Heart Duel (32 page)

^“
What are the conditions that will save my HeartMate?”
T'Holly demanded.

“If the one functioning lifepod on the Ship is activated and maintained by the Captain—”

“Elder, I beg you,” T'Holly turned to the former thief, “anything—”

“Ship, continue with prognosis despite any human talk,” Lark said impatiently.

Ship made a little noise, then started again. “A kidney must be donated by a close relative to replace her poisoned one, to invigorate and cleanse her body—”

“Anything, anything of mine,” T'Holly said.

Holm knew his father wasn't thinking. He'd gone to his HeartMate and held her hand in both of his.

“—a kidney from one of her sons would do,” Ship said.

“Mine,” Holm said, beginning to strip.

Tinne slapped Holm's fingers from the tab groove of his shirt. “You're Heir. If D'Holly dies, if—” He looked at T'Holly and back to Holm. “Use my kidney!”

“A replacement for the donated organ can be grown in Our vats, then restored to the donor,” Ship pointed out. “We await your decision.”

Holm pushed his younger brother aside. “I'll donate. I'm not letting you run around dueling with only one kidney. And we are feuding, aren't we?” he asked T'Holly.

T'Holly's blazing eyes and wolf grin were back. “Damn right.”

“It is not necessary—” began Ailim Elder, the judge.

T'Holly's mouth hardened. “I've had no apologies from the Hawthorns, no offer of reparation, no indication they care that they tore the heart from my Family. We fight.”

Ailim's expression turned grim. She gave a slight nod, obviously unwilling to broach the subject again.

T'Holly swept them all with a simmering gaze. “Tinne's right, Holm is heir and next in line to be T'Holly. He cannot be risked any more than necessary. My SecondSon, Tinne, will donate a kidney for my HeartMate. The Ship will heal my HeartMate and grow a new kidney to replace Tinne's as soon as possible.” T'Holly's gaze rested on Holm, still heavy with anger. “As for you, you will marry immediately and begin engendering sons.”

Tinne snorted behind Holm.

Holm smiled his father's own feral smile back at T'Holly. “‘Courting and feuding take all a man's time,'” he quoted an old saying. “Which would you rather I do?”

“Fight,” his father bit off.

“Yes.” Holm nodded, hoping, somehow, that he'd be able to win his own HeartMate, and soon. She looked very distant now. “Ship, give me a scry line to T'Ash.”

“Ship runs on nanotech, not Flair,” Ship's voice said primly.

“I know you can create a visual and audio communication; please do so,” Holm said, not taking his eyes from Lark.

“Very well,” Ship acknowledged.

A few seconds later T'Ash looked out of a holo. He sat at his ResidenceDen desk, a writetool in hand. “Holm,” he said.

Holm grinned again. “We fight. I need a protection amulet for my brother.”

T'Ash raised heavy black brows. His swarthy face showed no surprise. “I suggest he wear the main-gauche I made for that purpose.”

Tinne gasped in irritation. “You did what?”

“I want something more,” Holm said. “Something that will automatically teleport him to a HealingHall if injured. He'll be fighting without a kidney.”

T'Ash looked past them, as if studying Sick Bay. He pushed away papyrus covering his desk. “I see. A feud with the Hawthorns. Do you want my arm in alliance?”

“You've offered that before,” T'Holly said. “My answer is the same. No. Only amulets, one for both my sons.”

T'Ash inclined his head. “It will be done.”

Holly knew his friend would work his body and Flair into exhaustion to make them quickly.

T'Ash continued. “I can create the amulets within six septhours of receiving an object for the pendant. I have the chains and will work the spells into them, but I suggest you use gemstones from the Family vault as focusing pendants. I know the Holly jewels. There is a cylindrical stone of Earth hematite that resonates to Tinne. Send that one to me for him. I will use all my skill, but for additional protection and the 'port spells, you should also give it to D'Alder to bespell.”

“I agree,” T'Holly said.

A brief smile flickered across T'Ash's lips. “All of you, carry your main gauches I crafted. Tinne's isn't the only one with a protection spell.” That brought a short laugh from T'Holly, who stroked his HeartMate's hand.

