Heart Fortune (Celta) (18 page)

“You would like to set it so that Zem can open it, yes?” She moved over to Zem, who raised his head and blinked out of a nap.

“Yes,” Jace said.

“And you, too, of course.”

“Yes.”

Glyssa nodded briskly, walked over to the unit and gestured to him. “Come and I’ll key it for you.”

He stood, then joined her.

She swayed as if she’d step away, but she didn’t. Her turn to clear her throat. “I’ll key it to your Flair.” Taking his hand—had hers always been so soft and smooth? He nearly shuddered at her touch. Her first real touch since they’d parted all those years ago. He’d left her and the teeming Druida City and the best sex he’d ever had. A kernel of a notion—that he’d been a fool—lodged in the depths of his mind.

She put his hand on the ident plate, said, “Jace Bayrum, authorized by Glyssa Licorice.”

Light flashed and Jace’s hand warmed and tingled as the unit’s spellshields accepted him.

Look, look what Zem and I can do!
Lepid chortled.

Glyssa withdrew her hand,
did
take a pace away from Jace, and looked at their Fams.

Lepid stood on the seat of the chair. Zem transferred himself to the FamFox’s back, curled his right foot around Lepid’s collar. With a fluid movement that didn’t dislodge Zem, Lepid slid to the floor, glided toward them with a big foxy grin.
We can go together!
Lepid said.

I can ride the fox,
Zem added drily.

“Wonderful!” Glyssa clapped. “What clever Fams!”

“Yes,” Jace said. He lifted his Fam from Lepid to the top of the no-time. “We’ll key the machine to him, and it has capabilities for Fam use?”

“Of course,” Glyssa said.

“Of course,” Jace repeated with less enthusiasm.

She grinned. “Laev doesn’t buy anything less than the best. It can get irritating sometimes.”

“Not anything I’ve ever had to deal with,” Jace said gruffly.

Her smile faded and she nodded.

Jace concentrated on getting Zem situated on the ident plate. “Zem, HawkcelFam, authorized by Jace—” he stopped. “This won’t hurt him, will it? BirdFams aren’t common.”

Glyssa hesitated. “I could send a mental query to Laev . . . wait, I have the instructions.”

“Of course you do.” Jace smiled at her.

She flashed a smile back that warmed him. They were negotiating this situation pretty damn well, not treading too much on tender feelings, not irritating each other—okay, that had been his problem, not hers, so he’d work on it. Probably.

She hurried into the inner room of the tent—would he ever see her bedroom? Did he want to? Yes, but without strings attached, and Glyssa seemed to be made up of sticky threads that led to intimate links and connections.

He heard a low chant of couplets . . . her archival cabinet, no doubt, better secured than the food no-time, though he’d bet it was older and less expensive.

A minute later she came back, with a sheet of papyrus in her hand, her mouth turned down. “I have the specs for the no-time unit, and it states the power-energy-whatever that it sends during authorization, but I really don’t know how much that is, what it means.” She shook the papyrus as if it would answer her question.

Naturally, Glyssa wouldn’t pay attention to the amount of Flair needed to access the units, or the amount it used to interact with people—or Fams. She probably never had to consider Flair limitations in her life.

“Give it to me,” he said. He was good with his hands, and machines. He studied the amount, looked at Zem. The bird was Flaired, was an intelligent being. Probably could handle the Flair-energy voltage.

Meeting his Fam’s eyes, Jace said, “Let’s try something first, all right?”

Yes, FamMan. I love you, FamMan.

“I love you, too, Zem.” Carefully Jace lifted the bird from the no-time, set him on the cushy arm of a chair. Spreading his feet, Jace gathered the exact amount of the Flair-energy charge that the no-time papyrus instructions indicated. “On three I will touch your—”

Zem lifted and stretched out a claw. Jace nodded.

This is SO interesting.
Lepid hopped around.
Zem will be able to open the food no-time!
He cast a sad-eyed look at Glyssa.
I was not allowed to open the food no-time.

“I don’t trust you not to gorge,” Glyssa said, picking up the young fox. Which was good, because the animal was distracting . . . but her words soothed Jace, as if she
could
have keyed the unit to Lepid but chose not to. Zem definitely had the same or more Flair than the FoxFam.

More confident, Jace smiled at Zem. The bird hunched less, feeling the assurance Jace sent through their bond.

Again Jace
felt
the strength of the Flair he’d gathered. It was right. He touched Zem’s claw and released it.

Zem’s beak clicked once.
Tingles!

Jace let out a breath. A couple of minutes later, Zem was authorized for the no-time and set on the floor to tap his beak against the sensitive spot that swung the door and various trays open for him.

