Heart Fortune (Celta) (16 page)

* * *

T
he next morning . . . the next two mornings, the sullen talk around
camp was that no one wanted to go down into the ship due to the curse. Jace
ached
to do so, but had no illusions that he’d have any partners or backup. The stormy weather had invaded the crew, fear overtaking even greed.

And the person spreading the rumors besmirching his name and smearing the whole project, hung solidly with the rest.

The Elecampanes had tried to casually question the staff, but the community and the owners were always in a delicate balance. The workers needed the gilt—but they
could
hire out somewhere else if they left, and they might not come back. And the Elecampanes needed hands, now and in the future. Not to mention that none of the Elecampanes were well trained in investigation.

Jace had rarely seen the crew so united.

The Elecampanes were savvy enough to leave the glowering staff alone, focusing more on refining the communications system and using most people as laborers to dig.

All the food sticks that had been recovered from the explosions had been taken to the mess tent and given to Myrtus Stopper who collected them in a large box.

Jace picked up his shovel and trudged to the digging. The calluses that had been under the skin of his palms from past physical labor rose again in ridges. The crew still gave him a wide berth, but he was determined not to hide in the tent with Glyssa and Maxima . . . and Maxima’s crush on him was becoming a little too uncomfortable.

The deep blue sky holding the white sun showed no clouds and the day soon heated. Zem had not come with him. Lepid and the hawkcel had gone to Glyssa’s tent and Jace missed his Fam.

As sweat dripped into his eyes while he labored with other men and some women on the endless digging project, he only hoped that he was repairing his rep, though he still doubted.

* * *

G
lyssa was deep in the translation and transcription of Hoku’s journal
when she received a sharp mental command from Raz T’Elecampane.
Glyssa to the opening of the ship, now!

She jolted, and from Maxima’s jerk of surprise across the table, the girl had heard her father, too.

No time for Glyssa to wonder how a connection had formed with Raz enough for him to speak to her mentally, as she stood up quickly and caught her chair tipping over, looking for Lepid.

He wasn’t in his bed, as he’d been just . . . how long ago? Dammit, she’d gotten caught up in work. Zem slept atop a chair.

She spurted a word back to Raz,
Coming!
and headed out of the pavilion at a run, followed by Maxima.

People smiled as she ran through the camp, no doubt thinking, as she did, that Lepid had stirred up trouble. Again.

Arriving at the hole in the ground with the girder sticking out, she saw Lepid sitting and looking up at Del and Raz Elecampane. Beside him sat Carolinia, Maxima’s cat.

Del looked over at them, relief on her face. Raz appeared to be hiding amusement.

“What is your concern?” Glyssa puffed out.

Lepid shifted his intense stare from the couple to fix on Glyssa. Though he sat still, Glyssa felt wild excitement coursing through him, and through their bond.

“Your Fam, and Maxima’s”—Raz used a low, resonant voice—“have volunteered to explore the ship.”

I am small and agile and FAST,
Lepid broadcast mentally, added a yip. Keeping from hopping to his paws and dancing around was killing him.

I am smaller than he, equally agile, and smarter.
Carolinia the FamCat lifted a paw and licked it. She sent a private telepathic warning to Lepid telling him to
stay calm
that Glyssa caught the edge of, though the mental stream was in interesting images with bright-colored emotional tones that she’d never have imagined.

“The ship is very dangerous,” Glyssa said, a little weakly.

“And very dark,” Del warned. “A darker place than either of you have ever been.”

Lepid sat up straight.
I have been in housefluff and mocyn warrens. They are dark and narrow.

Glyssa found her own surprised expression mirrored in Del’s. Glyssa shrugged. “Ah, maybe at D’Ash’s adoption office?”

Carolinia gave Lepid a cold stare.
No wonder they wanted you out of T’Ash Residence.

I can make a spell light with Flair!
Lepid proudly demonstrated a weak spellglobe.

The cat followed suit with a very bright spell light. Carolinia lifted her head.
I repeat, I am smart. I am older than the fox, more experienced.

“What do you think, Maxima?” asked Raz gently.

The girl’s face had crumpled into fear, but Glyssa thought she saw pride in her eyes. “I don’t know. I should think on this.” Her parents shared a look, as if both of them were the kind who made quick decisions.

“Glyssa?” Del asked.

“No!” someone shouted. “The first
things
to really explore the ship should not be
animals.
They should not be able to see the wonders, maybe pick up a treasure or two, before humans!”

Everyone turned to see Andic Sanicle pushing through the crowd, his face angry. “This expedition is for
people
, not animals. They don’t get paid.”

