Heart Fate (33 page)

“No,” Lahsin said. “I'll pay.” She could somehow, even a large bill. Give D'Ash her necklace? No. Definitely not. Her HeartMate had
made
the necklace, would know who it was for. Lahsin would pay somehow. Now the decision had been made and her immediate fears were gone, she was focused on Strother—as she should have been all along.

She swallowed as D'Ash checked his eyes, tsked, and shook her head over his leg. Lahsin found herself holding Tinne's hand.

Strother thumped his tail once, something Lahsin had never seen him do. He'd been quiet the instant they'd arrived.
It's D'Ash
, he said in awe, as if meeting a legend.

But his gaze didn't go to her, instead he looked at Lahsin.
You brought me to D'Ash.
For the first time she saw approval, gratitude . . . love? Then he closed his eyes and went limp.

“D'Ash!” Lahsin cried, fingers tightening around Tinne's.

“Busy here,” D'Ash said absently, running her hands down Strother's skinny body, stroking the coarse coat.

Tinne murmured in Lahsin's ear, “Strother's just resting. He feels safe.” Tinne lifted her fingers to his mouth, kissed them gently with warm lips. “He trusts you to protect him.”

 
 
By the time they all returned to Balm Heal Residence, Lahsin was
exhausted. She'd insisted on paying for Strother's care by setting new shields around T'Ash's workroom walk-in safe. She'd been nervous that her Flair wouldn't come or wouldn't be sufficient for the task, and T'Ash increased her unease by watching her with an inscrutable stare, arms crossed over her chest. She didn't think he—or D'Ash—believed her when she said she was a visiting relative of a minor GraceHouse. She was sure they recognized her from the newssheets, but she continued to lie. Despite everything, she couldn't force herself to trust them. They were too powerful.

Still, she'd
felt
the shields of T'Ash's vault and known they were very good, placed by old Alder who'd left his mark.

But when she finished, hers were better.

Now, as she stared down at Strother bedded on soft permamoss in the closet he'd chosen, she couldn't stop the fine trembling of her muscles. She had the lowering feeling that the only thing that kept her upright was Tinne's steady arm around her waist.

And she didn't mind that arm. It was incredibly strong and muscular, but not constraining. All she had to do was move a step away, and it would drop. Nor was Tinne projecting anything but mild friendship. Definitely no dark lust.

She didn't want lust from him, though she enjoyed rubbing salve on him and took her time. She frowned. Tinne wasn't capable of
dark
lust like T'Yew. That conclusion itself was a relief.

D'Ash had sent Strother into a deep sleep. Lahsin hadn't watched when the GreatLady had rebroken Strother's bad leg and reset it. It looked straight under Lahsin's own protective shields. New red mended flesh that would become scars showed the recent wounds, fur wouldn't grow there. Tooth punctures were on his muzzle. Strother had not been a handsome dog; now he was ugly. Also as part of her payment, D'Ash had taken DNA from Strother to trace his heritage. There were very few feral dogs.

Suddenly the small room, the smell of astringent herbs used on Strother, even Tinne's musky masculine scent caused Lahsin to go dizzy, go hot, then cold. She shuddered hard.

Tinne looked at her with lowered brows, concerned. “What?”

Lahsin wrapped her arms around herself, couldn't prevent a moan or manage a smile. She was afraid she knew what this was. “Passage.” The next psychic storm was on her in earnest.

Twenty-four

“
Fligger,” Tinne said roughly, and swung her into his arms.

“Wha—?”

His intense face filled her vision. “I'm staying with you. No one should experience Passage alone. Give me leave to stay.”

A mist seemed to veil his face, all except his eyes, which had turned a brilliant, shining silver. How was that possible? Maybe it wasn't his eyes. Maybe it was her own. What color were her eyes turning?

He jiggled her, and her bones ached, and she whimpered. She was so cold! She needed a shield against the chill. She could build a shield to block it, couldn't she?

Loud jumbled words assaulted her ears. She winced, then sorted them out. “Give me leave to stay and help you.”

