Read Online Protector of the Flight by Robin D. Owens - Free Book Online Page B

nasty goo on
his right sleeve. He nodded. “Ayes.” He held up one index finger. “Calli.” Then
he held up the other forefinger. “Thunder.” He linked them.
    Calli
frowned and used wide hand gestures. “Why does Thunder get the best stall?” She
said it loudly and flushed. As if speaking loudly would make someone understand
your language. She lifted her shoulders high and spread her palms up.
    Bastien
just winked and kept walking. Thunder said, Because I partner with you, I am
the most important volaran.
    That
was a little scary. She caught up with Bastien and entered the most luxurious
stables she’d ever seen, but didn’t have time to linger because of the press of
volarans and Chevaliers behind her.
    Babble
and grooming sounds rose throughout the stables as the Marshalls and Chevaliers
spent time with their volarans. Great waves of relief and love blanketed the
big building. No sooner had Calli entered the large stall with Thunder and
Bastien than the strikingly handsome Chevalier she’d seen during her healing
leaned over the stall’s half door.
    “Salut,
Bastien,” he said, looking at her.
    Bastien
snorted. “Salut, Faucon.”
    Smiling,
Faucon said, “Prie introd moi?”
    With
a tilt of his head, Bastien replied. To her surprise, Calli found a wash of
brotherly love coming her way from him. It startled and touched her. How could
he like her so soon?
    Because
Thunder told Alexa and me of your flight and Alexa likes you. Bastien spoke
more in Equine and images—Thunder’s idea of their flight, Alexa with her arm
around Calli—but Calli got it. She turned to the back of the stall and blinked
rapidly. The outpouring of feeling toward her today was nothing she’d ever
experienced. Even when her fans at the rodeo yelled or clapped, it was nothing
compared to this. This warmth sent to her was personal, based more on
who she was than what she was…an Exotique. The Chevalier Exotique.
    There
was a brief conversation, with Bastien smiling but contrary, and the handsome
man moved on with irritation in his eyes and a smile on his lips.
    Then
Bastien and Calli worked together. She had no trouble recognizing the standard
implements hanging from the stall sides, but when she took them down, she found
them a little different. The brushes were made of something she didn’t
recognize—something for the feather-hide of the volarans. There was also a
faint sheen on the fine bristles—oil for the feathers. Furthermore, the tools
tingled in her hands. Magic.
    Grooming
the horse part of Thunder went easily. They paid special attention to the hide
under the wings. Thunder’s mind lightly touched both hers and Bastien’s and he
helped her.
    The
stall was much wider than usual and she found out why when Thunder moved to one
side and stretched out a wing. Calli looked at it nervously. Shouldn’t he be
able to clean them himself?
    Thunder
snorted. You.
    Bastien
took down a couple of fancy brushes and they flared in his hands—more magic.
With exaggerated motions he taught Calli to groom the wings. He started with
the undersides and moved with incredible gentleness from where the wings
attached, outward to the tips of the feathers. Watching closely, Calli wasn’t
sure that the brush actually touched the feathers at all, more like some sort
of aura or field. Or something. She saw, she felt, but she didn’t have
the words to describe.
    Yet
there was a connection here, mind to mind with Thunder. Working with her hands,
the brush, stroking the winged horse, made this dream seem all too real.
Thunder’s muscles flexed under her fingers. The stable was full of
odors—volaran sweat, human sweat and an occasional whiff of something Calli
thought might be volaran shit. Not too smelly for her, but then, horse shit
didn’t bother her much, either.
     
    B y the time
Marrec had sold his kill to an assayer south of Castleton and flown back to the
Castle, he and Dark Lance were exhausted.
    Don’t
like this long day. Dark Lance