Heart Fate (2 page)

Holly/Blackthorn Family Tree

HeartMate marriage

* Lark's full name: Mayblossom Larkspur Bélla Hawthorn Collinson (d) Deceased

One

DRUIDA CITY, CELTA
406 Years After Colonization,
Winter, Before Dawn

 
Lahsin slid through the shadows of T'Yew Residence, escaping.
Her husband. His Family. Her life. She was as unobtrusive and light-footed as a mouse. But she was used to being mouselike in this place since the very beginning of her marriage to the master, FirstFamily GrandLord T'Yew, at fourteen.

He hadn't ordered her to his bed tonight. She didn't know why, only blessed the fact. She couldn't expect him to miss another night of rutting this week, and she was sure her Passage—the fever dreams that would free her Flair, her psi powers—would come soon. Passage would debilitate her.

She'd heard that Second Passage came like a fickle storm—first a strong wind and a spattering of rain, then dying down, then hitting with awesome force. Now at seventeen, the first dizzying eddy marking the start of her Second Passage had swept over her just yesterday. She thought. She hoped.

Because with the first indication of Second Passage, a Celtan was legally an adult. She could legally go, now, and didn't have to endure an underage marriage.

She
would
go. Despite the vows they made, despite the physical connection made during sex, she wasn't completely bound to T'Yew. Because she'd been wed at fourteen she could escape. She prayed that the laws had not changed since the old book she'd found was published.

Most Noble children didn't leave their homes when they were seventeen, but closer to twenty or twenty-two, if ever. Usually there was plenty of room for them in great houses.

But she wasn't a child, and this huge echoing castle was constricting her, stealing her air every minute. She could do
nothing
right in their eyes, T'Yew's and his daughter Taxa's. They often told her she was incompetent, helpless,
useless
. So she'd decided. To. Just. Leave.

Her fingers barely touching the cold marble of the wide bannister, she trailed them down, keeping track of her progress, counting the sweeping steps.

She should check on T'Yew. Her Flair was erratic and fluctuated in strength, but he and she were bound by sex and other links. She sent a spurt down the mental tie she kept as thready as possible.

He snored in his bed, that huge, horrible, Master's bed in the huge, horrible MasterSuite. Some woman was with him—the new servant from a distant branch of the Yews, here to work in the Family Residence.

Good luck to her, because she was good luck to Lahsin. If her luck held, she'd be away from Druida City and north to Alfriston before the Yews and her own Family, the Burdocks, realized she'd run away. They wouldn't look north. There was no reason for her to go in that direction. No Family holdings, and the land was cold and rough. Once they searched Druida, they'd continue southward, to Gael City.

Alfriston was a long two-days' walk away. She'd make it, she hoped. She
had
to be there, find shelter and work before her full Passage started and she'd be vulnerable for days. So far there had only been a half septhour of torment, enough to accelerate her plans to escape. She'd been useful to T'Yew as she was, after only one Passage, but if her Flair bloomed strongly, as both Families anticipated, they'd never let her go.

If they caught her, her life would become worse. They'd keep her in nauseating depressFlair bracelets all the time except when they wanted to use her. It wouldn't just be a punishment. Like the hours in the dark dungeon. Like her husband's sweaty body straining and forcing into her.

Don't think of that, of him! If she did, panic would fill her and the terror would paralyze her. If she considered what they might do to her, she might simply shudder to death in horror.

And what would they say publicly when they discovered she was missing? That she was mentally deficient? That she needed a loving home, loving arms to support her during her Passage? She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stifle the bitter laugh, hold still a moment until it passed. And that cost her.

So close to escape, her blood was pounding in her veins in anticipation and fear of discovery, and she knew by the soft quarter chiming of the antique clock that she was behind schedule. She'd planned on being through the entry hall and to the side door by now. Instead she was at the bottom of the stairs, facing the front door. She blinked, trying to make out the shapes of the few elegant pieces of furniture, the doorway to the right that would lead to the correct corridor.

She flinched, froze in her tracks. It was the voice of the house itself, the great Residence, speaking in her mind. Of course she should have expected it to feel her movements, but she thought she was beneath its notice.

I leave. My Second Passage comes.
A thought occurred and giddiness swirled through her. A witness! The Residence was a witness!
You are my first witness
, she spoke to the house in her mind as well as in low, hissing words. “I, Lahsin Burdock, repudiate this marriage to Ioho Yew, GrandLord T'Yew. I, Lahsin Burdock, repudiate this marriage to Ioho Yew, GrandLord T'Yew. I, Lahsin Burdock, repudiate this marriage to Ioho Yew, GrandLord T'Yew.” As she said the words, several tiny spiderweb threads linking her to him shriveled.

I hear you
, the Residence replied coldly.
I no longer recognize you as D'Yew. You are no longer mistress of this house.

She snorted at that. She'd
never
been mistress of this Residence. Would the Residence rouse T'Yew? Taxa? Anyone else in the household? Not that anyone would help, all the servants were Yews, and they all would try to stop her. They knew Ioho liked her under his thumb.

