Heart Fire (Celta Book 13) (13 page)

“A stipend will not be necessary,” the High Priestess continued smoothly. She gestured at the new turquoise folder on her desk. “You are very lucky.”

Sure didn’t feel like that, and Tiana’s spine went ramrod. So far, nothing about this assignment—except the physical attractiveness of Antenn Blackthorn-Moss—had felt lucky.

“The Turquoise House is between occupants and it has offered itself to you as a domicile.”

Tiana blinked as she processed that sentence. “My sister stayed at the Turquoise House for a week last year.”

“And so it knows your Family.” D’Sandalwood frowned briefly. “I think there might be other connections with you or yours that—but I don’t know for sure.” She shrugged. “Currently the House has been empty at its own request for about a half year, and minimally furnished.” D’Sandalwood chuckled. “It says it would be happy to decorate for you.”

Tiana’s mind spun, ideas flitting around, unable to get any traction for her to think through. A sparkling wonder made her smile at the thought of an intelligent Residence taking her wishes into consideration. At
anyone
taking her wishes into consideration . . . putting her first. Incredible concept.

Too incredible. “I . . . uh . . .” She had no clue how to furnish or decorate a House in a pleasant manner. She’d paid little attention to her old home; they’d lived on the run for a year, then had been offered custodianship of the estate of FirstGrove, the ancient BalmHeal Residence, which was already furnished. About the only thing she’d added to her room was . . . a drawing of the floor plan of the Turquoise House she’d gotten as a gift.

She
felt
her pupils widen.

“The Turquoise House has a relationship with Mitchella D’Blackthorn, the interior designer, who has worked with it before,” D’Sandalwood said.

“Antenn Blackthorn-Moss’s mother,” Tiana said.

“That’s right.”

Tiana leaned back, staring at all three folders, and a chain of inner personal questions pinged through her brain, quickly asked, quickly needing answers. Her life had twisted and flipped in the last day. The challenges ahead of her, internal and external, loomed big and nearly insurmountable . . . at least so they loomed in her inner vision.

Much was being asked of her. She could quit. She could live in BalmHeal Residence and work on the estate for the rest of her life, become hermitlike as her parents had. Did she want her career? This career? Yes. The Lady had called her when young and she had answered. This was her vocation.

Move on to the next question.

She’d have to root out her anger and pain and fear with regard to the past. Could she do that? She could try. No, not try. She
could
Heal, would Heal whatever wounds lingered inside her. But if she went on, she’d have to deal with those challenges.

She’d have to live away from the bedrock support of her Family, the deep security of BalmHeal estate. That part sounded a little exciting, but scary. And the idea that the Turquoise House would welcome her, decorate for
her
tastes, was near staggering. A huge benefit of these changes.

And there was more at stake here than just one building project, even a huge cathedral, or her career.

She
was
the best person for this particular job. No one could understand both religions as she could. If she withdrew from being the liaison, wouldn’t that be hurting society itself? Letting people from two religions stumble through what should be a smooth partnership, perhaps insult and alienate one another? This
did
have the potential to fracture elements of society, have it solidify into rigid structures of distrusting religious differences that might take years to overcome.

The High Priestess watched her patiently, ready to give her all the time she could, Tiana knew, to work through her decision though the joint press conference was within a septhour. D’Sandalwood was a good woman, a good employer, a good role model.

Tiana had help: the High Priest and Priestess, her excellent friends Camellia and Glyssa as well as her Temple colleagues, her Family, even her Fam.

And Antenn Blackthorn-Moss. He’d help.

No, she wasn’t totally alone anymore. “I can’t make this decision for two of us without input,” she said.

D
’Sandalwood frowned. “Two of you?”

Felonerb, to me!
Tiana shouted mentally. Unlike most humans who usually needed spatial and light cues, Fams could teleport to their persons. Perhaps it was because of their size . . . or their animal natures.

I am here!
Felonerb appeared on her lap. This time she wasn’t surprised that he smelled a little less than pleasant, or that he dropped a semiclean, unknown-origin bone in her lap. He gave her a lick near her chin, then picked up the bone and began to crunch . . . and little flakes of
stuff
fell on her lap.

He turned to the High Priestess with a grin around his bone.
Greetyou, Holy Woman!

D’Sandalwood appeared delighted. “Greetyou . . .”

FELONERB RATKILLER MUGWORT!

The High Priestess coughed. “Greetyou, Felonerb RatKiller Mugwort.” Though her smile remained, her eyes sharpened to serious. “I’m pleased to meet you. Your FamWoman has a question to ask you.”

Still gnawing, and appearing totally disreputable, Felonerb looked up at Tiana. He burped.
What, FamWoman?
His green eyes were wide . . . and also totally trusting. Yes, she had the help—whatever that might consist of—and the supportive love of her Fam.

Matching his gaze, she said, “We are being offered the opportunity to live in the Turquoise House.”

His pupils enlarged.
WE ARE! I will be the only Fam!

