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Protector of the Flight
Protector of the Flight
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Protector of the Flight

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“Did he speak telepathically to you?” Marian said at the same time.

Calli rolled her eyes. “Shit, you two.”

Marian chuckled. “Yes, we’re endlessly interested in everything. I saw you nod. A nod means agreement, just like in the States.”

Practicality surfaced. Calli’d never ridden a strange horse without playing games on the ground with it first. She sent an image of her favorite game, followed by Play first?

Snorting, the volaran said, I am not a horse. Volarans are much superior. He paused and she realized that he wasn’t speaking English or—or that other language. He was speaking horse-volaran-equine.

And she was understanding, in her mind and by watching him—eyes, ears, mouth and feet.

We play games in the air.

Well, that let her out. Volaran or not, she’d bet that, like horses, these equines tested their leaders. She may have been welcomed by them, felt that wave of love, but that didn’t mean they’d automatically elect her leader.

My back is broad and I will be careful. Just a short ride…I will use no distance magic.

I will be in charge, Calli replied, lifting her chin, getting the hang of the talking. She felt she spoke horse better than any other language.

Of course. Was there a hint of slyness in that reply, in the dapple’s eyes?

It didn’t matter. Anything other than a flying horse, Calli could have resisted. But if this was a dream, she didn’t want to wake before she’d flown on a winged horse.

Me, too. Me, too. Me! The filly gamboled about. Tossed her head, then blew out a little breath and continued, My Dam will fly with me. We will all fly together.

The gray’s back rippled and a saddle appeared on it. Calli went up and checked the tack. It was harsher on horse—volaran—than the bits and bridles and saddle she usually used.

That would change if she stayed…if she awoke and it wasn’t a dream.

No, said the mare to her filly. Thunder and the Lady will fly high and fast and far. We will stay here.

The filly huffed and circled the courtyard.

Smiling, Calli unsaddled and unbridled the volaran, leaving the equipment on the ground. He watched her with an astonished gaze. So did the Circlets. Marian’s mouth had fallen open. Calli sensed that both she and her husband rode horses and flew volarans.

She’d like a hackamore, but if she was going to impress the stallion, she’d go all the way bareback. Hey, if it was a dream, all she’d do was wake up if she fell, and if it wasn’t, well, maybe her life wasn’t too much to pay for a ride on a flying horse.

Don’t you humans need those things? The stallion still looked at the saddle.

Trying to talk in her head and aloud, Calli said. “I didn’t like the tack I saw.”

“Oh,” Marian said.

Calli smiled. “Ever hear of natural horsemanship?”

Marian relaxed and smiled, too. “Of course. I saw a few demonstrations.” Her face clouded. “I never learned and my mother’s polo ponies—” She stopped.

“Polo.” Calli huffed a breath. Were they from different backgrounds or what?

With a determined nod, Marian strode to face the gray stallion. “Listen here.” She gestured to Calli. “This is your Exotique. If you lose her, you will have to explain to the Chevaliers why. And those who brought her here will reconsider Summoning someone else if you have no respect for her.”

Calli could have told Marian that she was wasting her breath. The volaran was paying more attention to Calli stroking his ears than Marian’s words. A shadow in his mind did hint at a concern of losing her and explaining that to the alphas in Volaran Valley.

As she continued caressing his ears, he relaxed, just as the horses she knew did, lowering his head.

Smiling, she relaxed, too, relieved. She did have knowledge that could apply to volarans. She ran her hand from neck to shoulder, shoulder to withers and barrel, again and again. His coat was silkier, softer than horsehair, as if each individual piece was not a hair strand but a minute feather. He stood quiet under her hands, yet pleasure emanated from him. Occasionally she sensed a “nudge” to rub or scratch him in a particular spot.

Cautiously, she set her hand on the upper edge of the muscular ridge where his wings attached to his body, marveling again at them—their softness, the coloring that complemented his coat. All the equine cues she’d read showed respect. With a deep breath and a prayer in her heart, she set one hand in the dark mane, the other in the small of his back and hauled herself up—nearly flew onto him. Something inside her sprang open, imbuing her with energy and grace and…and…magic?

She rubbed up his neck, all the while realizing that he was extraordinary, felt more than horselike. His wings fluttered against the back of her calves, causing an amazing feeling to well up inside her. As if here, on the back of this volaran, was her true destiny. For a moment she just sat, eyes closed. He didn’t smell horselike, but sweet and musky, like some crumbling amber she’d once had.

