Free Echoes in the Dark by Robin D. Owens

my
prophetic Power will be stronger, come more often?” His voice was rougher than
he wanted. He shrugged to unwork a kink.
    Both
Circlets nodded. Marian stepped forward and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “Take
care, and tell us whatever you want us to know.” She made sure squires tended
their volarans, then took Jaquar’s hand and they strolled toward the lower
courtyard of the Castle.
    Dread
uncurled in Luthan’s gut. His Power was increasing in potency and intensity,
wouldn’t be going away no matter how he neglected it. He’d have to accept the
talent and use it—a lesson he hadn’t wanted to learn.
    He
strode toward the Assayer’s Office and Upper Ward beyond. The Exotiques tended
to avoid the Assayer’s Office with the mounted monster body parts on the walls,
and usually a horror or two laid out on the counter ready to be “processed,”
like for the stupid hat that Bastien had designed and was now all the rage.
    Faucon
Creusse intercepted Luthan. He suppressed a sigh. The man was frowning,
radiating irritation. Faucon was one of Luthan’s friends with whom he hadn’t
been completely honest while he’d worked with the Singer. Luthan stopped and
bowed elegantly, dropping his eyes, a bow requesting forgiveness that Faucon
would understand. “I am no longer the Singer’s Representative, I am sorry for
any slights when I was under her hand.”
    “Forgotten,”
Faucon said on an exhalation.
    Luthan
straightened, met his friend’s gaze. “She didn’t inform me of what she knew or
guessed about the Seamasters secret Summoning of Raine. Had she done so, I
would have acted.”
    “We
all would have acted.” Faucon shifted his feet.
    “How
is Raine? She seemed tense last night. The farthest volaran flight for her yet,
right? Not much to see of Lladrana in the dark.”
    Faucon
hunched a shoulder. “She’s always tense around me.”
    The
man didn’t want to acknowledge the attraction between them. Luthan didn’t blame
him. Loving an Exotique was dangerous to the heart. Yet Luthan didn’t need a
vision to tell Faucon and Raine belonged together. That was obvious to anyone
with a little Power. Luthan had once prophesied that Faucon would have a love
worthy of a bondmate—that blood ritual that tied people together for life and
death—and Raine was Faucon’s woman.
    Perhaps
Faucon was ignoring the growing link between them because once Raine finished
her task of building the Ship, her Snap would likely come and she would
probably decide to return to Earth. Luthan hesitated, then decided not to
meddle. Restraint from “fixing” others’ lives was all too rare, especially by
and for the Exotiques. Everyone wanted them here, wanted those who had not
committed to Lladrana to stay.
    Luthan,
himself, would feel much better if Raine captained the Ship on the trip to the
Dark’s Nest, and didn’t vanish back to Exotique Terre.
    “Aren’t
you going to ask how the Ship progresses?” Faucon said.
    “The
Ship will progress as it needs to, in the amount of time it takes,” Luthan
replied and frowned. He could understand how long it took for others to accept
their gifts and their tasks, but had been impatient with himself. But he wasn’t
the only one. Those Exotiques were trying to push and fix again. He wondered
what sort of culture they came from that they hurried so. Or perhaps it was the
hard circumstances looming over them all. That could agitate anyone.
    Faucon
grunted. “You’re a better man than I am, thinking about Raine instead of the
Ship. Or thinking about her first.”
    “I’m
not as involved with her as much as you.”
    “I’m
not involved with her at all!”
    “But
you need to be,” Luthan said, his turn to prod. “You are the closest thing to a
Seamaster that she can trust. If she needs advice, you must provide it.”
    “Suppose
so,” Faucon said grumpily. “I came to ask of the new Exotique. Will she stay
for the battle with the Dark?”
    “I
don’t think she has any choice,”