Tiana winced. “Quieter, Felonerb, we can hear you. And I think I heard there are feral Fams that live outside and that the Turquoise House takes care of.”

But he was standing, tail thrashing in glee, bone forgotten on her lap.
I will be the only Fam In The House!

“I believe that answers your question,” the High Priestess murmured. She took a business card that could turn into a three-dimensional holo portfolio from the folder and a folded packet of papyrus. “Here is Mitchella D’Blackthorn’s information and the lease documents.”

Most of the last day Tiana had been in reaction mode. A fairly good thing when dealing with superiors you wanted to eventually replace, but now it was time to take charge of her own actions. She nodded to the High Priestess. “I’m sure I will work that out with the Turquoise House.”

D’Sandalwood’s lips curved. “I’m sure you will.” She waved her hand. “You are dismissed for the day to settle into your new chambers here and move into the Turquoise House.”

YAY! A new place of OUR own. Our very own House!
Felonerb jumped from her lap and did a tail-twitching cat dance around the room.

Tiana and the High Priestess laughed. Then the woman sobered and inclined her head. “And, of course, you must draft . . .
help your mother
 . . . draft an appropriate Intersection of Hope ritual.”

The elder Priestess’s brows lifted and fell, just as her husband, the High Priest, would have rubbed his hands at this moment.

Felonerb disappeared behind her desk and Tiana got the impression he was sniffing her shoes, but Tiana had to concentrate on D’Sandalwood’s words.

“I must admit I am looking forward to being a participant in someone else’s very different ritual.” The High Priestess’s expression turned thoughtful, a line digging between her eyes, her lips thinning before she said, “We shall see who of this Temple agrees to take part, and who of the FirstFamilies. I’m sure the High Priest and I can persuade the entire Blackthorn Family to come, Antenn’s father and mother and siblings.” D’Sandalwood glanced at the pretty timer on the wall. “I need to update all the FirstFamily Lords and Ladies regarding the ritual and invite them. Before the conference with the newssheets and viz reporters.” She reached for her old-fashioned but elegantly cast silver scry bowl and pulled it in front of her. Tiana took the motion for the dismissal that it was, and rose. Felonerb pranced out from behind the High Priestess’s desk.

Without looking at Tiana, the High Priestess tapped her fingers on the folded packet. “You will need to review and sign these papyrus and take them personally to the GuildHall. The City Property Clerk handles all of the Turquoise House’s rentals for it. A glider is waiting for you. Please use it today.”

A glider, too! I looove gliders.
Felonerb nearly bounced to the door, then stood outside its range and scrunched up his muzzle, and the door opened.

“Thank you, High Priestess,” Tiana said, and took the thick papyrus. “Thank you, Felonerb.” So very odd that her life had gone off in another direction once more within a few minutes.

She slipped from the room even as D’Sandalwood’s fingers skimmed around the edge of her scry bowl, initiating the communication spell. As Tiana turned to close the door, the High Priestess looked up at her with a straight, serious gaze. “FirstLevel Priestess Mugwort, you
will
use your influence on your friends D’Hawthorn and T’Hawthorn to attend the Intersection of Hope spellshield ritual, yes?”

Tiana swallowed but said the only thing she could, despite the fact that she hated asking her friends for favors. “Yes.”

I will ask Brazos and Mica to come, too.
Felonerb lifted his lip and revealed his broken tooth.
They will listen to Me. All Fams are afraid of RatKiller!

D’Sandalwood’s lip twitched and she murmured, “I wonder what T’Ash’s Zanth would say to that.”

Tiana didn’t even want to contemplate a confrontation between Felonerb and the legendary Zanth.

Zanth is ooooolllddd.
With one last tail flick, Felonerb exited the office.

And though Tiana supposedly had the day off to move, and the High Priestess might think that was the largest job for her today, Tiana knew that writing the ritual between now and tomorrow morning would take time.

She’d better use the glider for travel around the city while she had the chance. She’d go to the GuildHall, then to the Turquoise House.

We get to ride around in a glider again!
Felonerb strutted alongside her.

“Yes.”

Fun. It is Very Fun being your FamCat.

“Thank you.”

As she headed toward the entrance, she saw Lucida Gerania walking along the opposite side of the curved corridor, stormy of expression. She glared at Tiana. Gerania must have heard of the ritual then. Of course the ambitious priests and priestesses who worked in the Temple would attend the Intersection of Hope spellshield ritual just to please the Sandalwoods, but that wouldn’t prevent Gerania from thinking the whole thing was low-class.

Her gaze swept Tiana from top to bottom and her mouth curved and her hand smoothed the fabric—the more expensive fabric and more flattering and better-tailored tunic—over her hip. Then she seemed to notice Felonerb, and she simply stopped and stared.

Though the back of Tiana’s neck heated at her forever-scruffy Fam, she kept her face tranquil. She’d get over being embarrassed by her Fam . . . just another feeling that needed to be excised. Through love, that should happen soon.