Interesting, he said. The neck muscles under her hand moved and she opened her eyes to see him staring at her. He whinnied. You feel good, you have great Power. Let’s go. He lifted his wings.

Calli’s stomach dipped. One moment. She scanned the area. The courtyard was huge.

Now she’d see if he’d obey her. Back for a running start.

Don’t need a running start.

Again she stilled, let the beginning of her day rerun in her head, how she’d risen with pain, negotiated the steps, called for her horse…the emptiness she’d felt for months at not riding. Then she settled back, brought her legs forward slightly, squeezed and released. Back.

The volaran backed, she even turned him so they had all the courtyard ahead of them. Her mind seemed to touch his and it was almost as if they were one creature and not two. He was calm and a little amused.

“Good going!” Marian called. She and Jaquar had stayed near the door of the big square building with the large round corner towers. All along the courtyard people showed up in the walks to watch. Calli thought she saw money changing hands. She chuckled. Maybe not too different from Ea—Colorado after all. For a dream.

Finally, they stopped in the shadow of the huge white round temple behind them. At the opposite end of the courtyard was a three-story building with two small towers.

Another big breath. Soon she’d find out just how well she’d healed. The courtyard was paved with large gray stones. She leaned forward, whispering in the volaran’s ear and in its mind. Ready to run?

Yes.

Go!

He ran. Elation flooded her. No pain! More, the volaran’s gait was smooth, his body powerful under her. Strength and vitality flowed from hindquarters to neck, sifting down to his wingtips. She felt his energy mingling with her new extra sense. Before they were halfway down the courtyard his wings lifted, caught the air and they were soaring!

Calli gasped as they cleared the buildings, gasped again as she saw an additional courtyard beyond the one that held the temple. They flew high, angling toward the sun, and the moment was so huge, so incredible that it sank into her forever like she’d been gilded with sunlight.

Once again that day she lived in a moment of exquisite awareness, of total brilliance. The blue bowl of the sky dusted with clouds whirled around her and her mount. The entire universe centered around her and every wonderful thing in it focused on her.

She was life.

She was Power.

She flew.

Song filled her ears—wispy airs from the clouds, a hollow gonglike reverberation pulsing from the sky, a small, erratic Song radiating from the eart—planet below.

The planet is named Amee, said the volaran.

His Song enveloped them, laughing, exhilarated. He swept through a cloud and tiny particles shivered over her skin and cooled her.

She laughed to herself.

I am Gray-Clouds-That-May-Rain-Or-Thunder-Or-Clear.

The English name sounded awkward in her head—the name was more than an image, it was active motion. A sky billowing with gray clouds of infinite possibilities which might change any moment. A future of many paths hung on that name. She’d call him Thunder.

“Callista” meant “most beautiful” and until now she’d never felt she’d lived up to that name.

But now, now, as they rode through the sunlight and shadow, wind tearing her hair back from her face, caressing her body, atop the volaran, Calli was the most beautiful woman in two worlds.

Finally she looked down and her gut clenched. She held tight to Thunder’s mane. The world below was green and fertile. And a long, long, long way down. What had possessed her to fly without tack? Yes, she, a wingless human did need something familiar to hang on to, even if it wasn’t as horse-friendly as it should have been.

She could almost hear herself go splat. Then she saw what she was flying over. Rolling green land. Fields. Woods. Manor houses. Villages. She thought a couple of towers and spires on the horizon to her left might be a small city. Land like this on Earth would be crowded with people.

Scents rose to her—rich and summer and humid, lush with verdant plant life. Not Colorado.

Was she dreaming? Or had she really fallen through that crystal to another world and was finally living the life always destined for her?

Too much. Far too many exotic, exciting experiences today. She nudged Thunder to circle and return to the Castle. He ignored her.

Panic twinged each nerve, though she kept an easy, calm and confident posture.

Thunder chuckled in her mind and she realized that flying on a volaran would take different skills. She was used to thinking through any demonstration of horse fears, staying positive. She wasn’t accustomed to some damn horse rustling around in her mind. With a couple of breaths, she settled herself completely. She was sure that she was the alpha in this situation, despite what Thunder thought.

With her legs, hands and mind, she concentrated on the pressure points of the horse/volaran’s body. Horses were prey animals, always aware of their surroundings. Calli didn’t sense that volarans here were as preyed upon as horses had been on Earth, but they would have prey instincts.