Lepid had been told to sit on Zem’s perch chair and not get down. That didn’t stop his whole body from wriggling.

“We can change the bottom compartment to be the largest,” Glyssa said. “So it can hold . . . whatever it needs to hold for Zem, and be easily accessible.”

Jace just stared at the stuffed no-time, the indicator of all the food and drink. Food for every meal. Food for snacks. Hot and cold drinks. Hot and cold food. Food for
ritual
meals. “It still reads full,” he said. There were furrabeast steaks stacked in there. His mouth watered. He turned his gaze to Glyssa and she pinkened again.

“You’ve been here a little over an eightday and haven’t eaten anything.”

“I’ve put out flatsweets and drinks!”

He just stared.

She crossed her arms. “All right. We’re savers, the Licorices. We save. Just in case.”

He shook his head.

So she flung open her arms, reddened more. “Eat, eat it all! I don’t care. Eat whatever you want.” But an odd expression passed over her face. “Eat it all,” she repeated more firmly.

He was tempted, but he knew he wouldn’t be eating much in his tent. The odor of furrabeast steak coming from his place might cause a riot from his neighbors.

“Better that everyone in camp thinks this thing is empty.” He rapped his knuckles on the no-time. It sounded full.

She blinked, nodded. Oh, yeah, she was smart, she’d already figured out the ramifications. Moving toward him, she gestured him aside so she could rearrange the inside storage.

“I guess there’s no way for you to put some of this in your other no-times.”

Stopping, she sent him an appalled glance. “Put
food
in my document no-time!”

“Guess not.”

“Barbarian,” she muttered.

He laughed. His stomach grumbled.

Lots of things smell really good!
Lepid said.

It took her only a few minutes to reorder the food and change the menu readout. Then they all left her pavilion and paraded with the floating thing through the camp, Lepid broadcasting answers to any questions. When they reached Jace’s tent, Glyssa remained outside as he moved stuff around and fit the no-time in.

“Thank you again,” Jace said.

Carolinia and I will hunt now,
Lepid said.

The FamCat separated herself from the shadows.
I can do that, for some special food from your new no-time.

“Done,” Jace said.

At that moment the announcement bell rang.

Eighteen

W
hen they all gathered, the Elecampanes stood as a couple, as always,
and Raz Cherry T’Elecampane remained stern, more usual since the “cursed” rumors started. Before then he’d been extremely easy with the staff.

Jace realized now that he wasn’t the only one hurt by Raz’s cool demeanor. The man had charisma. People wanted to please him and his reserve made the encampment even less cheerful these last few days, especially with the cloudy and rainy weather.

“I have news,” Raz said abruptly, addressing the quiet crowd—most of the crew—who’d gathered. He stood easily, legs spread, chin up, in a command pose no one would mistake. “The airship coming next week will be significantly larger than the recent transports. We are bringing in ten guards and another Healer. Del and I will be paying the guards a straight salary.”

Which meant that the guards would be loyal to the Elecampanes. And no one, except maybe Glyssa, had enough gilt to suborn the guards.

Raz glanced at Symphyta, who stood on the other side of Glyssa and next to him.

“The pool for Symphyta has been successful and she’ll be getting new equipment. We will be subsidizing all three Healers, though, of course, each of them can choose their charges for members of this community.”

Jace figured that Trago wouldn’t do any Fam Healing at all. He didn’t know about the new Healer . . .

“Male or female Healer?” Symphyta called.

A smile flashed across Raz Elecampane’s face and Jace instinctively relaxed and smiled himself. Raz dipped his head in Symphyta’s direction. “Male.”

“Goody.” She grinned back.

Trago snarled, stalked away. No doubt he’d undercut Symphyta’s prices. Not good, and not good for morale.

“Trago, I would prefer you stay until we are finished,” Del D’Elecampane called.

The man stiffened, turned back, and stood with an angry expression, arms crossed.

Raz resumed. “Symphyta, your new tent is for two, but we don’t expect you to share unless you wish. It’s
your
tent.”

“Yay!”

“And we are replacing Funa’s.” He inclined his head to Funa . . . who’d been sleeping in several tents.

“Also arriving will be two noble sisters.”

The slight murmur that had arisen among the crew stopped as everyone focused their attention on Raz when he said, “With regard to the curse.”

He swept a cool gaze over them all. “Chlora and Musca Comosum. Musca will test the breathable quality of the air inside
Lugh’s Spear
. Chlora can scan the ship for diseases.” Raz’s expression set into a cool mask. “GrandMistrys Glyssa Licorice has offered to house them in her tent during the time we anticipate the ladies being here. We ask those of you who stay to welcome them.”

