Keepers of the Flame

Alexa went to the table and put her hand on the stack of three books. “All of us know the judge.”

“What!”

Alexa’s smile was ironic. “Denver isn’t as large as some of the eastern cities, but it ain’t a small cow-town anymore.”

Elizabeth blinked. “Calli was a rancher.”

“Ayes, and ‘Bert’ had a spread right next to hers.” Alexa’s forehead creased. “The Philberts had lived next to Calli’s family for a couple of generations.”

“Coincidence?” Elizabeth said, then shook her head just as the smaller woman was doing.

“I don’t think so,” Alexa said. Again she shrugged. “We’ll see if the last Exotique knows him, too. A singer,” she murmured. “Probably gotta be a singer. He big into the arts?”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” Alexa repeated.

“Though his new wife is…unusual. Very involved in New Age studies.”

Alexa stared at her thoughtfully, “The owner of the metaphysical store in Denver, Queen of Cups.”

“Yes, how did you know?”

Tapping the books with her finger, Alexa said, “Marian met her.” Alexa’s mouth opened, then her lips pressed together as if guarding secrets. “Read them. There may be other connections among us. We need to know.”

“I will.” Elizabeth scooped up her healthy back bag, slung it over her shoulder. She didn’t want to think about connections. She went into the bedroom and stopped in her tracks as she saw a long-haired white Persian cat batting one of the foil paper chocolate wrappers around and pouncing on it.

“How did he get in here?” Elizabeth said.

The cat sat down and draped her tail around her paws. I AM a she.

Elizabeth plunked onto the bed. A talking cat. She was going mad. Flying horses, talking cats. She rubbed her eyes.

“This is my companion. She is a magical shape-shifting being, come to help us defeat the Dark.”

“Of course she is,” Elizabeth said tiredly, but jolted at the sight of the miniature greyhound cradled in Alexa’s arms. Futilely she scanned the room for the cat.

I am a dog now.

“So I see.” Her shoulders slumped.

The greyhound held out a dainty paw.

Sighing, Elizabeth went over to take it, and Power zinged through her body, removing weariness. She stepped back and released the small pads and claws. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Of course you should be,” Alexa said. “You’re in a different dimension. I can speak from experience that information and surprises come flying at you—sometimes literally—the first few days.” Her lopsided smile charmed. She continued, “I’m down to a surprise every couple of weeks. Marian’s still getting surprised every other day or so, but she’s a scholar and a Circlet and investigates stuff.” She bent down and picked up the wrapper and her scowl was back, along with an accusatory stare. “Chocolate. You have more than the chocolate cake. You have candy.” She held the scrap up to her nose and sniffed, whimpered. “You had chocolate last night.”

Elizabeth had. After she’d put Bri to bed, she’d eaten one, or rather had let it melt in her mouth and slide down her throat, savoring every instant. She clamped her bag close to her side. “Yes, I had one. After we healed—” she still wasn’t comfortable with the word “—fifteen people.”

Alexa blew out a breath. “Guess I can’t blame you.” She widened her eyes and tried to look pitiful. It didn’t work. She was one of the strongest, most competent people Elizabeth had ever met, including her mother and the staff at Denver Major.

When Elizabeth didn’t respond to the ploy, Alexa once again donned the manner of extreme efficiency. Looking down at the dog in her arms, she said, “Is there anything else in the extra wardrobe Elizabeth needs?”

Faucon’s shirts, the dog said slyly. Elizabeth heard her. She ignored the comment and stared at the greyhound. It had an aura. She was getting used to seeing light flare around people, green most especially for the medicas. This aura was different, radiating a glittering rainbow with golden patches that glowed every few seconds.

The greyhound launched herself from Alexa to Elizabeth and Elizabeth caught her. She was light, as if she was more spirit than flesh. Her fur was soft. The dog looked at her with deep brown eyes that drew her in, made her dizzy, had her sinking into her balance.

You and your twin are needed here. It will take both of you to find the answers.

Elizabeth blinked, but still heard the voice in her mind, thought she saw the dog’s muzzle opening and closing as if she uttered words. Stay. I am Sinafinal, a fey-coo-cu. Call on me if you have need, but guard my name from others. Only the Exotiques and their mates know our names.

“Our?” Elizabeth managed.

There was a short bark and another greyhound sat on the bed, tongue lolling and wagging its tail.

My mate, said Sinafinal.

It was male. Slightly larger, it was a dappled brown instead of grey like Sinafinal. It held out a paw.

Cautious, but fascinated, Elizabeth took the paw. Another surge of energy through her, but something about this one felt almost familiar.

I am Tuckerinal. I was once a hamster. I came with Marian from Earth and am her companion.

“Um, salutations.” Again she eased back from the magical being. Fey-coo-cu, magical shape-shifting being. Former hamster. Right.

Hello to you. Too messy here. Bed and wardrobe must go.

“I’ll take care of it,” Alexa said, waved toward the bathroom and dining room beyond.

The dog sniffed at Elizabeth’s bag. Do you have nuts?

“No.”

Yes, you do! Nuts, nuts, nuts! He pawed at the bag, managed to tip her cell phone out.

“No!” Alexa lunged for the bed, but it was tall and wide. She hopped on, but not before Tuckerinal’s quick paws snicked the case of Elizabeth’s cell open and his tongue came out to scoop up the battery and memory chips.

“No!” Elizabeth dropped Sinafinal, but it was too late. She was dazed by what she’d just witnessed, a dog eating electronics.

Tuckerinal burped and grinned at her. More nuts?

“No, Bri has the most toys.” She snapped her mouth shut.

Br-iii. It was an anticipatory lilt in her mind from him. He swiped a long pink tongue over his muzzle. Toys. Nuts.

“Uh-oh,” Alexa said.

“No!” Elizabeth scrabbled at the remnants of the phone, knowing it was useless, but trying to put it together all the same. Tears spurted from her eyes and anger and humiliation washed through her.