would have expected Alexa to handle the situation better, to be more flexible. Vital, ebullient Sophie would want her to live, not simply exist in a world temporarily bleak. She would expect Alexa to adapt again as she had so often when her life ruptured. Instead, Alexa followed a song.
The sky was so black as to be eternal, with sparks of light pinpointing lost dreams. The gauzy veil of the Milky Way draped across the bowl of night was so beautiful as to make her soul ache with longing—to be a star, to be the sky, to be a night goddess.
By the time Alexa reached the summit the snowflakes had stopped. Brilliant white peaks encircled her, as if all the starshine in the universe coated them. She lifted her gaze to the stars again and pinpricks of light dazzled her eyes through the tears.
When she blinked them away, she saw the silver net descending, coalescing into a solid silver arch before her. She couldn’t move a muscle. Her in-caught breath was so quick and big that she doubled over, coughing.
The gong sounded, the chimes tinkled a scale. The arch settled.
Her heart thudded fast and she heard her own gasps. She wanted to run, but before she could lift her feet, the beauty of the arch and the stream of music coming from it soothed the ragged edges of her mourning. The sheer relief at having her hurt gone made Alexa stay.
Reality or illusion? If she waited would it fade like all dreams?
Hunched, Alexa saw the shiver of rippling silver in the arch. Silver flowing like mercury, then parted to send a stream of voices lifted in music to her, along with a sparkling rainbow.
Now there were words, heard more in her head and her heart than with her ears, affecting her, feeling real, especially since the chants weren’t songs of exaltation but pleas. “Help us. Come to us. We need you here as no one there ever will.”
Alexa straightened and her throat tightened at the truth. No one needed her here.
The music enveloped, the gong enchanted, the words invited. She could only stand and stare, bemused. It went on and on until she couldn’t feel her feet, and her fingers hooked around the straps of her pack, numbed.
“Come to us.” Warmth and light and sound tugged at her.
She brushed a hand down the silver arch. It was warm to her touch. Planting a hand against it, she pushed. It was solid.
“Come to us.”
The delicate scent of spring blossoms and renewal drew her to the rainbow. Most appealing of all was the small bud of hope that unfurled within her, the hope that she could help. She could find a place of her own where she was valued, where she fit.
At her back was the cold, friendless night.
Alexa stepped through the arch. Rainbow crystals bathed her and sunk into her skin to shimmer like glitter all along her nerves. Her loose hat fell off. Her fine hair lifted straight out from her head. She’d look like a brown dandelion. She threw back her head and laughed at the joyful effervescence. Hope and excitement flowed through her. She flung out her arms and twirled into a dance.
The monster attacked.
Big, twice as big as she. Black hairy bristles all over its body. Long fangs. Claws sliced, shredding her down coat, releasing a flurry of feathers into whistling winds.
Fear jolted her. She screamed but heard no sound. A paw-hand sporting foot-long gleaming claws slashed at her head. She ducked, but its hair brushed her face raw.
Move! How? She had no weight.
She rammed her own arms up against the beast. They stung with shock, but the blow propelled her and the monster apart.
Another clawed swipe. Her pack loosened and vanished. Her gloves whipped off in the wind. Better her stuff than her.
Alexa saw an opening. Escape!
It was a bright hole with rainbow traces. Panting in terror, she kicked with all her might, connected with the monster, ducked, rolled, spun, struggled to the hole and plunged into it feet-first. The last thing she saw was a huge red mouth and teeth dripping yellow spit. She didn’t know if the beast growled in fury or tried to bite her head off. Or both.
The hole sucked her through.
And into a maelstrom of sound. A full orchestra rose in triumphant crescendo.
A flash swept across her vision—a pentacle? She landed hard in the center, on a pavement of multicolored stones. The groan rattling from her teeth echoed.
Solid. Real. The music faded to a background murmur.
She looked up. People in rich robes stared at her. She was among humans. She closed her eyes in gratitude.
When she opened them she was circled by swords.
“This is our savior? The one we risked our lives for? It’s puny. And ugly,” Reynardus said.
Thealia stared in shock at the small being in the pentagram’s center. It was partially feathered, something she’d never seen before. Never anticipated. A female avian.
The chanting, gong and Summoning had gone well up to a point. Thealia had been sure they’d lured their Exotique fighter, caught her—the spirit and Power of her had sung through the connection. They’d lost her in the doorway, but only for a few seconds.
Looking at the entity, so different from the woman she’d anticipated, Thealia felt her blood drain from her face until her lips felt cold and stiff. There must be some way to save the situation.
Reynardus sneered down his nose at her. “This is the ‘fighting woman of the greatest magical Power’ you promised, Swordmarshall Thealia. Those were your words, were they not?”
If he said so, they were. His Power included a perfect memory.
He didn’t wait for an answer. “Just as I thought. Wasted effort. The Power we used to bring this thing here will keep us all drained for days. This is a disaster.” He dropped his sword and turned.
“Stop!” ordered the Medica. She was a healer, not a Marshall, but they listened. “You’ve already broken the link between us, but don’t break the circle. And do you, Knight Lord Swordmarshall Reynardus, think small is weak? What of this?” She opened her hand and blew away a protective sphere. The glowing starlike atomball floated free. She flicked it to Reynardus.
Reflexively his ivory baton appeared in his hand and tipped the ball away, sent it spinning across the circle.
Thealia’s wasn’t the only gasp. A loose atomball, and the whole circle of Marshalls depleted from the Summoning! She froze with horror as it sped to her husband, Partis. He didn’t have the Power to hold it even at full strength. His round face showed only minor strain as he caught the ball on the tip of his staff.
“I believe this is the first Test for the Exotique,” Partis said, “to measure her Power.” He tossed the ball directly to the small female rising to her feet.
Alexa wanted to believe she dreamed, but the physical sensations were all too real for her to ignore. She wondered—
Shit! The little star the strangers played keep-away with came straight at her! She ducked, held out her right hand, and the ball smacked into her palm with stinging force. It burned and sent rivulets of heat pouring through her veins, up her arm. And here she’d followed a song to help. Look where it got her. Somewhere else.
She gritted her teeth and bore the pain from the searing star.
Pretty nice tricks these people had. She had no intention of being “monkey in the middle”—and she knew by the tone of his words that the big guy with broad shoulders considered her something like a monkey. He swaggered with arrogance even standing still.
Holding the light made her dizzy, but when it finally cooled she loosened her fingers and dropped it. A golden walnut clattered to the floor and rolled away with a clatter.
The circle of people stared at her, some with their