Carolinia stared at him, claws extended from her lifted paw.
I am compensated.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Andic,” Trago yelled. “Let the animals go in first, take all the dangerous chances . . . losing them isn’t as bad as losing people.”

Glyssa gasped, heard Maxima, too. She whirled toward the man. “How dare you think—”

“Maxima,” Raz said in a father-tone.

The girl quieted, but glowered at Trago.

“Familiar Companions are loved and valued members of Families,” Raz said. “We do not risk their lives more readily than humans.”

“That’s right,” Glyssa said.

“We thought to attach viz recordspheres to our courageous Fams.”

The crowd hummed in approval. Del turned to Glyssa. “And I have a question for you, GrandMistrys Licorice. Can you translocate Lepid to you if he gets in trouble?”

Anxiety riffed through Glyssa. She caught her breath. “I am good with translocation of objects,” she said. “But Lepid and I have not practiced translocating him, bringing him to me when I need to.”

“We all know that. He gets in trouble all the time when you’re not around,” someone said. The camp laughed.

So that afternoon she and Lepid practiced teleportation and translocation along with Maxima and Carolinia.

After the practice she believed he was too tired to get into too much trouble and allowed him to visit Jace and Zem for the evening while she worked.

Tried to craft the story. The field report was going fine.

She’d finished transcribing all of Hoku’s journal from the time he was on the ship, had helped with the founding of the town they’d hoped to live in, and the tragic disappearance of
Lugh’s Spear.
She knew the events well, but that was all. She wanted to write it from Hoku’s point of view.

After a futile septhour, she flung the writestick aside. Why did she think she could get into a man’s head? She couldn’t even understand Jace, and she had a bond with
him.
She had definitely misread him from the beginning.

She stared at her pitiful sentences and gulped, then her mouth dried. This story was
terrible
. She would fail her friend. She would fail her field study.

She was doomed.

Sixteen

Z
em huddled on his perch, not looking good even in the predawn light.
Jace strode to him, picked him up.
What’s wrong?

I am very hungry, FamMan. I must eat often . . . and I haven’t been. I am . . . failing.

Guilt, fear, roared through Jace. “I’ll think of something. Lepid hasn’t been helping.”

He does some, but he is young and easily distracted.

“We’re heading to the mess tent, now. Myrtus Stopper will already be preparing for the first breakfast shift. And I’ll talk to him about allowing you in by yourself. Can you allow him to feed you?”

A dry cackle.
I . . . will . . . try. I do not like him . . . much. He has . . . stuff . . . on his hands and . . . wants . . . to pet . . . me. Bad . . . for . . . feathers. But I . . . do . . . not . . . think I can . . . get . . . to . . . that place . . . alone.

They were outside Jace’s tent now, in the cool morning, moving along a path to the main road that would hold six across. Jace walked rapidly, kept his stride smooth.

Maxima’s cat appeared and sat in the middle of the path and Jace jerked to a halt.

Greetyou, Bayrum
, the little cat said mentally. Her mouth was full of mouse, not that she was one to verbalize much.

Impatient, but not willing to be discourteous, Jace said, “Greetyou, Carolinia.”

Greetyou, BirdFam Zem,
Carolinia said, eyes wide with curiosity.

Greetyou, CatFam,
Zem said.

I heard you, Zem,
Carolinia said.
I was playing with this mouse, but you can have him. He is nice and fat from grains in the stable.
She opened her mouth and the mouse dropped. It lay there for a second, then rolled to its feet.

Zem dove from Jace’s shoulder, click, snick,
snap!
He crunched and swallowed the mouse.
Good. I thank you, Carolinia,
Zem said, tilting a bit on the ground due to his injured wing.

Jace checked his own hands for any contaminants that might harm his companion, then picked Zem up, cradled him in his arm. “Thank you, Carolinia.”

You are both welcome.
She blinked at Jace.
You will continue to sneak me clucker in the mess tent. And egg, now. And cheese, too. I particularly like cheese.

It wasn’t a question. Nothing came free from a cat. “I will,” Jace said. “And you will . . .”

I will help feed Zem.
She turned and walked away, tail high and waving.
That FamFox is mostly useless. I am a good huntress. I can bring you five bits of food a day, as well as go down into the ship once each day. I am a very efficient Cat.
She looked over her shoulder.
And for my food
—
I do not stay in the camp. I hunt in the FOREST and by the lake. I am a Fam trusted in the wilderness and not old and lazy like Shunuk fox.

“You’re wonderful, Carolinia,” Jace said automatically.

Yes, I am,
she said before she turned away.