Those of you who stay!

Del stepped forward. “You all know the offer we made when you signed on for this venture. Those of you who have their return trip paid for can leave. Those of you who have earned enough pay to return to Druida can also leave.”

Jace calculated that that might be a quarter of the camp.

Raz continued, “The airship going back to Druida can accommodate twenty-five people. Those with return credit will be served first. After that, we will fill the seats from a list. Contact Maxima immediately after this gathering.” He waved at Maxima, who held a clipboard.

Silence seethed among the crew, everyone considering their options. People had stiffened with pride and offense that they would be considered cowardly enough to leave . . . or relaxed with relief that they could shake the camp dust off their boots and go back to Druida as soon as possible.

Jace had straightened.

So had Glyssa. That had him raising his brows, even as her own lowered . . . in self-examination?

I am not ready to leave my nest,
Zem said from Jace’s shoulder.

Jace wondered where his bird had a nest. Jace reached up and stroked his Fam, told him equally privately,
We will discuss this some time later.

A pause, then Zem said,
I will not leave my FamMan.

Love welled within Jace.
I will not let you pine for your home.
Some of the people leaving would be those who were homesick—for the city or for the ocean.

Del kept her hand in her HeartMate’s and cleared her throat. “Raz and I have not decided whether to keep the encampment open for the winter yet. If we do
not
, we will hire an airship as we have before, to return us all to Druida City before the new year in nearly two months. If we
do
decide to winter over, we anticipate buying component buildings for the camp—dormitories and common buildings. We would like your input on this decision.”

More quiet and Jace felt the Elecampanes’ gaze on him as they scrutinized the crew. Raz said, “We are also ready to open this venture to shares. We have contracts ready in our pavilion. Those of you who want to invest, please see us after this announcement. When access to
Lugh’s Spear
is opened again, we will be offering more shares in the venture in lieu of the bonus upon finding artifacts.”

In unison, the Elecampanes said, “Each of you consider carefully what you wish to do.”

Raz gestured around, toward the landing field, the communications tent, the rest of the camp. “Stay now or go. Determine whether you might wish to stay here in the winter and perhaps, found a permanent community here.”

Glyssa’s wasn’t the only gasp.

“. . . decide to invest in this project and our vision, or not,” Raz finished.

When he ended, Del D’Elecampane waited a moment, then said, “That’s all.”

People stood still, then noise erupted.

Without really looking at him, as people clumped together and buzzed with news, Glyssa said, “About the Comosum ladies—”

That was the least of the news Jace’s brain was zipping around.

She said, “They are bringing something for you. I have been in communication with Gwydion Ash, the animal and Fam Healer. He has been very intrigued with Zem.”

More annoyance lit inside Jace. He turned and stared at Glyssa’s slightly dipped carroty head and nearly equally red cheeks. “For an extensive report on Zem, he has provided some meals—” she coughed and winced—“newly killed rodents of several kinds, and, uh, smaller birds—for Zem. The Comosums are bringing them in a special no-time.”

On Jace’s shoulder Zem puffed his feathers and snicked his beak in satisfaction. He leaned down and tugged a strand of Glyssa’s hair from her braid.
Thank you, FamWoman.

Now Glyssa met Jace’s eyes. “I love Zem, too. I am allowed to show that love.”

Yes, yes, yes!
Lepid bounced around them both.
Good food for Zem. I love Zem, too.

“Provided meals?” Jace kept his tone even.

“In a no-time.” Glyssa pursed her lips. “We will switch out the no-times. The one the Ashes are sending is specifically calibrated and designed for Fams.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this a septhour ago?”

She glanced around, people had separated into clumps. “Zem needs a good solution to his food problem
now.
And I like you in my tent.”

“And you like me asking for help.”

“Also true.”

Her chin came up, her eyes deepened into darker brown. “The ladies Comosums are . . . haughty. They will expect exceptional food. My friend, Camellia Darjeeling D’Hawthorn is sending me a food chest with temporary no-time spells. And the cost of
that
is because
she
loves
me.
”

And me!
Lepid said.

Glyssa’s face softened. “Yes.” She smiled slyly. “You are still welcome to eat whatever you like.” With a chuckle, she said, “And fast.”

“I could give a couple of meals to Myrtus Stopper for being kind to Zem,” Jace said.

She nodded. “That would be good.”

“And Symphyta.”

Glyssa’s mouth tightened, could she be a little jealous? “That would be very kind of you. She likes sweets, so maybe the desserts especially. If you want to keep some of the food from the contents, you’re welcome to do that, too.”

