Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “With sixteen people in the throes of sickness needing medical help?”
Calli winced. “I suppose that would have been the equivalent of me riding most of the Castle volarans.” She met Elizabeth’s gaze steadily. “I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry. The townspeople are desperate. None of the medicas in Lladrana have found a cure for this new disease and people are dying.” Calli squinted at Bri, then back at Elizabeth. “You and your twin had a basic similar layer of green in your auras when you came but different upper layers. That’s interesting. But the bond between you two when you arrived wasn’t nearly as strong as it is now.”
Elizabeth didn’t want to hear any of this.
A man dressed in such an understated and tailored style of leathers that proclaimed him wealthy joined them. He bowed, then looked expectantly at Calli.
“This is Faucon Creusse, a nobleman and Chevalier.”
“Chevalier?”
“Knight, like I said.”
Faucon said something, and Calli translated. “An impressive display of Power by the new Exotiques, as usual.”
Before Elizabeth could answer, the discussion between the leaders got heated.
An older woman snapped something, and Calli delivered the words but didn’t match the tone. “Of course we have plenty of space, but we only prepared for one and it’s evident that they will not want to be separated.”
Masif stood solid. “We townspeople have many places where the Exotiques can stay. We paid to have them Summoned. They are our—” he glanced from Elizabeth to Bri, who were both watching him, nodded in acknowledgment and finished “—guests. They should stay in the city.”
“Not tonight,” said the woman.
Calli added, “That’s Lady Knight Swordmarshall Thealia Germain, she’s the head of the Marshalls and runs everything.”
Faucon gave another half bow to Elizabeth then turned and stepped up to the group. “Of course the sisters would prefer to room together. Which is why I requested a suite be prepared in Alyeka’s tower for them.”
“I’d like to keep them in my tower,” Thealia said. The streaks of gold at her temples were so wide they nearly reached the middle of her head. A sign of nobility? Both Faucon’s temples showed swaths of silver.
At that moment a horrendous siren went off.
Elizabeth jumped.
Bri stumbled as the volaran she was leaning against hopped away.
The courtyard was full of people and now every one of them was moving. Some were racing away to a point Elizabeth couldn’t see; the healthy townsfolk had stepped back to crowd the cloisters. Volarans alit in the courtyard and the Chevaliers—those in leathers—jumped on their backs, along with some of the younger people who had a sheath on each hip.
Thealia, the older woman, turned and scrutinized the action like the head of the hospital checking the emergency room in a crisis, and Elizabeth’s stomach tightened as she sensed there was a disaster in progress. “What?”
“I wondered.” Marian, the sorceress, circlet, whatever, reached Calli at the same time as Bri. She looked at Calli, jerked her head to the small white-haired woman who joined them. “Four Summonings. Four times the Dark has attacked very soon after.”
“Connected,” the small woman, Alexa said. Her serious gaze watched the refined chaos and her left hand went to the cylindrical leather sheath at her side.
Bri had linked arms with Elizabeth and she could feel nerves thrumming through her twin.
A slightly shorter, muscular man who moved with grace whirled Alexa up in his arms. “Let’s go!”
“We fight? It’s not our rotation,” Alexa said.
“I have a bad feeling. I don’t want Pascal and Marwey to lead the youngsters. We’ll do that.”
Alexa met Elizabeth’s gaze, then Bri’s. “Later. This is my husband, Bastien, by the way.”
Elizabeth wanted to call them back.
“Must you?” cried Bri.
But Alexa and Bastien merely waved.
“They’ll triumph, as usual,” said Marian.
“Yes,” added Calli.
But both women’s faces showed anxiety.
“How many will we lose?” murmured Calli. “Who will we lose?”
Elizabeth stepped closer to Bri. Again she thought she should offer to do something—what?
Bri said, What in God’s name could we do? We know NOTHING about this place. But they shared flickering along their nerves as if they should spring into action, too.
The activity in the courtyard separated into patterns—those who flew away and those who stayed.
Thealia, the leader, snapped out a few orders and said something to Calli and Marian.
“Another interminable war council in a few minutes,” Calli said.
Bri flinched beside Elizabeth, and Elizabeth finally let herself realize what she’d sensed all along—these people had many reasons for Summoning them, and the primary one was because of a war.
A disease was one thing, a war quite another. She didn’t want to be here.
As if she’d read Elizabeth’s mind—could they do that?—Marian said, “They don’t fly to fight other humans. They fly to fight monsters and save a world. A world we need your help to save, too.”
Worse and worse.
Bri leaned against one of the fancily carved columns of cloister “windows” opening onto the courtyard. The stone was cold and hard and had the unmistakable feel of reality. She much preferred being propped up by a winged horse and tingling with energy, stuff of dreams.
Calli kept up a running commentary and translation.
At that moment the man in the white leathers appeared carrying the cooler they’d left in the huge, circular room. Atop the chest the sacks of potatoes were neatly stacked. Elizabeth’s bag’s strap crossed his chest, and the loop of Bri’s big backpack was over his shoulder. He carried them all easily.
Calli frowned at him. “Luthan, you’re not fighting?”
His jaw clenched and he nodded, showing no emotion. “I have instructions from the Singer to remain at the Castle or in the town for the first two weeks after the Exotiques arrive.” His voice gave nothing away, but a ripple of shock passed through the others.
“She said two would be coming?” asked Marian, seeming to throb with irritation and curiosity.
Luthan said, “She said at least two.”
Silence draped the cloister. He let the statement hang, then bowed—with cooler—to Elizabeth and Bri. “I am Luthan Vauxveau, brother to Bastien, the pairling of Exotique Alyeka. I am also the representative of the Singer, the oracle of Lladrana, to the Marshalls. I sit on their councils to inform her what transpires here.”
“It would be good if she kept us equally informed,” Thealia said.
“The Singer is the Singer,” Luthan