It will be good to have more live food,
Zem said.

Jace sighed, stroked his Fam’s head with his forefinger. “I am sorry I’m not providing as well as I should be for you.”

You are a big human and cannot hunt like cats or foxes or hawkcels.

“That’s right. There must be something I can do to provide you with food. At least newly dead prey.”

I would like on your shoulder.

Jace complied.

He continued to mull over the problem as he strode to the dining tent. There he set Zem on a perch and fed him raw ground furrabeast bites the cook had ready for them.

Jace spoke with Myrtus about allowing Zem in by himself; most Fams were not permitted to be in the mess tent alone. He told the cook Zem’s concern about Myrtus’s hands, which surprised the man and he studied his fingers, shook his head. “Gotta admit, I get grease on them, or food, or use lotion.
Cleanse!
” Myrtus ordered. The air around his hands wavered, a tangy scent rose around them. Zem cheeped and lifted his wings and Jace steadied his BirdFam.

After a few seconds, Myrtus held out his hands, glanced up at Zem. “Are my hands clean enough to pet you?”

Let me sense,
Zem said.
I will not bite.

Myrtus lifted his hands. Zem ducked his head.
They are good.

“Great!” Myrtus stroked him for a minute before Zem said,
That is enough. Jace is my FamMan.

Myrtus scowled.

* * *

G
et up! Time to get up. See the sun rise
. Lepid’s claws easily pierced
the thin sheet.

“Uhng.” She didn’t often watch the sun rise. Maybe in the late days of winter when the days were so short and she had the first shift at the PublicLibrary, before WorkBell. Then she rose in the dark. She’d never been a fan of early mornings.

Come on!
Lepid hopped close to her head and licked her cheek. Wet, rough tongue. Sorta nice. Fox breath with the smell of blood, eeeww!

She rolled and her Fam jumped off her to the bedsponge, springing around. “Don’t you go with Jace and Zem in the mornings to get food for the hawkcel?”

Lepid stilled.
I want to be with YOU this morning. Lots of fat skirls in the forest yesterday. I caught enough for him and me.
Lepid’s gaze slid away.
He is not eating much and I have found good caches for my remaining bits.
He opened his mouth and his tongue lolled.
Hunting is so much more fun than getting food from a no-time on a plate.

Glyssa’s stomach dipped. Life in the wild for sure. Well, this is what she’d wanted. She swept off her nightshirt and put it away and dressed as Lepid zoomed around the pavilion. “All right, let’s go see the sunrise.”

It is bee-yu-tee-ful.
Another sidelong glance.
Best seen from a special hill outside camp.
Glyssa tensed. “Outside camp?” She’d had a mental picture of Jace showing her the beauties of the wilderness, not a young fox, and hadn’t ventured out on her own. “Is it safe?”

Yes, most of the big, mean animals are asleep.

She wondered about the “most,” but leaned down and petted Lepid. His fur was soft under her palm, his body wiry and ready to run. “Sure. Show me the sunrise.”

Yet when she reached the edge of the camp, and the spellshield against larger animals that the Elecampanes and the staff had erected and tended with monthly rituals, she hesitated. She’d never been in uninhabited countryside. She’d lived in the city most of her life, had visited some of the libraries in other towns and cities safely enclosed in a glider along established roads. Her Family had an estate in the south outside Gael City, but that area, too, had long been settled.

Swallowing, she pushed through the barrier, hurried until she caught up with Lepid, who’d paused in his running to look over his shoulder.

Isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t it nice? Isn’t it FUN?
He shot off along the side of the dark and towering trees. As Glyssa stumbled after him and her eyes adjusted to the deeper dark outside of camp, she saw that they moved along a path beaten from grass into dirt by many feet. That reassured her and she let out the breath trapped in her chest.

The sky lightened, a few of the most distant stars being lost as the small white sun of Celta approached a horizon Glyssa couldn’t see.

Hurry!
Lepid urged mentally, loping up a small incline that was more a rise than a hill.

Her breath coming fast . . . she needed to make this run every day and get into better shape . . . Glyssa shivered in the cool air. She should have brought a thin sweater, but she hadn’t anticipated that the warm summer mornings had welcomed a trace of autumn.

As soon as she reached the top and turned to face east, she caught her breath enough to murmur “Weathershield,” and warmth pressed around her again.

She stared at the tops-of-trees-and-low-hills horizon, the wisps of high clouds taking on red and edged with gold. Brilliant stars still burned and shafts of sunlight lanced through the forest around her as the sun rose. Beautiful. She only wished Jace was here to share it with her. Missed him though he was no longer thousands of kilometers away.

