Strange Attractors - Kim Falconer [193]
What is looking?
A pair of temple cats emerged from the trees—a jet-black male and a female, black with flecks of red. Drayco went to them and head pressed the male, giving the other a lingering nose touch. Rosette hung back, her mouth open. ‘Who are they, Dray? They look so much like you,’ she whispered.
Come meet them. This is Drack, my sire, and Maudi, my dam.
Rosette’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Your mother and father? Here in the woods all along?’ She knelt in front of them. ‘I am so grateful to you both. I’ve blessed you every day for allowing Drayco into my life. I’ve loved him as fiercely as any ever could, and he me.’
Are you comforted now? Drack asked his mate, his question filtering into Rosette’s mind.
The only answer was the warm purr of the temple cat queen.
‘What’s happened? Where are the others?’ Rosette asked.
All here, all well, the queen said, grooming Drayco’s ruff.
‘But where? I can’t see anyone but you two.’
Yet we are all here just the same. Drack looked around, focusing on things Rosette could not see.
‘A glamour?’
Not that.
‘What then?’
We are in a different vibration, a different alignment.
The temple cats became transparent, as if they were wisps of smoke. Drack’s translucent form headed back into the depths of the woods. The queen followed.
‘Wait. When will we see you again?’
When you are also in alignment with this temple.
Rosette watched them vanish, her hand resting on Drayco’s shoulder. ‘I don’t understand.’
They are satisfied, Maudi.
‘Satisfied?’
That you and I must be.
‘But we’ve been all your life. It’s not like they are just deciding to let us meet—to let me rescue you as a tiny kitten.’
Actually, they are.
‘But…’
‘Rosette?’
She looked over her shoulder; An’ Lawrence was motioning her back.
‘Teg said you’re deaf?’ He mouthed the words with exaggerated expression.
‘It’s just my eardrums. I blew them diving for Passillo.’ Her head lifted to the corridor entrance. ‘I can hear a lot better now.’
‘Who were you talking to?’
She looked at the ruined temple. ‘Just Drayco.’
He gazed at the broken columns, the sun sparkling on the wet stones. He rested his hand on her shoulder. ‘How are you?’
She gave him a brief hug. ‘I’m fine.’ His eyes took in her slender body and she looked away. ‘Not now.’
‘Your child was my blood too, Rosette.’
‘I know. Just, not now.’ They stood beside the weeping willow; Rosette pressed her cheek against the smooth white bark and An’ Lawrence grasped a branch. Both avoided looking at the ruins, the bodies, the mud, the decimation.
The river ran clear. They focused on that. Rosette watched a tangle of twigs race past, bouncing along the rapids. It was caught in an eddy for a moment before ripping free, racing on towards the distant ocean.
‘What about the Lemur raven?’ she asked. ‘Was that really Makee?’
An’ Lawrence clenched his hands. ‘It was.’
‘And?’
‘She died, and Wocca’s vanished.’
‘Her familiar?’ Rosette sighed. ‘And what she’s done? What about that?’
‘It can’t be undone.’ He took Rosette’s hand.
His fingers felt cold and stiff. She flooded them with warmth and watched his face relax.
‘We need to get the wounded out of here,’ he said. ‘Teg’s bad. He must be healed.’
‘I have to find that young witch.’
Shaea, Drayco said.
‘Shaea. I have to track her and get Passillo back.’ She frowned. ‘At least Jarrod is here now, but his backup is wandering somewhere in the corridors with a rogue apprentice—and Passillo is more than Jarrod…’
An’ Lawrence turned to face her. ‘I thought you had the spell?’
‘Not any more.’ She told him what had happened and his face tightened again.
‘Who is Shaea?’
Rosette shook her head. ‘An apprentice of La Makee’s?’
‘Perhaps.’ An’ Lawrence straightened. ‘Get Jarrod and Teg to the portal. Scylla and I’ll be along.’
‘We’ve got Clay here too, and Shane.’
‘What? Where?’
‘Under the bridge, last time I looked.’
He pulled his head back. ‘How?’
‘No idea, but we can’t leave them behind.’
‘You help Teg up the cliff. I’ll bring the bards.’
‘Where’re we going?’
‘Temple Los Loma. We need to