“As for T'Holly . . . my HeartMate, Danith”—T'Ash's smile widened in love—“has been working with a hunting cat, a gift for you, T'Holly.”

“My thanks. A hunting cat is always useful in a fight.”

T'Ash studied Holm. “The jewel I'd choose for your amulet is the baroque pearl. You know the one I mean.”

Holm scowled, a flush heated his neck. “Not the pink one.”

T'Ash's eyes lit in unholy amusement. “That's right, the thumb-length baroque pastel-
pink
pearl. I'll use it for your amulet. We should talk.”

The pearl had always fascinated Holm. “I'm not wearing a pink pearl as an amulet when I'm fighting.”

“Yes, you are,” T'Holly commanded.

“Yes, you are,” Tinne chortled.

“I'm sure it won't compromise your virility.” Lark looked coolly at him, lips thinned.

Holm sighed.

Holm rarely brooded, but when he did, he came to this
dungeon chamber. It was a perfect place to brood, able to depress even the most exuberant spirits. Like many rooms in T'Holly Residence, despite the brightest light, cleansing spells and technology, it had a tendency to remain dark and damp, with a Celtan lichen-moss growing from the floor up the walls and imparting a pungent odor. But this room always stayed that way. It had no windows, only spell-lighting.

He crossed to a tank of water on the far wall. Though the water was perfectly calibrated to suit the inhabitants, and one in particular, it looked murky. Algae floated on the top. Sea fronds waved muddy brown streamers, and in the layer of sediment sat an oyster as big as his forearm.

It was his oyster.

He'd been responsible for it since he'd been a small boy, when he'd been fascinated with its crusty shell, that it could project its basic needs telepathically, and even recognize him. Its origins weren't noted in the Holly histories—the Family had always been impatient and it had been several generations before an adopted son recorded the vanishing stories of their early years on Celta—but legend had it that the oyster had originated on the Ship,
Arianrod's Wheel
.

Holm called it “Clam.” When young, the thing that had engrossed Holm the most was the few times he'd seen Clam completely open, and inside sat a ravishing, incongruously petal-pink pearl. Eventually, Clam had made it clear that the pearl was too large an impediment and should be removed. So Holm had done it and kept the gem.

Like Clam, the pearl had been unique: pink and as long as his thumb and twice as wide. T'Ash had seen the jewel, admired it, confirmed its vast value.

“It's all your fault,” Holm said to Clam.

T'Holly rested upstairs after submitting to a sleep spell, new hope in his heart. Tinne had remained at
Nuada's Sword,
lounging in the wondrous Greensward, taking it easy after the removal of his kidney. A new one was budding in a vat that looked remarkably like this tank.

Holm sensed a slow, chill regard emanating from Clam. “Maybe I should return you to the Ship. You might like it better there. It might be more like the home you originally knew,” he stated. “It's because of you I have to wear that pearl. It was
your
pearl. Do you know what sort of trouble that pearl is going to get me into?”

The oyster's lifeforce quickened, and it used its jetspray to move closer to the glass where Holm stood.

“But you can redeem yourself,” Holm said. “I haven't checked lately, but it's been years since I took that last pearl from you. Maybe you have a new one that I could use in the amulet instead. White. Or black. Black would be good. And shaped better.” Holm thought a moment and grinned. “A heart-shaped pearl would be fabulous. I could wear it, then later give it to my Bélla as a gift—I wouldn't even mind a pink heart. Do you have a pearl?” He rapped his knuckle on the glass.

Clam settled. Cold watery consideration enveloped it. Slowly a crack appeared in its shell.

T'Ash comes,
T'Holly Residence stated.
I informed him you were here, and reminded him of the way.

“Thank you,” Holm muttered, watching with awe as Clam's shell yawned wider and wider.

By the time it finally opened, T'Ash stood beside Holm.

“Pink again,” Holm choked.

“I'd call it more of a dark coral color. That oyster has a remarkable facility for making pearls that look like body parts,” T'Ash commented.

