means?”
“She’s
the crème de la crème of magical warriors in this society,” Marian said.
So
Alexa had landed on her feet. Calli wasn’t surprised. The woman had an air of
complete competence about her. Calli gestured to Lady Hallard. “She doesn’t
wear the same sort of clothes, so she’s a…”
“Very
observant,” Marian said.
Calli
didn’t think so. It was just natural curiosity.
“She’s
a Chevalier,” Alexa said.
Now, that word Calli knew. “French for horseman.”
“Right,”
Marian said. “In this instance it translates to ‘Knight,’ and in this culture,
it means those who ride volarans or, if no volarans are around, horses. Lady
Hallard is the leader of the Chevaliers, with men and women under her.” Marian
gestured to a tall, lean man who wore the same yellow and green as the Lady. At
Marian’s wave, he nodded, unsmiling, to them.
Again
a tinge of wariness slithered up Calli’s spine. Warriors. Knights. She sensed
there was a lot no one was telling her, even these seemingly welcoming women
who said they were from Colorado. What was going on?
Bastien
joggled his still-extended elbow. “Ven?”
“What
could a tour hurt?” asked Alexa.
“You
will certainly confirm that you aren’t in Colorado anymore. And once you see
the volarans—”
“You’ll
know you aren’t even on Earth,” Alexa said cheerfully.
Calli
shuddered.
Marian
touched her shoulder. “It takes some getting used to.”
Ignoring
the banter, Calli swung her legs around, pushed off from the high bed and
jarred to her feet. Bastien caught her hand in his and placed it on his arm,
steadying her balance. There was a faint spurt of warmth from his touch but it
felt unlike the women’s.
She
should have shrieked in pain at the combination of movements. Instead, she felt
almost as good as new. There was still a tenseness about her muscles, a sense
of the fragility of her mended pelvis, something she didn’t think would ever go
away, but she moved as if the fall had been a year ago, not months. That, more
than anything, scared her into believing she was “somewhere else.” She didn’t
want to think about that, though. She cleared her throat. “What did you do to
me?”
“We
healed you,” Alexa said.
Marian
said, “We have magic. All of us have magic, and you do, too. It’s called
Power here, and the culture is an aural one—more based on sound than vision.
They call the Supreme Being ‘the Song,’ and use singing to channel their
magic.”
Yeah.
Right. Calli narrowed her eyes. Marian looked like a woman who would call the
Supreme Being “Goddess.” Calli hadn’t often run into that religion, except the
time when a pagan group held some sort of retreat on a campground near town.
She
licked her lips.
“Want
some water?” Marian asked. She went to an elegantly carved wooden corner table
topped with marble and poured water from a pitcher into a heavy glass goblet,
then brought it to Calli.
Calli
sniffed, it smelled minty.
“Only
water with peppermint,” Marian said.
Calli
didn’t drink.
Alexa
heaved a sigh. “On my word of honor, only minty water.” She touched her baton
sheath.
Marian
nodded. “On my word of honor.”
Alexa
was from Denver and Marian from Boulder. Both city types. Would their words be
good? Calli considered them and decided to trust them. It might just be a
dream, after all.
As
the water slid down her throat, leaving a tang of peppermint on her tongue,
Calli thought it tasted awfully good and was pretty damn wet for a dream. She
finished the glass and handed it to Marian, who put it back on the table.
“First
things first,” Alexa said, starting toward the door. Bastien tucked Calli’s
hand in his elbow and he and Calli followed Alexa.
Alexa
continued. “This is the main healing room in the Keep of the Castle.”
“Keep?”
asked Calli. That didn’t sound too familiar.
“Uh,
the Marshalls’ Headquarters,” Alexa said. They exited into a wide hallway