Robin Owens - Echoes in the Dark

The Singer watched with a careful eye as Jikata stirred water, lit a fire in a fireplace, made wind chimes tinkle and moved dirt in a planter. By the time she was done with the “simple” spells, Jikata was exhausted and would have smelled of sweat except her gown absorbed perspiration. Since the dress released an herbal scent, it was obvious how hard she worked.

The old woman, of course, demonstrated all the tasks serenely and with little effort.

Jikata ate lunch by herself, a light one of fruit and cheese and crackers with a hardboiled egg. Then came the baths, massage and rest. She could almost believe this was a resort—Club Lladrana, a retreat specifically for singers. She’d reluctantly decided differently, let the knowledge that she was in another place incrementally filter through her, and focused on the incredible instruction she’d been getting.

In the afternoon she went with the Singer to a suite of personal rooms above an octagonal tower. The old woman had several suites throughout the compound for various activities—or various levels of visitors. Certainly the Friends in different buildings were of different status.

“These are the rooms where I receive Marshalls who come for a Song Quest,” the Singer said. “I do not use them otherwise because they are very close to the Caverns of Prophecy. Listen and feel.”

Jikata recalled her Summoning, the caves, the sounds, the visions, and didn’t open herself up fully. She’d already learned how to tone down the soundtrack around her, hear selectively. It was a matter of control, like breath control. If she opened herself fully, she’d be overwhelmed by Song, especially in the Singer’s presence. She thought of her Power like the flame of a gas oven, opening a valve and giving the burner more energy.

So now she set her Power on low, listened.

Hollowness under her feet. She knew the sound of stone—worked and raw around her, beneath her. The different, deep chord of the planet itself. Only now, when she heard that strange Song, did she realize that she’d always heard a rhythmic beat quite different, that of Earth.

Whispers. Perhaps even hissing like gas. Dangerous if she were open and defenseless to it.

Jikata! Pay attention! It was the Singer’s voice, in her head. Jikata sucked in a breath. All right, she should have expected that people could speak telepathically, too.

“One moment!” She wouldn’t let the woman rattle her. She wasn’t a tyro in the music business.

But the Singer had that smug smile Jikata was beginning to intensely dislike. Eyes widening, Jikata realized the Singer had spoken to Jikata with her mind, while she’d answered aloud.

The Singer had spoken Lladranan.

Jikata had understood.

She was learning the language through Song and telepathy and hearing it spoken around her. She’d been a fairly quick study before, but nothing like this.

Letting her knees soften, becoming aware of her ki, she let Songs sift into her, or into her awareness and Power.

Her senses slipped down from this chamber to below to the Caverns.

Whispers coalesced into sound, into language—English. A vision formed.

She saw the man in white leather. They were walking along a sandy beach, surf foaming near their feet.

They were talking. No, they were flirting. Warmth tingled through her, then and now. A half smile curved his lips, lightening his serious expression and making him dangerously attractive. There was an easiness between them, as if they had a lot in common. His eyelids lowered over a very male glint, and he took her hand, raised it to his lips.

His mouth on the back of her hand sent frissons through her and she knew that this night they’d make love.

Then he froze, dropped her fingers, reared back, shock on his face.

Followed by utter revulsion. Pain. He shook his head, slapped his hands against his ears.

She stared at him in horror. Worse, she could feel tears backing up in her throat, rising, rising. She had to get away…. She stumbled, blinking frantically to keep tears back. Why hadn’t she learned a spellsong for that?

Jikata! The Singer’s voice.

Suddenly she wasn’t there and then, but here and now. That was Zen, this is Tao, she thought with ironic humor. Her throat still burned.

The Singer was frowning, her face wrinkled into a thousand lines that spoke of age and experience…and some of them of lost love. “What did you see?”

Jikata cleared her throat. “The man from the other night.”

“The night you were Summoned.”

“Yes.”

“Ayes.”

Did the Singer mean her to parrot “Ayes?” Jikata didn’t want to play games. She nodded.

“That is Luthan Vauxveau, a wealthy, Powerful noble of the Chevalier class. He wore Chevalier leathers and is my representative to the rest of Lladrana,” the Singer stated.

Chevalier meant what? Horseman? Knight? One of those who flew on the winged horses?

A knight in white leather. Was that as good as in shining armor? He looked more like a Western knight than a shogun. No, he acted more like her idea of a Western knight, though her ideas of both knights and samurai were formed by the media.

As the Singer crossed to a dark red door, Jikata understood that though the woman had spoken telepathically, she hadn’t seen into Jikata’s mind and that was a blessing. She didn’t want anyone to do that.

The Singer opened the door and gestured Jikata into what looked like a closet. She wasn’t claustrophobic, but it was hardly big enough for three people. Everyone on Lladrana seemed to think personal space was a lot smaller than Jikata believed.

The Singer waved her hand up and down. A moving box.

An elevator.

We descend to the Caverns of Prophecy now.

Jikata hesitated. The Singer lifted her brows. I promise neither will hurt you. Jikata wasn’t accustomed to being patronized in her own mind. She shrugged and got in.

The Singer Sang a scale, starting at the top of her range and descending. The elevator moved gently and silently down. This is the only moving box in Lladrana, and I am the only one who can Sing the songspell.

Then the door opened and they were in the caves. As Jikata watched, mist gathered into wraithlike shapes and solidified….

A piercing high C and the mist dispersed. Middle C and Jikata’s vision blurred and she understood the Singer had curved some sort of force field around them. Handy. From her last time in these caves, Jikata figured that the man in white, Luthan Vauxveau, didn’t know that particular spell. But Jikata had also sensed that the man didn’t know the Caverns. Thinking back, the majority of the Friends didn’t know the caves, either.

The Singer walked with a sure step through dark brown rock tunnels, following a spell light brighter than Jikata had learned to make…yet, in the two days she’d been here. “Time passes the same?” She wanted reassurance.

“Ayes.” The old woman didn’t pause, but as they turned left, Jikata saw a tiny marking on the rock wall at about her eye level. High for the Singer, lower for the rest of the Lladranans. The Lladranans, like most Earth peoples, had grown bigger and taller over generations? The sense of the caverns was ancient. Long smoke smears—from torches?—were even with Jikata’s head.

They jogged right and went through an old door. Jikata didn’t recall going through the door before, but now the Power was stronger. It slid smoothly across her skin with a touch that sent warning throughout her body. Danger, visions ahead!

Seven Mile Peninsula

Blossom dispersed the Distance Magic bubble without a sound and she and Raine spiraled slowly downward to a tall gray keep on the bluff overlooking an equally gray sand beach. This was the estate the Lladranans had offered Raine. The place itself was well-kept and looked old and weathered, but still seemed a good stronghold. It was on the southwest side of a small piece of land thrusting into the ocean called Seven Mile Peninsula.