jade in her fingers hummed and drew a faint chime from the jewel-toned rainbow crystals.
While Alexa’s mind floated, Thealia dismissed the others and only the Marshalls and Marwey were left to stare at her. Then Thealia was holding a purple cloak. It looked brand new. Embroidered on the left side was an impossible-looking fuchsia flower. Alexa touched a finger to the silken threads and stroked it, letting the texture of something beautiful soak into her—easing the rough edges of the night.
“Exotique,” Marwey said.
Alexa understood. The flower was exotique. She was called “exotique.” She didn’t have enough energy to shrug.
The huge man appeared before Alexa’s narrow range of vision. He held a belt with a tube-sheath that was green with silver traced around in an intricate, leafy pattern.
He bobbed his head, and with extremely deliberate motions, set the belt around Alexa’s waist, buckled it, then faded back beyond Alexa’s sight.
Thealia settled the cape on Alexa’s shoulders and fastened the clasp. The cloak dragged on the ground. Sighing, Alexa tucked the baton in its sheath and gathered the excess material in her hands.
Marwey put the strap of Alexa’s fanny pack over her arm, then grasped Alexa’s elbow. “Ven, Alyeka.” Marwey tugged.
They went slowly from the room. Someone opened the door and the chill of a humid night hit Alexa. Mist curled over her skin and brought with it an unpleasant odor of sulphur.
The walk seemed endless, up a curving ramp or two, down long corridors, then finally Alexa found herself dragging up an interminable set of narrow, twisting stairs.
She paid no attention to the rooms or furnishings around her, except to get the impression of great age and great wealth. At the top of the stairs was a half-circle room with a door straight ahead that had a little table next to it, and a door to the right. Evidently they were in a large tower.
The anteroom was done in purple. A thick rug of deep plum welcomed her feet. The pointed wooden door gleamed with a maroon-purple grain. On the purple-tiled tabletop was a purple fur muff to match her cloak. Alexa thought that purple would soon be her least favorite color.
Marwey urged her to the door. A golden plaque caught Alexa’s attention enough for her to stare and blink. Diamond shaped, it had an inlay of purple enamel, then an exquisite representation of her jade baton—down to a tiny tube holding mercury at the top and bottom of the staff. Magic could certainly work beautiful—and quick—wonders.
There was also a set of wires on the door, looking like half an egg slicer. Alexa tilted her head, but the fog of exhaustion in her brain didn’t let her even begin to figure this one out. Marwey ran a thumbnail over the strings, producing a melodious run of notes. She waited a bit, then opened the latch. Ah, a doorbell—door-sounder—doorstrings—Alexa gave up.
She took the muff and they went through the door and faced another curving wall. This room was a narrow hall, rounding to the right and left out of sight. Marwey tugged Alexa left and through another door to the bedroom. The chamber was large and wedge-shaped, with a curving outer wall. Alexa calculated that it was slightly more than the left half of the remaining tower. Long, dark windows in the round wall reflected an elegant, richly provisioned room. All Alexa cared about was that it held a nice, big bed. Marwey helped her off with her clothes and into the bed. As she sank against soft pillows Alexa watched the girl play with the zipper of her little fanny pack a few times, then the teenager whistled away the light. The door closed softly behind her.
Alexa shivered as cold sheets and a fluffy mattress embraced her—nothing like her own warm waterbed. “Warm,” she muttered. Since she was alone, she allowed herself to whimper. “Warm.” To her surprise a cocoon of luscious heat enveloped her. The orchestral music that played in the background of her mind surged and whirled her into darkness.
As soon as the new Exotique was taken up to her bed and the Marshalls were alone in the Temple, they relaxed…to an extent. The Summoning had been more surprising than any had expected.
Thealia ran her gaze over the rest of the Marshalls. They’d all seen each other bloody, covered in dirt, guts and inhuman matter, and other disgusting substances. Only the most innately elegant or the most prideful sat with spine straight.
She relaxed enough to lean against the tapestry-covered wall and let out a soft sigh. Partis sat beside her and took her hand, playing with her fingers. “It’s been a very long night. It went well,” Thealia said. The room amplified her words so all could hear.
“Very well. All things considering,” Partis said.
Everyone murmured agreement.
“I believe the Song was right,” Faith, the Loremarshall, said. “The Exotique will discover the key to raising new fenceposts to protect our land.”
Faith was the most prescient of them all. They stared at her, and the mood lifted.
Thealia said, “I will remind you that it isn’t often we can afford a pool of protection. The fight will start in earnest soon. I urge all of you to make use of it.” Her gaze was drawn to the dark pool reflecting slices of light from the crystals embedded in the rafters and the wheel chandeliers.
It was mesmerizing.
Some grimaced. Mace rose. “My Shield and I will consider it.” He led his lady from the room. Others stood and slowly gathered their belongings. It had been a long night of great effort, and though they’d succeeded in their task, it was evident to all that a new and strange era had begun.
Thealia started to rise too, but Partis pressed his hand to her knee and she subsided. “We will stay and take the plunge,” he said.
The others nodded to Thealia and her Shield as they filed out.
Thealia eyed the pool. She didn’t want to feel every hurt burned away, though her body would become stronger and more protected where her aches had been. But it was the right thing to do.
Partis was already out of his surcoat and chain mail before she unbuttoned her own robe at the shoulders.
“I wonder if the babe will heal now,” Partis murmured in his musical voice, helping her discard her armor.
“We’ll find out as she grows. All we knew was that she wasn’t quite right in the head—nor were her Power paths clear and functional.”
Partis touched the gold streaks in Thealia’s hair. “Our granddaughter is a black-and-white, either graced with great wild Power or fragmented beyond repair. Still, it wasn’t pleasant seeing the Medica drop her in the pool.”
“The babe was the best candidate for the Test.”
“It was very clever of you to find a Test of the Exotique’s compassion that might also heal our granddaughter.” He rubbed her shoulders, and Thealia let out a whimper of pleasure.
“If baby Nyja—If the Exotique hadn’t saved her, her fate would have been better than living a life with flawed brain and Power,” she said.
“Yes, dear. You don’t have to convince me. It will be interesting to see the results.”
They were naked now and standing at the pool. Partis eyed it with distaste, thinking about the pain to come. Thealia scrutinized her husband for bruises and scratches. He did the same to her. Neither of them wanted the other to bear the imminent agony.
“This isn’t going to be easy,” he said.
“No.”
His lips curved into the charming smile that had won her heart so many years ago. He linked his fingers with hers. “So we do it together.”
The minute Alexa woke the next morning, music filled her head. This time it was quiet, susurrant, again like a movie score, barely noticed.
So she knew she wasn’t in Colorado. Probably not even on Earth. More than the resurgence of mind-music, the basic scents