The tops of Holm's ears burned with embarrassment. “This one's worse than the other. It looks like a man's cock.”

“And almost life-size. Very valuable. You don't want it?”

“No!”

“I'll be glad to take it off your hands, payment for fashioning your amulets.”

“Good.”

“Hmmm.” T'Ash surveyed the pearl. “I think I'll give it another year or two to grow.”

Clam disagreed. It wanted the pearl out as soon as possible. Holm passed this on to T'Ash.

T'Ash considered the oyster. “Very well. It's large enough for a small sculpture to be fashioned.”

Holm choked again. “All right. You're sure you want it?”

T'Ash raised his eyebrows. “There's a market for sensual jewelry, the same as for every other sort of erotic art.” He squeezed Holm's shoulder, and a white grin broke the olive tone of his face. “Count your blessings. This could have been the first pearl, then you'd be wearing it.”

“Not a chance.”

“As if this wouldn't have caught your attention as a boy.”

Holm coughed, but couldn't deny it.

“That's why your pearl will be the centerpiece of your protective spell. It's the jewel you're most linked with. You've toyed with it when thinking. You've carried it in your pocket. It sits in your suite, on your headboard or on your desk. It's you.” T'Ash made kissy noises.

Holm took him down. They landed on the stone floor with grunts and began a satisfying fight.

Damn it,
Holm thought as he shot an arm out and caught T'Ash's jaw, grinning himself now.
I'm going to have to wear a pink pendant that looks like lips pursed for a kiss.

He'd be fighting a lot.

 
 
A few moments later they both lay on longchairs in the con
servatory at the top of the fortress, drying off from an after-fight swim. Meserv snored gently by Holm's side. The soft fur of the kitten felt good against his skin. Sunlight streamed through the glass dome and bounced off the deep blue pool water, then vanished in the layers of greenery.

“Nice,” T'Ash grunted, sporting a standard quick-heal bandage on his jaw that should Heal the bruise in a couple of septhours.

Holm pressed a painease spellcloth to the cut by his mouth before he replied. “Thanks. I'm the only one who likes it.”

“Tinne?” T'Ash asked.

“He spends a little time here. Mamá tolerates it—” How wonderful to be able to talk of her casually, knowing she wouldn't die. “Father resents that I've altered an ancient and miserable attic storeroom, making it into a place of beauty.”

T'Ash just grunted. Holm knew he thought of his own lost Residence, burned to the ground when T'Ash was six. Sometimes Holm envied T'Ash the freedom he had to design and build a brand-new home, consulting only his taste. But Holm knew T'Ash didn't see it that way. Holm could barely move a chair without hearing about it. Now. But his time would come.

Idly he wondered what his lady would change about T'Holly Residence when they were wed and HeartBonded. Her apartment had been light and airy, with cream-colored walls and vibrant-colored furniture. He smiled in anticpated glee. In one of the storerooms, well-wrapped, were brightly colored tapestries that he could hardly wait to hang. She'd like those.

The chair next to his creaked and Holm turned to see T'Ash's eyes narrowed at him. “You look different,” T'Ash said. “Softer.”

They stared at each other for a moment.

“A woman,” T'Ash concluded, propping himself on an elbow.

Holm felt his mouth twist. “A HeartMate.”

T'Ash's eyes widened. “I didn't think you had one, didn't think you ever Connected during your Passages.”

Holm's smile became even more sardonic. “It's hard to think about anything except staying alive when your Passages consist of death duels.”

T'Ash nodded. “Especially Downwind.”

Holm shifted Meserv to his chest, where he could pet the kitten. Meserv's purr vibrated against Holm's chest wall and soothed him even as the Fam's small snuffles tickled Holm's hair. “My parents sent me to D'Willow for a matchmaking consult.” From the corner of his eye he saw T'Ash's brows rise.

“Expensive.”

“She confirmed that I'd had to ‘grow' to match my HeartMate. I think that little trek across the country with Tinne was responsible for my ‘growth.'”

“Hmmm,” T'Ash said.

“It's not going to be easy to win her.”

T'Ash gave a crack of laughter. “When is it ever?”