Bri seemed unconvinced. Luthan saw a man in the shadows. “Jongler!” he called. The man hesitated, shuffled forward. He bowed briefly, looked at Bri’s hair, glanced away. “Ayes?”
“The Singer has Friends who are medicas?” Luthan asked.
“Of course.” Jongler’s forehead lined. “She has been ill and is of a great age. We have the best medicas in the land here, two came from the Marshalls’ Castle last year.” He bowed, deeper, to Bri. “I should say the best medicas other than yourself, Exotique Medica.” A gleam came to his eyes. “If you would stay with us, I guarantee that you would be well paid.” He turned to Sevair. “And there is always work for a skilled stonemason and architect on the Abbey buildings. The Singer is delicate, and the person of the greatest importance in Lladrana. Her visions are so necessary for the future, please stay—”
But Bri was backing away, hauling Sevair, who was studying the conglomeration of buildings within the compound. “Thank you.” She glanced at Sevair, then planted her feet, raised her chin and stared at Jongler. “I insist you have a medica examine the Exotique…Singer tomorrow morning and send me a report at my tower in Castleton. You do have a crystal orb?”
Jongler was bowing again. “Of course, of course, the very best crystal, bespelled by the great Circlet Sorcerer himself, Bossgond. We also have mirrors, though none of the new, advanced ones. Yet. Still, they will do.”
“Crystal,” Bri said firmly. “You know my address?”
“The ancient Ronteran’s Tower in Castleton.” Jongler breathed the name reverently. “Ronteran was not only a Circlet Sorcerer, he was a Singer’s consort.” Jongler waved. “He designed a few of the buildings.”
“Thought I recognized his ornate style,” Sevair said. Luthan followed his gaze to a row of gargoyles.
There was a belch overhead and the scent of sweet grass—from the roc. A magical creature indeed. The great bird fluttered down. Jongler sent its bloody beak a glance of abject terror, scrambled back, still bowing to Bri. “If you ever want to change venues…” He vanished around a corner.
I flew around the compound, the roc said, eyes glittering a rainbow of dark colors. The new Singer is Powerful, healthy, resting. She is where she must be.
Bri and Sevair matched Luthan’s sigh. Magical creatures were usually cryptic.
Bri stared at Luthan. “Have you had any visions of her?”
He could feel a prophecy coalesce, didn’t want it. “No.” The vision came in a flash anyway. Despite his wishes he’d become expert in deciphering flashes of prophecy. “Only that she and I will meet you on a road, still summer.”
After searching his face, Bri nodded. “Then we’ll leave.” Again she shifted. “This place makes me nervous. I don’t want to be kidnapped.”
Luthan’s jaw flexed before he said, “I did what I had to do.”
Wincing, Bri said, “I didn’t mean—Before my time. Anyway, let’s go home. I’ll contact Calli at her estate and give her the info.” Bri took Sevair’s hand and led him to the roc.
Sevair still scanned the buildings. “Perhaps some time in the future we can visit….”
“Maybe.” Bri mounted the roc, then Sevair settled behind her. With a short, “Bye!” they flew away.
Luthan’s home
Luthan flew, intercepted Alexa and Bastien, Raine and Faucon in the air and led them to his home. A few minutes later they all landed in the yellow cobblestone courtyard between the small manor and the moat.
Alexa and Bastien went inside, but Luthan lingered to talk with Raine and Faucon, neither of whom had dismounted.
He convinced these two that all was well, he’d explain everything to Bastien and Alexa. Raine and Faucon could return to Castleton. He sensed they were glad to go, and didn’t want to spend any more time together. Faucon would grimly escort her to the Castle, flying with Distance Magic, and they wouldn’t need to converse or interact. Their relationship was interesting, and he made a note to tell the Singer—No, he would not be reporting anything of importance to the Singer.
Faucon had the opposite reaction to Exotiques than Luthan. Luthan had never spoken to the man about his innate attraction to Exotiques, could only imagine that Faucon heard a siren’s song of love where Luthan experienced a painful clash of sounds screaming “wrong.” But of the two of them, so far Faucon had been the one most emotionally hurt.
Raine looked back over her shoulder, frowning, as her volaran rose into the sky. Wanting again to be reassured that she wasn’t abandoning her friend, Alexa, or the new Exotique. Luthan sent her mental soothing—All is well, I promise. This is not like your own experience, the Singer will cherish the lady.
And you are an honorable man, Raine replied, her expression easing. She waved.
He waved back, then entered his home, passing his housekeeper, who’d brought brandy and tea to the shabbily masculine sitting room where Bastien and Alexa waited.
Now to convince Alexa not to storm the Singer’s Abbey.
5
Luthan strode in. Bastien lounged in his chair, sipping brandy. It was good to see him there. During the two years they’d lived together, after Luthan had put aside his wild ways, the seat had conformed to Bastien’s butt. That was years ago and Bastien was a hardened warrior now. He was even a Marshall like their father, not a troubled young man with strange and spiking Power that went with his striped black-and-white hair.
He was grinning, watching his bondmate pace the room. Since Alexa was an Exotique and smaller than Lladranans, and the shortest one, too, it took her more paces than it would have anyone else. Luthan noted that Bastien watched her butt. “So what’s so wrong about the Singer Summoning the next Exotique?” Bastien prodded his wife.
She scowled and stopped in front of him, fingering her jade baton, her best magical weapon. That would have made Luthan nervous except Bastien was a good judge of his wife’s moods. Bastien continued, “You just wanted her to bond with you and the rest of the Exotiques first, before you handed her over to the Singer. Raging curiosity, lover.”
Alexa pouted then plopped herself on Bastien’s lap. He wrapped an arm around her, and Luthan felt a stinging surge of envy.
Bastien met Luthan’s eyes, his expression unusually sober. “Fact is, we Marshalls have been working as a group on the complex Summoning spell. We had the chorus harmonies right, but…” He shrugged. “We lost Partis, and his was the voice with the strength and timbre and heart that brought the Exotiques through the Dimensional Corridor.”
Luthan froze as he noticed tears dribbling down Alexa’s cheeks. He didn’t think he’d ever seen the strong woman cry.
Bastien cradled her against his chest, gave her a cloth.
“It was Partis’s voice that drew me,” Alexa said between quiet sobs. “He comforted me for the loss of my friend. He was so strong and so gentle. Such a serene man.”
“An amazing quality in a Marshall. They tend to be fierce and passionate,”
