Heart Fate (18 page)

She felt so ignorant.

She looked around at the raised beds and the choked once-pond. At the brush and trees that needed to be trimmed, the weeds that must be pulled, the fruit-bearing plants that must be thinned so they would produce. She could do that.

“The grove outside has low standards,” the Residence rumbled.

Had it said “no standards” or “low standards”?

“No one has come near
me
for long years. Yet here you are, stirring up my sleep. You'll clank around and fiddle and disturb me and then leave. Not worth powering up for. Not worth treating well.” A snort.

But hadn't she also heard the loneliness of echoing halls?

The outside door creaked open. Lahsin leapt to her feet. The dog limped in. Beyond him fat snowflakes fell.

He saw her, slunk along the wall to the corner.

“BalmHeal Residence.”

Creaky laughter. “No one has called me that in a long, long time. I do not let people in. Not many try to enter, but I do not let them in. I do not talk to them. Interloper.”

“Do you have no-times with food?”

Silence for a few heartbeats. The dog appeared as skinny as ever, as hungry as ever.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” the Residence said.

“I can eat berries, fruits, vegetables, but there's a dog here—”

“What, you think I can't tell there's a FamDog?”

“He's not a Fam,” Lahsin said. “Not my Fam, either.”

Another snort. “A dog. Dogs mess in the house.”

The dog sat up stiffly, growled.

“He won't mess in the house.”

“Let the dog talk for itself.”

I WILL NOT MESS IN THE HOUSE.
The dog's mental yell was so loud, it stunned Lahsin.

Rude beast, indeed.
The grumpy old-man voice said,
You are not welcome within my walls.
Loud, echoing snicks, as if all windows and doors were being locked. Well, Lahsin could have told the ancient and mean one that locks wouldn't stop her. Antique spellshields wouldn't slow her down very much, either.

She shook her limbs out.
The dog needs food. If you have no-times, I will get meat for it.

“And yourself.” A cackle. “Don't pretend you're not selfish. There are plenty of beasties on my grounds, let the dog pay his way and eat at the same time.” Dismissal.

“The dog—”

I can speak for myself
, the dog said with dignity.
My right rear leg is bad. Catching game is difficult.

“Too bad,” said the Residence.

“What kind of being
are
you?” Lahsin demanded. “Weren't you the Primary HealingHall for centuries? How can this be BalmHeal and FirstGrove and a sanctuary for all who need one and you be so spiteful?”

“What has anyone done for
me
?” The Residence's voice had the power of anger behind it. “Abandoned me. Ignored me. I give nothing to no one. Not human, not dog.”

The sliver of hope that had bloomed in the dog's despairing eyes vanished. He shifted a little and both his ribs and his ill-healed leg were obvious. Lahsin couldn't bear it. “I will work here in the conservatory and in the gardens of the estate for the food in your no-time storage.”

The dog hung his head, slid a glance at Lahsin.
I will pay you back.
His mind voice was hollow.

We will work out terms
, said Lahsin.

“Your ‘work' does nothing for
me
. I have well-stocked, wonderful no-times, but I will not allow you inside. There is a small storage no-time in the Summer Pavilion in the east of the estate. You both should be able to survive on its contents this winter. If you are careful. Perhaps. Or perhaps only one of you will live.” There was a carefully regulated “boom” that changed the atmosphere of the conservatory, which Lahsin took as its final word.

By the time she looked up, the dog had disappeared, though she sensed he was still in the glass house, rooting in old vegetation to make a nest for himself. She didn't know that the place was that much warmer than the stillroom building, but the thriving plants and the absence of obvious winter comforted her, so she thought it might do the same for the dog.

“I can live on grains and fruits and vegetables,” she repeated, projecting her voice. “I'll check the no-time in the Summer Pavilion later and bring you the meat.”

The dog didn't answer.

 
 
Tinne had put thoughts of Lahsin and T'Yew aside and was
concentrating on pairing Antenn and Laev for sparring, when Vinni shouted, in a rising, shrill voice, “Stop!”

