LITMIR.BIZ

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you be? I think I’d like to know some exotique words that might excite my wife.”

      Bastien made a protest that included the word Lladranan, and Calli thought he was demanding they speak so he could understand.

      Jaquar whipped out the small bottle of language potion he’d offered Calli, jiggled it. Expressions flowed across Bastien’s face: wariness, unwilling fascination. He held up one finger.

      More discussion—and negotiating. Calli knew horse trading when she heard it, despite the language. Finally Jaquar frowned, pulled out some big coins—they looked like real gold—and handed them to Bastien. Bastien pocketed the money and stuck out his tongue.

      The tiny cork lifted with a little pop. A thread of lavender smoke puffed from the bottle. Bastien’s eyes widened, Alexa stepped closer, and Calli sidled next to Thunder, feeling better with strong, warm hors—volaran flesh at her side.

      Jaquar tipped the bottle and a drop of liquid hit Bastien’s tongue. The cork popped back into the bottle. Bastien swallowed.

      He slid down against the stall side onto the floor, grabbed his head and moaned.

      Calli and Thunder stepped back. She was glad she hadn’t tried the stuff.

      Alexa was suddenly in the stall with them, crouched over Bastien. Calli hadn’t seen her move. Had she jumped? The stall door came nearly to Alexa’s shoulders. Surely not.

      Jaquar looked at Calli and Thunder. “I’m opening the door to retrieve and examine Bastien.”

      Keeping a hand on Thunder, who was only slightly disturbed, Calli nodded. Her mind was with Thunder’s. She could keep him from fear.

      The door opened soundlessly, and Jaquar, Alexa and Marian dragged Bastien out. He tried to move himself.

      With a whoosh, a large hawk swooped into the stables. It lit on Bastien’s head.

      “She says it’s his wild magic that makes him react so,” Alexa said.

      She? Who?

      Thunder stepped forward until he was nearly out of his stall and into the crowded corridor. Feycoocu.

      “Feycoocu?” Calli asked.

      “A magical shape-shifting being,” Marian said absently.

      Oh. Of course.

      The hawk pecked Bastien on the head. He yelped and grabbed at it. It flew away. Thunder followed it with his gaze. I would like to talk to the feycoocu.

      Calli decided she wouldn’t. The day was rapidly becoming overwhelming with the huge input of information.

      Bastien shook his head and stood, helped by the other three. “Gonna lie down,” he said in heavily slurred English. “Bed.”

      “Let’s get you there,” Jaquar said.

      Bastien rubbed his temples. “Horrible headache. When did you say this would wear off?”

      “Always too reckless for your own good,” Alexa scolded.

      He closed his eyes. “Oh, that’s bad. Can be nagged at in two languages. No. I don’t like this.”

      Jaquar said, “I’ll get him back to your suite, Alexa. You two should brief Calli on what she needs to know about the Summoning, the Choosing and Bonding ceremony, and the Snap.”

      None of that sounded good to Calli. But one thing she knew, she wasn’t drinking any potion.

      We made good impression, Dark Lance said smugly.

      Marrec had used the last of his energy and Power to groom every inch of his volaran, murmuring compliments with each stroke. He didn’t want Dark Lance to ever leave again. Now he leaned against his mount, breathing in musky fragrance and thanking the Song that Dark Lance was back.

      All around him other Chevaliers, even Marshalls, lingered, spending more time with their volarans. Especially those who could mind-speak with their mounts, even if only a few images. Especially those who only had one volaran. Those like him.

      He shuddered again at the remembrance of loss. Not just of his best companion, but of his entire future. He did well enough with horses, but didn’t own any, didn’t know if he cared to. He’d have been penniless, with no decent way to support himself, if Dark Lance hadn’t returned. He hadn’t truly faced that fact until the volaran was gone.

      One of the female Chevaliers sobbed, and Marrec had to gulp hard.

      Cheek stings.

      “What!” Marrec straightened, went to Dark Lance’s head.

      Yours.

      “Oh. Yes.” He pulled out the tube Bastien had given him, opened it and dabbed healing cream on his face. He chanted one chorus of a spell and the hurt diminished. That was different, too. Usually it would have taken three verses to repair the light soul-sucker wounds. He rubbed his hand over his cheek. No bumps.

      More Power.

      “Yes.”

      More Power means more status.

      “I hope so.” He cleared his throat and asked what he’d heard whispered in many stalls around him. Will you go away again?

      No. Head Stallion called. I obeyed. Back here now.

      “Thank you,” Marrec repeated.

      We together.

      “Yes.” He wanted to ask why the volarans had left and why they’d returned, hear the answers for himself, but Dark Lance’s mind-tone had been forbidding.

      Rustling came from several stalls. Some of the Chevaliers were going to sleep with their volarans. Because they were afraid the winged horses would fly away again? He was torn, he wanted to stay, for the sheer comfort of Dark Lance’s presence. But if he did, he’d show the volaran he didn’t trust him.

      After one last rub, Marrec left. He had to tally up his zhiv, plan for the future. See how long it would take to accumulate enough to buy a small piece of land in the north.

      The tasty dinner Calli was tucking into seemed real, too. So far the normal things her senses understood—grooming, eating, peeing, made what she was experiencing real. But the strange events outweighed them. Falling through the crystal, waking up healed, moving without pain after a nap, hearing folks speak a different language.

      Flying on a winged horse.

      That had been the best.

      As the plates were whisked away by Alexa’s serving woman, Calli studied her fork.

      “We believe there’s always been sharing between our culture and Lladrana,” Marian said.

      “Yes,” Alexa said, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “There have been Exotiques Summoned before, but not for a century.”

      “I’m working on a Lorebook,” Marian said. “That’s what they call their reference volumes here. Lorebook on building Towers. Lorebook of Community Rules.” She made a face. “Before I started my own work, the Lorebook of Exotiques was a short one-page list.”

      Alexa grunted. When Calli met her eyes, the Marshall held her gaze and said, “Lorebook on Summoning. Lorebook on Monsters.”

      “That’s why I’m here,” Calli said. “To fight monsters.”

      “That’s why we’re all here,” Marian said. “We were Summoned here by the Marshalls, and you by the Marshalls and Chevaliers, because the Song said we could vanquish the invading Dark. The dimensional corridor that links Earth and Lladrana is close. We deduce that there will be six of us Summoned.”

      “So that’s the Summoning. Understand?” Alexa asked.

      “Why me?” Calli asked.

      Marian answered, “The Chevaliers had specifications

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