Heart Fate (49 page)

“Let me think.” Tinne paced the great hall. It was well lit, clean, beautiful, but he'd glimpsed its original appearance in Lahsin's mind. Grungy, gray with dust, deserted. “You have a good plan. Call and see who comes.”

“When?” The Residence sounded apprehensive.

“What about dawn?” Tinne envisioned twenty people hovering by the four entrances. “Wait . . . people can't teleport in—”

“Lahsin showed me how to modify my shields for those without desperate need, within my walls only, they can't go into the estate. I can hold the teleportation pad open for a septhour or so. When I ‘call' I can send images.” It was more enthusiastic.

“You could tell them they could be disguised. Wear masks or something if they want. That might bring you some more.”

The Residence sighed. “How many do you think will come?”

Tinne shrugged. “I don't know.”

“I would like to see some of them again,” it said wistfully.

The Residence hadn't been as comatose as he and Lahsin had thought. Not if the Residence controlled the estate. One more reason to keep it active. The more the house deteriorated, the more FirstGrove would close. Tinne was determined that Druida should have a sanctuary. What would have happened to Lahsin if FirstGrove hadn't been available? He hated to think of it.

“I'll come before dawn and be here when you ‘call.' But now my Family is waiting for me, I must go.”

“Merry meet,” the Residence whispered.

“And merry part and merry meet again!” Tinne emphasized the words. Then he 'ported home. To T'Holly Residence.

 
 
At dawn, Tinne was back in the teleportation room of BalmHeal
Residence, listening to the “call.”

Dramatic, but BalmHeal Residence used all the desperation it so often felt from others and sent it with its call.

Come to me. Teleport here.
An excellent image of the teleportation pad.
Come secretly, come disguised or not. Come!

A loud bell rang throughout the house. Tinne jumped.

“BalmHeal Residence,” the house said. Tinne looked around.

“This is the starship
Nuada's Sword
. My Captain requested we call you to say he is on his way by fast stridebeast. Please ensure there is proper stabling for the creature.”

Tinne stared. There had to be stables, but he didn't know where, or their condition. He cleared his throat, but the Residence answered, “Tell the Captain to put the beast in the westernmost room of the clocktower building. It smells of dog.”

“Understood. Done.” The ship signed off.

“That's good.” Tinne infused his voice with cheer he didn't feel. “The Captain of
Nuada's Sword
, Ruis Elder, always has a different viewpoint.” Since the man had no Flair, suppressed others' Flair, Tinne foresaw an uncomfortable time.

There was a slight pop, and an old woman, dressed in wild purple night robes, appeared on the teleportation pad. She rubbed her nose, cackled. “It's too cold in here, Residence, turn up the heat!” Then her sharp black eyes fixed on Tinne. “T'Holly's youngest. Not surprising. Is there caff and food?”

He gestured to the hallway. “The parlor, second left door.”

She sniffed, nodded, and without introducing herself, marched out.

The teleportation pad became busy with other men and women arriving, most staring at the room in wonder, as if they'd never been inside the Residence. Three had come cloaked and masked.

Pounding thundered at the front door. Tinne hurried to the great hall, noting the twelve people who'd arrived had settled in the parlor, slurping caff, none of them attending to the summons. He opened the door to Captain Ruis Elder and Cratag Maytree.

“Saw this guy on my ride,” Elder said. “Took him up.”

Maytree flexed his shoulders, stamped his feet. “Don't have enough Flair to 'port.” He grimaced. “Don't much like riding, either.” He looked around. “Nice.”

Elder nodded. “Yes. I knew the house was here but have never been in it. Last I saw, it was covered in brambles.”

“The meeting is to the right and down the hall. Follow the voices,” Tinne said.

Then he
felt
Lahsin arrive and stilled. This would be hard.

 
 
The call had insinuated itself into Lahsin's dreams. Bad dreams
of the past with overwhelming desperation. When she woke, her cheeks were wet with tears.