Everyone froze.

To Tinne's horror, a shadow flickered in the center of the fighting salon. A person trying to teleport. What was wrong with them, 'porting to a busy place where they could kill themselves or others?

Thirteen

The figure materialized into a small girl, holding a fat housefluff
under one arm and a fat cat under the other.

She looked around. “We wanted to see,” she said, then, addressing the housefluff, “It's all boys.” Laev and Antenn and Vinni shifted. She sniffed. “And it smells funny.”

Tab stalked to her. “It smells like men's sweat. You come to take beginning classes in fencin' and fightin'?”

She blinked big blue eyes up at him, her gaze held a slight dreaminess that Tinne thought was typical. He also thought he should recognize her, but didn't. He certainly didn't circulate in her age group, or with folk who had children her age.

“Avellana.” Vinni sighed. “Avellana, you aren't supposed to sneak away from your nanny.”

“You taught me to, Muin,” she said calmly.

Tab snorted. “He was wrong.” His hand came down and enveloped Vinni's thin shoulder. “But as I recall, he 'ports real well. Don't seem as if you can. Who's teaching you to 'port, young lady?”

Avellana blinked, tilted her head, and looked at Tab. “I'm Avellana Hazel. I am six. I won't be starting fencing and fighting lessons until I am eight, after my First Passage. That's what Mommy said when I asked to come today. They don't think they'll ever give me a blazer to play with.”

Good thing, too, Tinne thought.

Grunting, Tab said, “We'll see.”

Everyone stared at him.

“Who are your friends?” Tab gestured to the housefluff and cat.

“Muin is my friend. That's why I am here.” She lifted the housefluff. “This is his Fam, Flora.”

Vinni closed his eyes and turned red.

Tab buffeted him on the ear. “You don't ever close your eyes in a fightin' situation, T'Vine.”

Swallowing, Vinni said. “Yes, sir. I mean, no, I will never do so again.”

“And this is my FamCat, Rhyz,” Avellana said. The cat's purr filled the quiet room.

Tab went to the girl, took her chin in his big hand. “This is important, GreatMistrys—”

“I am Avellana Hazel. I am six.”

“Listen to me, Avellana Hazel. It was wrong for you to teleport into a space you knew nothing about.”

“There were no life signs in the space.”

Tab's jaw tightened, then he spoke again. “There could have been. Someone coulda walked right into that space when you were 'porting.”

She stared at him, finally said, “That would have been bad. Lives would have gotten tangled.”

“Lives might have ended.”

Avellana nodded. “I understand.”

“That's why we only teleport to designated spaces, and teleportation pads always have signals.”

“Light for stay. No light, go,” Avellana repeated the simple rule.

“Correct. Now I want you to promise me that you won't teleport alone again until after your First Passage.”

She stuck out her lower lip. Her gaze went to Vinni. He said nothing. She slid a glance around the room. Her eyes met Tinne's for an instant, and he knew he was looking at a powerfully Flaired young person who
could
teleport at eight instead of seventeen. He said, “Fams don't count. You promise GreatSir Holly that you will not teleport by yourself, without another
person
with you, until after your First Passage.” A year from now, Lord and Lady willing.

“What if I don't promise?”

“Then you won't be coming here to learn fencing and fighting and maybe, just maybe, blazer work,” Tab said, dropping his hand.

“That's mean!”

“That's the consequences of your own decision, your own actions.” Tab stood up and crossed his arms.

She sniffed, talked to her cat, “A lot of boy smells.”

The cat sniffed back. He was a tom.

“Maybe I and some other girls should add girl smells, too.”

“You'll be allowed in only if you give me your solemn Vow of Honor now,” Tab said.

“Solemn Vow of Honor,” Avellana rolled it out, as if intrigued, as if no one had asked such a thing of her before. “All right.” She nodded decisively. “I solemnly vow by my very own honor that I will not teleport alone, without some other person, until after my First Passage.” She looked up at Tab, put the cat down, and stuck her hand out. “Good?”