Help? That sounded wonderful. Help. But a price was always paid for help, except for her brother Clute. He was the only one who had ever helped without counting cost. Because he loved her, and when you loved there were no balance sheets, no counting of cost. She loved Strother, now.

“Lahsin!”
The demanding word blew through her head. She moved and was caught by his silver gaze again. Not Clute, Tinne.

“Help,” she said, and didn't know whether she was asking his price or accepting him without it. Then she knew the cold would kill her if she didn't start building her shields, and she reached for her Flair, and it came so lava hot she thought she'd incinerate, and then she didn't think at all.

 
 
Passage was different for every person, Tinne reminded himself as
he carried Lahsin down the halls of BalmHeal Residence to her room. The Residence had snapped directions to him and now appeared to seethe in silence.

On the second story at the far end of the other wing. He snorted. Of course Strother had chosen his own closet to be well away from Lahsin. Tinne had a feeling that when Strother awoke from Healing, he'd expect a place in Lahsin's room, if not her bed.

For a fleeting instant Tinne thought of being in bed with Lahsin, then the notion was gone, to his relief. He only wanted her safe. Maybe a few years in the future when they had both Healed from their emotional ills, they might consider a closer relationship. Right now, he was fine with just being her friend.

And helping her through Passage.

She wasn't shivering anymore. The texture of her skin had changed under his hands, she felt nearly . . . slick. A shield? Her personal Flair was for shields, no doubt about that. He'd experienced her change in the shields around FirstGrove and seen it when she'd layered protection over T'Ash's safe.

That GreatLord knew she was Tinne's HeartMate, of course. Tinne hadn't said a word, but T'Ash had been Tinne's brother's best friend for years, knew most of the Holly secrets, and would have guessed. With a look, Tinne had asked him to keep his mouth shut, even from the Hollys.

“What's wrong with the girl?” asked the harsh voice of BalmHeal Residence. “Is she going to die? No dying within my walls! Stupid to have let her inside in the first place.”

From what Tinne had seen, Lahsin would be able to breach any walls, any shields, at any time. “For a Residence who housed a Healing Family and other great Healers for centuries, your bedside manner isn't very nice,” Tinne said. “She's undergoing Second Passage, as you well know.”

“She can stay,” the Residence grumbled. “As long as she doesn't die during Passage. Is her line strong?”

“Strong enough,” Tinne said. She'd surprised him by going to T'Ash's with him. Granted, he'd prodded her a little, but she hadn't given into her fears, though she'd had bloody evidence that her husband continued to search for her.

Ilexa joined him, purring. She'd eyed Strother and her manner had taken on an awareness that when Strother Healed, he might be a match for her.
Do you want my report, now? The T'Ash cats told me the Sallow dog was hurt worse. Smaller dog and not as mean.
She said it almost with admiration.

“The Sallow dog was just doing a job. Strother was defending his territory, the only place that has accepted him.”

“Maybe. No surprise Strother won with so much at stake. Questions do remain. Did the Sallow hound know that Lahsin was behind the walls? Does he or the man know this is FirstGrove?”

Sallow dog-nose is good. He'd picked up a trace of Lahsin's scent, was casting up and down the narrow path between buildings. He did not find the animal path between the bushes and the wall, did not go there.
Ilexa sniffed.
Full of thorns. Don't know how Lahsin made it through. Strother has thick matted hair, thorns catch on it.
Ilexa paused to lick a patch of sleek hair.

“Shields,” Tinne said. “Lahsin has a Flair for all sorts of wonderful shields. She had a need to go along the path, probably unconsciously put shields around her as she went.”

“Good idea,” Tinne said. He refrained from saying she'd get another meal from them. She'd picked up bad habits during her time on her own. With a slight pop, she teleported away.

He reached Lahsin's room, used Flair to open the door, and kicked it shut. He laid Lahsin gently on the bed, wondered if he should pull the window curtains, whether dark or light would be better. Wondered whether he should put a blanket over her. What did he know of “normal” Passages? Hollys always fought duels.