A whimper caught in her throat, rippled from her. She wouldn't give up. She grabbed her bundle and stumbled toward the door. The Residence didn't send even a tiny glow to the lamps to light her way.

She tested the door. Locked. A chuckle came in her brain, the Residence itself, playing with her, having too much fun to call T'Yew or Taxa. She muttered the password couplet and the physical locks snicked open. All the doors and windows had excellent spellshields, as was common to FirstFamilies.

No choice. She'd always had a little Flair for spellshields, now she'd have to gather what she could, along with her courage, and test it. She
would
leave, even if she tempted death by trying to teleport, something she hadn't mastered. Again her mind scrabbled, spellshields or teleportation?

I do not let you leave,
the Residence taunted.
I do not let you leave or steal from the Family.

Flinching, words stuttered from her. “I don't have much. Only some clothes, old clothes, nothing jeweled. My, uh, the skycrystal necklace T'Yew gave me for my wedding. Before we married. He gave it to me, when I was Lahsin Burdock. It's mine.” She wet her lips. “Some food. Bread and cheese and furrabeast travel sticks. I, uh, missed several meals lately. This food would have been given to me when I was, uh, D'Yew.”

“Only a few coins. You know the NobleCouncil sends me a little monthly allowance. My Family gave me a dowry.” Just a token and less than the bribe T'Yew had given them. Did she forfeit that to T'Yew? She didn't know. She nearly moaned.

She'd nearly forgotten them. Gathering all her wispy Flair, she said the Unbinding Words she'd secretly learned and memorized. The arm-bands fell off and clanged on the marble threshold. Lahsin started.

The timer chimed again. Too late, too late, dawn was coming.

Worse had come to worst. She set her sack down, placed both hands on the door, and leaned against it.

What do you do, little no-Yew?
Another snide chuckle.

She couldn't let the house distract her. Was that a creak of a floorboard overhead? She had to get out.

Screwing her eyes shut, she
willed
her Flair to come. It
had
to come. She sent all her desperation into calling it.

It hit her like a sizzling wildfire. She saw, heard, touched,
tasted
the spellshield, knew the weaving of its fabric. Yanked it apart.

OUT!
She didn't know if she screamed aloud or not. She couldn't tell because the Residence itself was screaming.

POP!
She stumbled back at the force. All the shields were down. Every single one. Gone from all windows, all doors.

In fact, all the windows and doors themselves were gone. The double front door fell outside before her in slow motion.

Lahsin felt the Residence shudder, implement emergency procedures to protect the Family and itself and raise a weathershield, drawing on all its stored energy.

It was too busy to hinder her now.

Appalled at what she'd done, unsteady on her feet, she snatched up her bag and stumbled into the night, which was graying into day, circled around the front door, the major door to the estate. She'd leave as she'd come. That felt good. Felt right.

Outside, she saw a glittering scarf of stars with one of the waxing moons caught in its shining swath, Cymru moon. Oh, she was nearly gone!

She ran.

Ran down the gravel path of the glider drive. Ran around the curving road, still in sight of the house through the bare winter trees. Ran and ran and ran to the front greeniron gate, which she struggled to shove open only enough for her and her bundle to squeeze through. No spellshield here, either.

The whole estate? She'd blown the spellshields for
the whole estate
? Blinking and shaking her head, she decided she didn't know how she did it, but it was done. Now she was escaping, leaving those behind defenseless.

No, Ioho and Taxa and the Residence and her other tormentors would
never
really be defenseless. Never vulnerable. Never beaten.

Her nervous laugh began ugly, then picked up a note of exhilaration.

She was out! Out of the estate by herself for the first time in three months!

And she was no longer D'Yew.

Almost.

She had to repeat her repudiation of the marriage to three neutral parties, three entities with no interest in her—not her Family or intimate friends or lover or HeartMate—before she was free. She felt the narrow mental bonds she had to T'Yew loosen.

Clouds swept away from the second moon, Eire. She saw the road and knew where to go.

But she was too close to the estate. She breathed deeply and ran some more, ever faster, ever freer! Soon she
would
be free of all hideous Family obligations. She'd never go back. Never, ever. Not to her Family—she only trusted her older brother—and not to the Yews.

She thought she'd die before she'd be forced back. T'Yew would punish her if she fell under his hand again. There'd be blows and the horrible thrusting of his body into hers.

The Burdocks and the Yews, both warped Families. She would never be part of that again.

She ran down the wide road past FirstFamily estates. All FirstFamilies were warped. Her blood sang with excitement, with freedom.

Until she ran into a large, solid man who grabbed her as she rocked on her heels.

She hadn't even made it out of Noble Country.

 
 
Tinne was up early. As usual, he hadn't slept well. He sat at his
desk, working on the Green Knight Fencing and Fighting Salon's books, when tapping came at the door. Thankfully, his time with papyrus was short now that he was no longer HollyHeir. He was back into the second son slot—Heir to his G'Uncle and the Salon.