He took her tiny hand in his own, bowed elegantly over it, brushed a kiss over her fingers. “We're good. I'll see you in a few years, Avellana Hazel.”

“We can't stay and watch? I might learn by watching. My parents let me learn by watching all the time.”

Tinne believed that. Heavens knew what she'd tried to learn by doing.

“No,” Tab said, “you can't stay. Classes are for students only. Paying students,” he added when she'd opened her mouth again. The boys relaxed. “Tinne, escort GreatMistrys Avellana Hazel to the teleportation pad and back to her Residence.”

Tinne bowed. “Yes, sir.”

She turned those big eyes on him, studied him as he covered the ground between them in a few paces. “He's good.” She looked around. “Everyone's good here,” she said, blinking her astonishing eyes at Tab. “I don't get to stay with these good people?” She sounded pitiful.

“No,” Tab said. “And your folks are good people.”

With a big sigh, she said, “Yes, but they are old and busy.”

“I am old and busy.”

“Your nanny will be looking for you, Avellana,” Vinni said.

The little girl made a face. “Yes. But she is very old.” She looked at Tab. “Even older than you. So old she has no teeth. She does not know what to do with me.”

One of the Clovers spoke up. “Our family has placed a nanny at the Ashes, and I have a sister who has trained as a nanny and needs a good job. She's young and pretty.” He smiled guilelessly. “She's taking teleportation lessons now, from an agency.”

“Teleportation lessons from an agency.” Avellana seemed to savor the words.

The Clover boy grinned. “My sister could keep up with you.” He stuck his thumbs in the sash of his tunic, rocked back on his heels. “You tell your folks about Aralia Clover. Now go away, you're wasting our time and money here.”

That seemed another new idea for her. Tinne scooped up the FamCat, set him in the crook of his arm, grasped Avellana's hand. She pulled away. “Muin must kiss Flora hello and good-bye first.”

Someone snickered. Vinni turned red again. “Avellana . . .”

But she was marching up to him, housefluff outthrust. “You must always be kind to her, you know. She already almost died once.” And that was said with such a strange inflection that the room quieted again.

Vinni bent and kissed his Fam, and Avellana returned to Tinne and slipped her fingers into his, then looked at the Clover boy again. “I will tell GreatLady Coll D'Hazel and GreatLord Zabel Honey-suckle T'Hazel about Aralia Clover.”

As Tinne walked Avellana to the entry lounge and the public teleportation pad there, he felt pulses of tingling electricity from the child. “You're very strong.”

“Yes, I know, everyone says so. Then they all whisper that they do not expect me to survive my First Passage.”

Tinne couldn't say something false, so he just grunted and squeezed her hand. “Most often we survive Passage.” He didn't want to think of any hurt coming to this child or Lahsin during her Second Passage.

“Yes. But I got brain damage when I tried to fly.”

They'd made it to the reception room teleportation pad. Tinne flipped on the light, pulled the child and the housefluff close, and checked on the cat. All were ready. “Better stick to teleportation,” he finally said. “Faster anyway.”

“Muin's working on the problem of me and Passages. He said so to Mommy and Daddy.”

Tinne thought of how young Muin T'Vine, Vinni, had filled the beginners' class, helped them. “Vinni's a good boy.”

“His name is Muin.”

“Yes.”

She looked up at Tinne with those blue eyes, showing bright intelligence behind wisps of dreaminess. “Names are important. You should call him by his proper name.”

Before he could answer, the little girl teleported them to D'Hazel Residence, leaving Tinne gasping at the unexpected trip. The cat jumped from his arms and trotted away as if accustomed to strange events. Avellana hurried down a polished marble hall. He had the impression she hadn't been missed yet.

He returned to the salon, trying to forget about the dangers of Passage.

 
 
Lahsin didn't take the Residence's bait and go at once to the Sum
mer Pavilion. The cunning in the Residence's voice had alerted her that it might be a futile trip. If she wanted food soon, the conservatory was her best option.