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