Humans were predators. She didn’t want to remind Thunder of that, she just wanted him to accept her as the alpha of the herd. The herd of two here in the sky. She kept her own concerns tightly reined. He might sense them, but he’d also see that she did not allow them to control her.

She reached out and touched the wing ridge of the side she wanted to turn.

He dipped.

She hung on and asked again for a turn.

He glanced back, lowered his head, licked his lips and made a wonderful, sweeping turn.

“Yee-ha!” she shouted into the blue, rubbing Thunder’s neck.

His mind melded with hers. You are most beautiful.

Soon a rocky promontory was in sight, and upon it, the Castle. She sighed, definitely ready to return. Calli noted how big the Castle was, larger than she’d thought. Frowning, she understood that there must be even more to it than the two courtyards she’d seen. On the land below it—what direction?—was a large town.

South of the Castle is Castleton.

Castleton, huh? Well, that made sense. And if Castleton was south, that meant they were flying east toward the Castle and had been flying west to the…great lake? Sea? Ocean?

The Circlets have Towers on the islands off the west coast of Lladrana in the Sea of Brisay.

Thunder seemed eager to please, now. His mind was completely unruffled, and completely accepting of her.

Calli tried more telepathy. I saw no one else flying.

The horrors invade from the north. Thunder tensed under her. He flew faster, tucked his legs close to his body. A prey animal making himself a smaller target. Whatever these horrors were, Calli got the idea that they ate volarans. Predators.

You will see, Thunder said. He quivered and his thoughts disintegrated into images and shapes and tones she couldn’t understand. True equinespeak that she could feel but not completely understand.

The Castle loomed bigger and bigger, with a wall about three stories high and the square building with four towers rising an extra two.

Awesome.

Most of it was gray stone, though part was of yellow, and she could discern the round white building of the great Temple.

There is a Landing Field. Thunder’s ears flicked. It was more a question than statement.

We will land from where we took off. I’m sure Marian and Jaquar are waiting for us. Now she thought of them, she could feel them, as if they’d connected with her some way. During the healing? Probably. Wouldn’t folks who healed you with magic from the inside be connected with you afterward? Made sense. She might have a lot of bonds already, then. Huh.

More than feeling them, she could hear Songs. An interesting, intricate Song with echoes of Earth rhythms from Marian, an equally complicated, more masculine bass and brass from Jaquar. And a powerful twining Song greater-than-its-parts from them as a couple.

She saw them in the courtyard, sitting and observing her, leaning together. A brief spurt of envy held her still.

Thunder zoomed down, turned. The wind caught his wings and he tipped sideways. Calli’s fingers slipped from his mane and she fell right off him. She screamed and plummeted. A whisk of air surrounded her, spun her like she was trapped in a gentle whirlwind, then she was righted and set onto her feet before Marian and Jaquar.

Marian’s eyes were huge, her hands to her throat. Jaquar’s right arm was outstretched. Calli stared at it. It had been he, the Sorcerer, who’d caught her and brought her down safely.

Magic.

She really needed that whiskey.

Marrec could hardly believe Dark Lance was back and they were flying to battle, just as they had for many years. He swallowed hard. The cool wind stung his eyes. He blinked and looked around him, awed by the sight of all the Marshalls and Chevaliers streaming to the battlefield at the same time. Bright colors, shining armor and gleaming volaran coats flowed like banners against the summer blue sky.

Usually there’d be fighters caught elsewhere when the alarm rang, who’d arrive later, but all the Chevaliers of the Castle had been near the Keep, or lounging in Temple Ward, to glimpse the new Exotique.

So they flew together and Marrec’s heart lifted. The Castle alarm was connected to the magical fence posts along the north border of Lladrana. When it rang, the pattern of the notes and the stridency alerted them to the place where the monsters invaded and the number of horrors to expect. Experience had taught him to understand the alarm. They flew to the northeast.

As he watched, opaque bubbles formed around volarans and riders, masking the bold heraldic colors and gleam of mail. “Distance magic,” spells that increased the distance a volaran flew with every beat of its wings. Warriors could fly immense distances and engage the enemy near the border instead of dealing with monsters deep in Lladrana.

Need Power for Distance Spell, said Dark Lance.

5

Marrec sent Power to his volaran. Together they curved the distance-magic spell around them. With every beat of wings, leagues were covered.

Dark Lance whinnied in surprise. More Power.

It was his first real mental communication since he’d returned.

Yes, Marrec said. I linked with others, with the Marshalls and stronger Chevaliers to heal the new Exotique. The pathways in my mind that channel Power opened more.