Echoes in the Dark. Robin D. Owens

them. Luthan couldn’t, he sent what Power he could to soothe their fears. They didn’t acknowledge him.

      He’d made the right decision. He would no longer represent the Singer.

      “Look at her,” the Singer said, pointing at the woman in his arms. “The shadows beneath her eyes, the gray tone to her skin, she is exhausted.”

      Luthan? Bri called. She, Sevair and the roc were just outside the octagonal tower door that led to the caverns. He was connected to her through his bond with his brother, who was pairbonded with Alexa. All the Exotiques except Raine were strongly linked to Lladrana men—and to each other.

      “Summoning is hard on a person, she’ll recover, better she be with her own kind,” he said.

      The Singer’s smile was knife-edged. “My Song has reverberated in her life. She was fated for me, will probably be my successor. That means she has prophetic Power, untapped and untrained. Can’t you sense it?”

      Focusing now on the inner woman and her Power—her great Power—instead of her outer beauty, Luthan studied her. He’d never heard such a complex Song, and as the Singer had pointed out, there was a well of Power within her that appeared to be trapped behind a door just cracked open—recently. She’d seen visions in the caverns, he realized. His gut tightened.

      “You can take her from me—” the Singer’s voice held a mocking note “—but her Power for prophecy has already been unlocked. Will you take the task of training her? Do you forget, then, how it was when you had your own first visions?”

      He suppressed a shudder. He would never forget the visions that had come to him as he’d gone from boy to man. Terrible to experience that alone, to fear for your sanity.

      Luthan, I know you’re nearby! Bri kicked the outside door.

      “So, what will you do, Luthan Vauxveau?” the Singer asked.

      His lips firmed as he considered. If he broke ties with the Singer now, he’d be leaving an Exotique solely in her Power, with no connection to the others from Exotique Terre.

      Or he could let the Singer think he was yet her dupe, come and go freely in the Abbey. So he bowed his head. “Very well.”

      “You’ll explain to the others?” She smiled again.

      He wanted to refuse. “I’ll do my best.” But his loyalty had changed, from the Singer to the…Not the Marshalls, even though Exotique Alexa and his own brother Bastien led them. Not the Chevaliers, he’d outgrown them and their specific concerns.

      He’d serve Lladrana itself, the planet Amee, and the Exotiques. They were the spearhead against the Dark.

      He would double-check all the Singer’s statements. Reluctantly, he transferred the lovely new Exotique to the burly Friend. Chasonette settled on the man’s head and he winced.

      Bri, Luthan said mentally, keeping his tone calm and un-hurried. The Singer has convinced me that the new Exotique should remain here.

      But—

      There are good reasons. The last Friend sidled through the chapter house door. The Singer went to her own door and flung it open for the man holding the Exotique. There was a tinier room that Luthan understood was a box that moved between floors. The Singer stepped in, watching him.

      “She will be taken to a luxurious suite that has been prepared specifically for her,” the Singer said, her smile turning satisfied.

      Luthan didn’t like any of her previous smiles, nor the smug one she sent him now. She lifted a hand. “You have been an excellent representative. Take care of the problem of the other Exotiques. We will talk later.”

      Anger welled again. She’d held great Power—the Power of the Oracle of Lladrana—for too long. And her secrecy had helped separate the factions over the past decades.

      He had much to discuss with the Exotiques and they didn’t totally trust him because he’d been the Singer’s man. He’d have to talk fast.

      If he were clever and lucky enough, he could speak with them one at a time and convince them to let the new one stay with the Singer. Save himself grief. Not a good position for a man who’d once been called the most honorable in Lladrana to be in.

      Luthan opened the door to Bri and Sevair. The healer’s husband had a grip around her biceps and she shifted from foot to foot. She’d cut her brown hair again and it was shorter than most men’s, some standing out in spikes at the top. In style, she was the most outrageous of all the Exotiques, but at least the purple streaks were gone. She wore a medica’s red travel tunic with a white cross.

      The roc had moved to a spacious courtyard within earshot, eyes gleaming and wicked beak slightly open as if ready to pounce.

      Bowing, Luthan addressed them, “Salutations.”

      Bri frowned. Sevair had taken to carrying his stonemason’s hammer as a weapon in a sling on his hip. His fingers touched the handle, but he inclined his head. “Salutations, Luthan.”

      Luthan raised his voice. “Lady roc, if you are hungry, the Singer’s cattle herd is to the northwest.”

      Thank you, Chevalier, the roc said, projecting her thoughts into all their minds. Her tone, too, was mocking and Luthan was getting damned tired of that, but he’d brought this situation upon himself by trusting the Singer and following her orders.

      Using the common link between the Exotiques and their men, Luthan spoke mind to mind. Perhaps we can adjourn to my home estate? It’s not too far from here.

      Sevair frowned. Castle Vauxveau is far northwest.

      Not my father’s home, but my own, Luthan said. It was the house he’d inherited from his mother’s aunt that he’d claimed as soon as he could leave his father. Not that he’d made it a home then. He’d run wild for a couple of years until he realized his younger brother was following in his footsteps.

      Past mistakes, he’d made a couple of bad ones. Then he’d done fine for years, but recently…

      He waved toward the entry station of the Abbey and the volaran landing field beyond. “While the roc is feeding, we can fly to my home. I’m sure the Singer won’t care if you use a couple of her volarans.” Not if it meant getting disruptive people away from her domain.

      Bri’s face went stubborn. She crossed her arms under her breasts and adopted a militant stance that looked more than a little like Alexa’s. Habits were rubbing off. “I’m the Exotique Medica, I want to examine our new addition.” Bri shook her head. “Summoning is tough under any circumstances, but by the Singer—”

      “The most Powerful person in Lladrana,” Luthan ended smoothly. “I saw the lady myself.”

      “Female?” asked Sevair.

      “Ayes, one who looks more like our people than the others.”

      As expected, curiosity lit Bri’s eyes, but she stuck to the topic. “She appeared well, and tuned to Amee?”

      “Ayes. The Singer Summoned her through mirror magic without my knowledge. There were the chimes, and cymbals to approximate the gong.” He raised his hand when Bri opened her mouth to speak. “When I refused to accept that the cymbals would be effective, the Singer drew the sound of the gong to us.” He shook his head. “Amazing.”

      Bri huffed a breath, her stance softened. “We heard it.”

      “I’m sure everyone did.”

      Fingers drumming on her opposite arm, Bri searched his face. “She was well?”

      “I give you my word. She appeared as if she was weary before she arrived, and the Singer immediately sent her to bed to rest. If we petition the Singer now to see her, she may deny us simply because the new Exotique is sleeping.” He paused. “She is meant for the Singer, you know.”

      Bri seemed unconvinced. Luthan saw a man in