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