He didn’t have anywhere to put it.

“Right.”

“You won’t be leaving?” she said, then frowned as if she hadn’t meant to ask.

“I have the pay, from working with you and Maxima”—and from the damned digging, though that was the minimum—“to return. I’m not going,” he answered roughly. “But the Elecampanes were right before. This smear on my name could follow me wherever I go. I’ll be investing.” If he had enough gilt.

He looked at the cowards and the bored and the stups who’d gathered around the owners, taking them up on the return trip. So many other exciting options right here!

Across from them, Funa stamped her foot and appeared a little sulky, then perked up when Symphyta teasingly bumped her with a grin. “Guards, new blood. New men.”

“Oh, yes,” Funa hissed.

* * *

T
hat evening after dinner, Jace and Carolinia fed Zem and Jace stocked
the new no-time with very warm kills. The cat ate some of the good human food and then had taken herself off with a high and waving tail. Zem himself appeared better already since the cat and a competitive Lepid had made sure he was fed throughout the day and brought food for his no-time.

Lepid scratched at the dirt outside Jace’s door. The FamFox’s ears flattened to his head.
FamWoman is sad.

Now that he mentioned it, Jace realized some of the depression that pervaded him came through the bond from Glyssa.

Lepid fox lay down on the ground, and put his forepaws over his muzzle.
Water is leaking from her eyes.

Jace winced. His shoulders twitched.

Come help!
Lepid rose slowly to his feet, walked toward Jace with an ingratiating expression and licked his hand.
Help!

Jace actually shifted from foot to foot, one of the first things anyone taking self-defense or fighter training was told not to do, and he could usually control that. Not this time. “What makes you think I’d know what to do?”

Plleaaasssee.
Lepid sounded pitiful.
We helped you and Zem.

The FoxFam was good with laying on the guilt.
I’m sure Zem’s and your problems are worse than Glyssa’s.
Lepid let one ear stand up and rotate.
I am well, Glyssa is well. She is just sad.

Nothing Jace liked more than jollying up a crying woman.

You can help, I’m sure!

That’s because the fox was too young to know any better, Jace figured. He didn’t think the young fox had the patience to pester him until Jace caved. But the Fam was right, Glyssa had gone out of her way to help him.

Not as if Jace would be welcomed around the campfire, anyway. He rubbed his chest. “All right.”

I will stay here,
Zem said, eyes already closed.

Lepid ran ahead. Jace plodded after. When he got to Glyssa’s pavilion, he couldn’t see a thing, privacy spells shielded the windows and door. He paused.

Jace is here. He will help you! He will help us!
Lepid said along the bond that the fox and Jace shared with Glyssa. No choice, the fox had committed him. Jace knocked on the door. It took Glyssa a moment to answer—maybe she was cleaning up her tears? Maybe she was considering whatever problem she had and deciding Jace
couldn’t
help?

He became aware of the soft dark, the chirping of insects, the singing of night birds. Tonight the sky was clear with the galaxies that painted the Celtan sky bright and close, the twinmoons brilliant. Maybe there wasn’t a better place to be.

Glyssa opened the door, a figure in a thin summer robe with the light behind her outlining her body. He caught her fragrance and he knew he was in trouble.

Here he is! I brought him! I am a HERO and he will be a HERO, too!

She looked at Jace with an expression as doubtful as he felt.

Clearing his throat, he said, “What’s the problem?” He’d meant to be brusque but his mouth had gentled the words, pushed more after them. “How can I help?”

With a frown, she shook her head. “I don’t know if you can.” She stepped aside and let him in, gestured to the desk with Hoku’s journals spread out, sheets of papyrus and a writestick. Messy as he hadn’t expected her to be. Almost looked as if she couldn’t accomplish something.

Stupid idea.

“I don’t recall. Do you know the terms of my fieldwork? What I must accomplish to advance in my career?” she asked.

“No.”

“Oh. I didn’t discuss them with you as well as Maxima?”

“No.”

She scrubbed at her puffy face. He didn’t comment. With a sigh and drooping shoulders she walked over to one of the chairs at the far end of the sitting room, pointedly ignoring the desk.

“I have to record what’s going on in camp, and transcribe Hoku’s journals . . .” Glyssa was reluctant to tell Jace her failings.

He can HELP!
Lepid pressed, then went over to Zem’s chair and hopped up on it, tongue hanging out, encouraging.

“Looks like you might have a problem,” Jace said, took the few steps to the desk and stared at her and the mess of papyrus and writestick. “Huh. Thought you were expert in everything.”