A mocyn!
Lepid yipped and took off after the small fluffy-tailed, long-eared animal that Glyssa only saw as a brown blur. And she was alone in the wilderness.

All by herself. Suddenly she was aware of the freshening breeze that rattled leaves on the trees, a susurration that she hadn’t paid attention to before. Other sounds came, animal sounds, a huge thrashing from the path she’d trod.

Alone without a weapon. Her mind scrambled to recall the self-defense all children were taught in grovestudy, a few moves Camellia had taught her more recently. She did recall her teacher saying
use any spell you know that might repel an attacker.

Before she could think of one, something roared and grabbed her from behind!

She whirled,
whirled!
Whirlwind spell!
She snapped the Flair Word and the fast-cleansing-and-clothing spell pushed her attacker away.

Sanicle stared at her goggle-eyed as her clothes whipped from her and they and she were cleaned and they wrapped around her again, her hair was yanked and tugged into fancy braids, Flair enhanced her eyes and cheeks, colored her lips. Other than wearing her work clothes, she was ready for a noble ball.

That’s what her personal whirlwind spell did. If she’d been in the pavilion with other clothes near, her very best would be on her now.

Now she had the time and space to teleport away from him to a place she knew well, if she’d been in the city. Or if she could visualize her pavilion, the light, the furniture placement. Or she could summon another spell to send him flying down the hill—one to steady wobbly bookcases. Or she could run, if she thought she could beat him to camp. Which she didn’t.

She did nothing but watch the man double over with laughter at her expense.

What?
shouted Lepid in her mind from the forest. She felt him streaking toward her.

Sanicle straightened, grinning, and wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve. He was dressed in sturdy work clothes, not like a man who faced unknown dangers in the wilderness. He carried no weapon.

She was ready for a damn ball.

“Well done, GrandMistrys,” he hooted. He didn’t mean it. He thought surprising her was funny, her reaction funnier still. She wanted to slap him.

“I’m sorry I overreacted,” she said, not meaning her words, either.

“My fault,” he said cheerfully, looking as if he still enjoyed her original distress and her reaction. “I couldn’t resist, you looked so citified here on the hill in the dawn. Just . . . unique. Everyone comes here.”

Glyssa shrugged. “I am not sure how long it will take for my city appearance to transmogrify into something more like the rest of the staff.”

His lips twitched, he ducked his head. “Um-hmm.”

Lepid bounded up the last few paces of the hill.
What is wrong?

Glyssa stretched her lips in an unamused smile. “GentleSir Sanicle”—and that form of speech was a misnomer—“gave me a slight scare.”

That is not good.
Lepid nudged her leg with his nose, leaving a smear on her clean trous. She actually liked that, wouldn’t look so prissy when she returned to camp. From here, she saw plenty of people stirring. She rubbed Lepid’s head.

Her fox focused his glare on Sanicle.
You made me lose my mocyn with your stupid human noise!
Lepid accused.

Sanicle frowned as if he barely heard the Fam. Lepid snapped his teeth.

Don’t bite him!
Glyssa ordered.

Lepid gave the man a disgusted look.
I am going back to camp to the breakfast tent. My mouth was set for more food.
With a whisk of his tail, Lepid shot sure-footedly down the hill.

“What’d he say?” asked Sanicle, but not as if he cared.

“He was chasing a mocyn who got away.”

“Oh, too bad. Let’s head back to the camp.” Sanicle smiled. Was that smile supposed to be charming? Had he had a lot of success using it on women?

Glyssa nodded. Her quiet moment was broken, and as cowardly as it was, she didn’t want to be out of the camp alone. “Of course,” she said.

She looked for the path, but it curled around the bottom of the ridge. She supposed people and animals went up the hill as they pleased, to one end or another of the rise . . . or the middle where she and Sanicle stood. Halfway down the hill, her feet slipped on dewy grass. Sanicle caught her before she fell on her derriere, steadied her and tucked her arm inside of his.

“Let me take your arm,” he said, without letting go.

* * *

J
ace watched Lepid race into the tent, tongue lolling, skidding to a stop
before Myrtus, where he wiggled.
You can pet me, wonderful cook!

“Huh.” But Myrtus bent down and rubbed the fox. Lepid yipped in pleasure, rolled over to his back, exposing his white belly, and the cook continued to pet him, grinning. When he was done, he looked at Zem, ordered “Cleanse,” again for his hands, then held them out to the BirdFam again. “Foxes are nice,” Myrtus said, nudging a still lying, all paws in the air, Lepid with his foot, “but hawkcels are majestic, unusual Fams.”