough skin with a black pelt the consistency of steel wool. “Snipper,”
something like Calli suspected rhinoceros hide to be. “Dreeth,” a fine, thin
but incredibly strong skin of fine snakelike scales “Dreeth?” Alexa looked up
at the old, wizened tailor. “Where did you get dreeth? And how much do you have
of it?”

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