Sniffing, he said, “Residence, what's that smell?”

“A mixture efficacious for Passage. The girl is not the first one to go through it here.”

Tinne didn't doubt that. Surely Passage was as tough or tougher on their ancestors. Worried parents would bring their children here, especially during First Passage at seven.

“Thank you,” Tinne said.

“I have only lost twelve.”

Tinne gulped and tried to remember the last time he heard of someone dying during Passage. That didn't happen as much with the FirstFamilies as it did with the lower Nobles and middle-class Commoners. Because the FirstFamilies had had Flair longer, valued it, sometimes bred for it.

Dying during Passage wasn't news Families circulated. He stared at the slim figure of Lahsin. She was a Burdock, of lower Noble GraceHouse rank. She'd demonstrated great Flair during her first Passage and had been tested for Flair. Those results, too, had placed her at the top of her group.

If he squinted, he could see a hazy aura around her. Shield or Flair?

It would probably be best if he held her, curled himself around her but he couldn't bring himself to lie in bed with her. He had not slept with any other woman than his wife in years.

Yet he could not leave Lahsin, either. He was aware of the bonds they'd already made between them. Just looking at her tugged his emotions. So young . . . Even if she hadn't been his HeartMate, he couldn't leave a person who was becoming a friend alone to her Passage.

She shuddered, flung out her arms, thrashed. That confirmed his decision. He couldn't leave her, couldn't join her in bed. So he drew a chair close to the bedsponge and linked fingers with her. Her hand squeezed his tightly.

Then he let himself sink into a trance—more like falling, which he hated, but which he was willing to endure for her.

Suddenly he was
there
with her, not quite in the real world, but not totally in a world that her mind constructed, either. Heat blazed through her, through him, as if he touched a star. He knew she'd been cold, but now she was burning up, screaming in her mind, in his. Flames licked at him, and he tried to erect a small shield, and that spurred her.

“No,” she cried and showed him, dream hands dancing quickly, spellwords that made no sense speeding from her brain to his. The power of her Flair whirled around him.

Then they were in a translucent cage together, a cylinder that the storm could not penetrate. Elemental fears and bad memories and nightmares battered against the tube but produced no sound. Pellets of icy sleet that should have thundered, fiery rain that should have hissed. Eerie silence. He saw hideous faces in the steaming mist.

She turned to him with a sudden, sweet smile. “I can do this. I can shield myself. I can shield you, too.”

“Yes,” he said.

Her smile widened, triumph lit her eyes. “I can master my Flair.”

Tinne didn't tell her that she'd have to embrace and control those shrieking, heated emotions to truly master her Flair.

 
 
He woke septhours later, the day was fading into evening. His
fingers were still wrapped around Lahsin's. He glanced at her and saw that she'd sweated through her clothes, but didn't think he should awaken her. He certainly wasn't going to undress her.

He didn't remember the full Passage and was glad of it, but knew it was over for now. He had no idea when it might hit again, but thought it wouldn't be tonight. His deathduel Second and Third Passages had occurred every night for five nights.

But he didn't know Lahsin's cycle. Passage could come upon her the next day, or night, or in an eightday. She could have one or many more fugues. She could have flashbacks. He wished he knew more about Passage. “Residence,” he said in a low tone.

“What do you want?”

BalmHeal Residence was definitely not the eager-to-please Turquoise House.

“Do you have a ResidenceLibrary?”

“Of course,” the voice grated.

“Tell me about Passages.” Lahsin's grip had relaxed, but her fingers still curled in his own. Soft. He kept hold so they wouldn't slip away.

“Why don't you ask the girl? She's read everything in my physical library. I'll wake her.”

“No, let her sleep.” Flattery might help. “You have housed many powerfully Flaired and renowned Healers and must have observed and recorded their methods.” He glanced at the timer. “This Passage lasted about four septhours. Based on that—”

“I modulated the room temperature according to the girl's body temperature.”