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“Very observant,” Marian said.
Calli didn’t think so. It was just natural curiosity.
“She’s a Chevalier,” Alexa said.
Now, that word Calli knew. “French for horseman.”
“Right,” Marian said. “In this instance it translates to ‘Knight,’ and in this culture, it means those who ride volarans or, if no volarans are around, horses. Lady Hallard is the leader of the Chevaliers, with men and women under her.” Marian gestured to a tall, lean man who wore the same yellow and green as the Lady. At Marian’s wave, he nodded, unsmiling, to them.
Again a tinge of wariness slithered up Calli’s spine. Warriors. Knights. She sensed there was a lot no one was telling her, even these seemingly welcoming women who said they were from Colorado. What was going on?
Bastien joggled his still-extended elbow. “Ven?”
“What could a tour hurt?” asked Alexa.
“You will certainly confirm that you aren’t in Colorado anymore. And once you see the volarans—”
“You’ll know you aren’t even on Earth,” Alexa said cheerfully.
Calli shuddered.
Marian touched her shoulder. “It takes some getting used to.”
Ignoring the banter, Calli swung her legs around, pushed off from the high bed and jarred to her feet. Bastien caught her hand in his and placed it on his arm, steadying her balance. There was a faint spurt of warmth from his touch but it felt unlike the women’s.
She should have shrieked in pain at the combination of movements. Instead, she felt almost as good as new. There was still a tenseness about her muscles, a sense of the fragility of her mended pelvis, something she didn’t think would ever go away, but she moved as if the fall had been a year ago, not months. That, more than anything, scared her into believing she was “somewhere else.” She didn’t want to think about that, though. She cleared her throat. “What did you do to me?”
“We healed you,” Alexa said.
Marian said, “We have magic. All of us have magic, and you do, too. It’s called Power here, and the culture is an aural one—more based on sound than vision. They call the Supreme Being ‘the Song,’ and use singing to channel their magic.”
Yeah. Right. Calli narrowed her eyes. Marian looked like a woman who would call the Supreme Being “Goddess.” Calli hadn’t often run into that religion, except the time when a pagan group held some sort of retreat on a campground near town.
She licked her lips.
“Want some water?” Marian asked. She went to an elegantly carved wooden corner table topped with marble and poured water from a pitcher into a heavy glass goblet, then brought it to Calli.
Calli sniffed, it smelled minty.
“Only water with peppermint,” Marian said.
Calli didn’t drink.
Alexa heaved a sigh. “On my word of honor, only minty water.” She touched her baton sheath.
Marian nodded. “On my word of honor.”
Alexa was from Denver and Marian from Boulder. Both city types. Would their words be good? Calli considered them and decided to trust them. It might just be a dream, after all.
As the water slid down her throat, leaving a tang of peppermint on her tongue, Calli thought it tasted awfully good and was pretty damn wet for a dream. She finished the glass and handed it to Marian, who put it back on the table.
“First things first,” Alexa said, starting toward the door. Bastien tucked Calli’s hand in his elbow and he and Calli followed Alexa.
Alexa continued. “This is the main healing room in the Keep of the Castle.”
“Keep?” asked Calli. That didn’t sound too familiar.
“Uh, the Marshalls’ Headquarters,” Alexa said. They exited into a wide hallway made of gray stone. Rustling behind her told Calli that others would be leaving, too. Now that they’d healed her. Huh. She wondered who would accompany her on the “tour.” She had an idea Marian and Faucon would come along.
“We’re on the second story of a five-story building, near the front that faces the Temple Ward. A ‘ward’ is a courtyard, and this one has a big, round Temple at the end. That’s where we Summoned you and where you came through the dimensional corridor this morning,” Alexa said.
They turned left and walked to the end of the hallway to a set of stairs.
“We’ll give you a map,” Alexa said.
“When we brief you later,” Marian said. “In private.”
That might be good. So many new faces were a little intimidating. Calli really hadn’t believed she had such an imagination to populate this dream. All of her other dreams—until recently—had been of simple stuff.
She suddenly recalled the dream that had woken her that morning. Alarms. People needing help…like several she’d had lately.
They tromped down the stairs and sounded like a bunch of people clattering down a stone staircase. The floor was hard under the soles of her boots, too.
“My tower’s diagonally behind us.” A smile flickered over Alexa’s face. “I have a whole tower to myself, here at the Marshalls’ Castle. I also have an estate of my own. You’ll get one, too.”
“A spread of my own?” Calli pounced on the statement.
“Yes.”
“Are there mountains?” Even walking down the large hallway, Calli could tell the air was more humid, felt different in her nose and on her tongue than the air she was used to. All her senses fed her unfamiliar information. She had to be dreaming, or there was a really big catch.
A shadow passed over Alexa’s face and for the first time she answered hesitantly. “There are mountains, but I don’t think you should live in them.”
“I can handle anything the mountains throw at me,” Calli said. She’d been through blizzard and fire and drought. But that was Colorado. If she was in some other dangerous place, she didn’t want to stay. She wanted her land, her ranch.
They reached a door. Alexa threw it open.
And Calli saw dozens of winged horses. Once again a flood of affection came from them.
Bastien urged her forward, but as soon as she took a step outside into the yard, the horses trumpeted in greeting.
She couldn’t help herself. Fascination at their beauty mesmerized her. She threw off Bastien’s hold and strode into the yard and was immediately surrounded by horseflesh. No, volaran flesh. Warm and fragrant and strong and just completely marvelous.