Reluctantly she dressed and teleported to BalmHeal Residence. It looked great.
She'd
done this, restored it.

She hadn't wanted to come, knew Tinne was here and didn't want to think about him, about whether she'd been unfair and dishonorable. She was confused.

But BalmHeal Residence had
called
with Flair that touched the blood in her body, and she could not decline. She'd promised.

The moment she'd arrived, the link between her and Tinne blew wide open. She suffered his hurt, the burden of her rejection, and she snapped the bond as narrow as possible.

Something else froze her in the spot.

She heard voices.

Others were in the Residence.

More than one person, more than her and Tinne.

Not far away. So she walked to the parlor and counted sixteen people, having flatsweets and beverages. They were an odd assortment: one boy younger than herself, the starship Captain, Ruis Elder, and the Hawthorn guard, Cratag Maytree, who'd given her the information about FirstGrove. He tipped his head when he saw her.

Most were older than she, and three were disguised in enveloping robes and full head masks.

Tinne stepped forward. “The Residence needs a caretaker, preferably a caretaker Family, more than one person.”

She heard no BalmHeal grumbles in her mind and was grateful.

People protested, all wanted to keep the sanctuary secret, with no one on the grounds.

“As you heard in your call, if we abandon the Residence, Druida will lose FirstGrove forever. It is not well done of us to ignore and forget the place that sheltered us in a bad time.”

More discussion, then agreement, but varying opinions as to what should be done. Finally Cratag Maytree said, “Perhaps it should be a family with nothing to lose.”

“Are you thinking a cursed Family?” Tinne asked. “I'd never allow a cursed Family to besmirch this sanctuary.”

The oldest woman creaked an amused sigh. “Wonder what would prevail, a cursed Family or a blessed sanctuary.”

“Beg pardon,” said Tinne shortly. “But I don't think you understand what you said.”

“Beg pardon,” the old woman mocked, “but I do. I am the last cursebreaker living.”

That shut everyone up.

Lahsin glanced at Cratag, he was frowning as if fumbling for some concept. She offered him a flatsweet. He took it absently, bit into it. He said, “Not a cursed Family, but maybe a disgraced one?”

Ruis Elder stopped lounging. “What are you thinking?”

Cratag chewed, swallowed, waved the flatsweet. “Was thinking of the newssheets, the stories they tell.” He looked at Lahsin. “A dim, runaway girl escaping her older husband. That smears a Family.” He shot Tinne a look. “A Family with political aspirations and a divorce scandal, many past scandals.”

Lahsin stared, but Cratag had judged Tinne's temper better than she. Tinne's jaw clenched, his hands curled white over the wooden arms of the chair, but he didn't move.

“A Family with a null in it,” Cratag continued.

“Nulls aren't quite as disreputable as they were,” Ruis Elder said coolly.

Lahsin prayed Cratag wouldn't mention thieves or murderers. He didn't. He merely took another bite of flatsweet. But everyone's attention was focused on him and no one else spoke.

“Thing is,” Cratag said, “D'Yew's pride has been pricked, but she doesn't see herself as ruined. She's the head of a FirstFamily Grand-House; the Hollys are a FirstFamily GreatHouse, as are the Elders; Captain Elder, here, is the Captain of the last starship. None of you are lowly enough to want to leave Druida, not even to rusticate.”

“Certainly not in the winter,” Tinne said.

“Scandals come and go, every Family has them,” the old lady said.

“Exactly,” Cratag said. “But a Commoner Family, or middle class, or even lower Nobility might not think that way. A scandal touching one member of the Family can affect them all.”

“Unless they cast off the offending member.”

“Yes. So we're looking at some characteristics here that might give us a Family who would care for the Residence and FirstGrove. A disgraced Family.” Cratag finished his flatsweet, wiped the crumbs from his mouth with his softleaf.

“Honorable,” Tinne said. “They—each member—must be honorable. Whatever the scandal attached to the Family name, it must not be one regarding honor. The sanctuary must be protected, they must be discreet and honorable enough to keep secrets.” He smiled. “Even lie to keep the secrets.”