Tiana reached the entryway of the east door of the Temple before she had to greet her rival with a brief courtesy. Then she exited . . . the unspoken insult to her clothes and reminder of her poverty was just another thorn of hurt she’d gathered this morning. Her head began to throb and she knew she’d have to stop at one of the HealingHalls, too, or perhaps the Turquoise House had some good medications. He should be well stocked; he’d hosted Tiana’s sister, a Healer, for a while.

Felonerb sniffed.
I saw that woman. She is snotty, like some other Fams I know. I will leave her a rat—

“No, Felonerb, you don’t have to do that.” Tiana paused. “Do you know where she lives?” Tiana had a vague idea.

She does NOT live in the famous Turquoise House
, Felonerb said with satisfaction as the door to the glider lifted and he hopped in and made himself comfortable.
WE do!

Tiana’s heart gave a solid thump in her chest. “I suppose we do.” Then she pulled out her scry pebble and contacted her mother, asking for her help with the ritual, and got an agreement. Good.

*   *   *

A
ntenn saw GraceLord T’Equisetum as he left the press conference. None of the spiritual folk seemed to have noticed the guy had stood in the back of the room. Antenn didn’t bother to nod to the man as he had to others.

They both exited the building through the back door and were in the paved courtyard, surrounded by bare trees and prepared garden beds a short garden pathway to Antenn’s own office.

“Well, if it isn’t the fake Blackthorn kid. The Downwind slum kid who wormed his way far into T’Blackthorn’s house,” the man sneered, with a good emotional jab that caught Antenn straight in his gut.

He tucked his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t swing at the guy, eyed him, and said, “You’re older, and yeah, maybe you’re in prime shape.” He studied the man insolently enough to make the GraceLord flush. “And maybe you could whip my ass.”

“No
maybe
about it,” T’Equisetum snapped.

“But probably not.” Antenn settled slightly into his fighting stance and the man didn’t seem to notice. He shook his head. “Probably not. Because, after all, I train with the best, and at the best place, with the Hollys at The Green Knight Fencing and Fighting Salon. I’ve been a member there since I was fourteen, and I’ve never seen you there.”

T’Equisetum snorted. “Expensive and overrated.”

That made a real laugh push from Antenn’s chest and let him see the guy for what he was . . . pitiful. “I sure would like you to say that to the Hollys,” he said, amused.

The man showed him teeth, not in a smile, but in a predator’s grimace. “And you know what I’d like to see, younger brother of Shade the murderer?” T’Equisetum gestured widely, then pointed at Antenn’s office. “I’d like to see you invite all of the FirstFamilies to dine with you right there, in your business back courtyard. Not at T’Blackthorn Residence or the Clover Compound where they’d feel obliged to come. No,
your
Moss place.” He smiled and rolled on. “Those FirstFamilies who had loved ones that your brother murdered with a firebombspell that could not be stopped and burned them to death.”

Antenn’s spine chilled at the thought. He kept his fingers from bunching. That would show the GraceLord he was getting a reaction. Antenn thought back to the morning’s talk of the mob and what he recalled. “Interesting that
you
brought up firebombs.”

To Antenn’s surprise, T’Equisetum went from red to white, and Antenn stared. Interesting and disturbing.

After a breath through his nose, Antenn jerked his chin up and said, “I’ll leave a guest pass at The Green Knight Fencing and Fighting Salon, if you ever want to try the place out with members of your own age group.”

“Pup,” the GraceLord snarled.

Antenn took his hands from his pockets and, keeping his Flair and senses focused on the man behind him, strolled with all the casualness he could muster to his office. Once there, equally casually, he glanced back. He didn’t see T’Equisetum. The Lord had either teleported away or moved quickly to the front and a glider on the street.

Antenn hadn’t made an enemy of the man; the guy had just been revealed to be one. Antenn rubbed the back of his neck and studied the courtyard behind his office. Yeah, it could hold a table for the FirstFamilies’ Lords and Ladies and their spouses. The image tightened his gut. As far as he knew the FirstFamilies were deeply divided regarding his existence. His friends liked him; everyone else, especially of the older generation, hated him.

How would that affect the cathedral? Would it?

He set his jaw. He wasn’t giving up that project.

And he couldn’t ever see himself taking the chance of inviting the FirstFamilies to a meal here.

He wasn’t that brave.

*   *   *

T
iana missed the press conference and announcement of the building of the cathedral as the glider took her and Felonerb from the GuildHall to the Turquoise House. She’d have to watch the viz, read all the newssheets, and keep her ears alert for general reaction.

The glider pulled up by the side of the road; a pair of fancy greeniron gates opened, then the vehicle was banked by formal garden beds. The gliderway was only a couple of lengths of a large vehicle before it opened into a flagstoned courtyard. Before the glider stopped, Felonerb had thinned his window and leapt out. Tiana gasped, and then as the vehicle stopped so her door was parallel to the entryway she just blinked and blinked.