They pushed against her, noses snuffling at her hair, her shoulders, everywhere.
She was buffeted and…passed around.
What was even more fabulous was that she heard—whisperings—brushing her mind.
Our Exotique.
Our Calli.
Our friend.
She reached out and stroked a neck, patted a nose and finally touched the wing of the dappled gray stallion.
The volarans moved several lengths away from her and the gray. The courtyard fell silent. Quietly, with infinite grace, the gray stretched out his wing for her to study.
It was simply the most beautiful thing Calli had ever seen. Huge and soft with feathers. But this was a big horse. She didn’t know how it could fly.
Magic. She heard the word clearly in her mind. And our bones are strong but hollow.
She swallowed.
Quick, small footsteps advanced and Alexa joined her. The woman’s face was alight with wonder.
“They love you,” Alexa said. “You’ve only just met them and they all love you.”
Once more Calli became aware of the delight emanating from them. This time it wasn’t words or just a feeling. This time it was a Song of welcome, blended of harmonies that sang of wild flight with the wind, of running, of pirouetting and playing in the air.
Like the sound that she had heard as a child when riding free and fast across a mountain meadow. A sound so sweet it made tears sting her eyes.
There were quick notes that skipped like her pulse before a barrel-riding competition.
The tune changed, became a song of fighting in battle.
An alarm clanged, echoing around the stone castle walls, pounding danger into the silence, breaking the mental song into a hundred fragments.
“Horrors invading through Arde Pass!” Alexa shouted.
Suddenly Bastien was there, running past them and grabbing Alexa. Saddles appeared on the backs of many volarans. Calli goggled. Had to be magic.
Bastien flung Alexa up onto the back of a big, black volaran, sprang into the saddle behind her and they rose in an upward spiral.
Calli’s breath caught as feathered wings swept the sky, flashing all colors against a bright blue. There was nothing so beautiful as a volaran in flight. The loveliness tightened her stomach.
Others ran and claimed their mounts. Calli saw Lady Hallard, Faucon, a man in pristine white leathers. Chevaliers in riding garb and Marshalls in their armor, all rose on a flurry of wings.
Two hawks bulleted from the Castle walls and flew beside Alexa. Soon, only a few volarans remained in the courtyard, including the gray and a mare with her young filly. Marian, a tall man with startling blue eyes and a golden headband standing next to her and some soldiers were the only people around.
Slowly Calli turned to the Circlets—Marian and her husband. A question she didn’t want answered tore from her throat. “Where did they go?”
“They go to fight the invading monsters. To live or die,” Marian said, face white and strained.
It had to be a dream.
4
Calli ran her fingers all along her skull, paying attention to her temples, and the side of her head that would have hit the crystal. No cracks, no breaks. No pain.
She pressed a hand to her chest, felt the thump-thump-thump of her heart. Hearing it in her temples, it was slightly loud, slightly fast.
“You really are in a different world,” Marian said. Her gaze swept the empty ward, her smile forced. “Well, it looks as if the briefing is up to me.” Her hand reached out for the man’s next to her and was immediately clasped and squeezed.
Another woman who’d found love on Lladrana.
After a deep breath, Marian said, “We have several choices as to where to go. Alexa’s tower guest suite is open. The Chevaliers, of course, prepared a suite in Horseshoe Hall and Jaquar and I are living in the Sorcerers’ guest rooms. We’ll have tea.”
Calli stared at her. “Tea! What about beer? Better yet, whiskey.”
The man snorted. He appeared totally masculine in the long robe. A thought struck Calli.
“Shouldn’t he not understand us?”
Marian flushed, but answered with more grace than Calli might have managed. “We’ve developed a potion that helps with language comprehension. Naturally, we needed a test subject. Jaquar volunteered. He’s the only Lladranan who understands contemporary American usage.”
“You said you were from Boulder. The university, right? What were you, a prof?” Calli asked.
“Close, a grad student on the way to a professorship and a nice tenure track.”
“I might understand the words, but the concept of that last sentence eluded me,” Jaquar said in English. He bowed. “My pleasure to meet you, Lady Callista Torcher.”
“Boy, you catch on fast.” Calli stared at him. His words had a definite lilt, especially when pronouncing her name, but were perfectly understandable.
Since Calli wasn’t wearing a dress, and wasn’t sure how to curtsey anyway, she inclined her torso. Without pain. That notion still amazed her.
“Though drink sounds good, I think it might be most illuminating for Calli to visit the Map Room,” Jaquar said.
“I don’t know—” Calli started.
The little filly danced up to Calli, butted her. I am here and wanted you here and we all wanted you here and you came! Love us.
Another hard shot to the heart. How could she not love this dainty…what? Tentatively she stretched out her hand and stroked the little hor—volaran top to toe.
The dappled gray crowded close. Except for this one, I am the best at talking to humans. So I am yours to partner with. He nickered, then sniffed at her. You are healed and well. Want to fly?
Her hand went to her throat, clogged with turbulent emotions. Would they ever calm down and sort out? What a day! “I…I don’t know how.”
The volaran blinked. She’d spoken English. But it had spoken…what? Pressing her lips together in concentration, she sent her wide-eyed amazement at a flying horse to the volaran, with the image of a lot of horses—a herd of horses, and no volarans.
Horses only? His mental voice held disbelief.
She nodded. Yes. Nibbling her bottom lip, she considered what to do. Just the offer by the gray volaran was a challenge.
Marian and Jaquar stared at her, muttering to each other, faces set in fascinated expressions.
“You’re talking to the volaran?” asked Jaquar.