“There are also perceived scandals, rumors, slanders, and beliefs about a Family that are untrue. A Family suffering such a fate would be an excellent choice,” the old woman said.

“Flair,” Ruis said. “The Family must have great Flair. Even now the Residence becomes uncomfortable at my presence, and spells will have to be rewoven.” He dipped his head to Lahsin.

“I'll see to it,” she said.

“If one of the members, or the Family itself had a Healing strain in their bloodlines, it would be good,” said one of the cloaked ones, a female older than herself, Lahsin guessed. She wondered if that woman, too, had been abused. Were all three of the cloaked people abused women, or children now adult?

“A disgraced Family, of more than one member, a loving Family who sticks together, a Family with great Flair, an honorable Family.” The old woman ticked off the list on her fingers. “Each person to make a Vow of Honor of secrecy.”

“I think,” came a high voice of a man, another cloaked person, “I know such a Family.”

“Who?” chorused several.

“The Mugworts.”

Babel hit. “They are Cross Folk.”

“They experimented with pylor.”

“They might have had associations with the black cult!”

The man who spoke originally lifted a delicate hand with long fingers and well-shaped nails. “No! First, only the Lady is of the Cross Folk persuasion. Second, they had a couple of incense sticks with a trace amount of pylor in them, currently available from any candle shop.” The man shrugged. “I'd imagine most of our households would have the same in a storage drawer. Third, GraceLord Mugwort was a circuit judge, this has ruined his career. The Family is in desperate straits and are packing to leave Druida, but they are not a wealthy Family.” Lahsin thought she saw a flash of teeth. “They may show up here in FirstGrove.”

“How many of them are there?” asked the old woman.

“The immediate Family? Four. The Lord and Lady and two daughters, one sixteen and one twelve. The Mugwort line itself is close to dying out, the Lord has no elders or siblings. GraceLady Mugwort's Family, the Ginsengs, have disinherited her.”

“The Ginsengs have much old BalmHeal blood in them,” the Residence said. “Good Healers. I would accept them if they have such Flair.”

“All the Family has exceptional Flair. Tinne, you might ask T'Ash about the testing of the two daughters. The Lady and her oldest daughter have excellent Healing skills. The Lord is honorable. They are HeartMates, so the Lady is honorable, too, since that would be necessary for him. He has instilled high values in his children.”

“You seem to know a great deal about them,” the old woman said suspiciously.

The man shrugged.

There was murmuring, but no resolution.

Ruis Elder stood. “I must leave before I affect you all, the Residence, and the estate with my nullness. Why don't we make inquiries in the next two days about the Mugworts then send a vote pebble to the Turquoise House cache box. White for approaching and accepting the Mugworts as a Family for the Residence, black for not.” He bowed to Lahsin. “GentleLady Rosemary will tally the votes and relay the information to GreatSir Holly.” Now Elder bowed to Tinne. “Whom I thank for taking charge of this task.”

Another cackle from the old woman, who grabbed a couple of flatsweets, stashed them in her cloak, and bit into another. “We'll cast our minds back to older scandals that might have impoverished a family.” She munched the flatsweet. “One thing's for certain, if there isn't a scandal in the past, there's always one just around the corner.”

Lahsin raised her voice in protest at having to deal with Tinne, but no one heard as they all gathered together and made their way back to the teleportation room, talking all the while.

Tinne looked at her with grief in his eyes. “You know it's illegal for me to inform you I'm your HeartMate, Lahsin.”

She glanced aside, she'd forgotten that in her wallowing.

“I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. I wish I hadn't.” He inclined his head. “But I have not offered you a HeartGift, or courted you, and I won't. Come to me when you're ready.” He became brisk as he turned away from her. “Just count the markers and have TQ relay a message to me, but from what I've heard tonight, the Mugworts sound like a good choice.”

Soon everyone had departed. Not even the Residence spoke to her. All was silent.

Thirty-seven