Heart Fortune (Celta) (6 page)

Glyssa nodded. “I can understand being wary of Laev. My best friend, Camellia Darjeeling, was sucked into his orbit a few months ago and suddenly here I am.”

They laughed at that.

“Not that I don’t have a burning curiosity.” She glanced at the huge outline on the ground, under which they believed
Lugh’s Spear
rested.

“I’ve heard your curiosity is as hot as your hair,” Raz teased.

He was one to talk, his own hair was auburn.

I am red, too,
Lepid said, looking at them.
And I am a hero. I opened up a new room and a hallway.

They all stared at him.

“‘Fools rush in,’” Raz murmured as if quoting, though Glyssa didn’t recognize the words or the source.

“What did you see down there, fox?” asked Del.

BOXES! And a room! And a hallway!

“Boxes,” Glyssa breathed, sharing a glance with Raz and Del.

Del took work gloves from her belt and slapped them on her thigh. “I’d better order some security around the hole. And we’ll move the work there?” she asked her HeartMate.

“Absolutely,” Raz said.

Lepid gave one more yip, danced the few steps along the duffle, then curled up and dropped into sleep.

“Young ones,” Del said indulgently. She aimed her gaze at the hole. “You said you’re friends with Camellia Darjeeling?” she asked Glyssa.

“Since grovestudy days.”

“Huh. Camellia Darjeeling, who’s now D’Hawthorn, helped us with the general blueprints,” Del said.

“More.” Glyssa angled her pursenal. “Camellia has finally parted with copies of the last Captain’s, Netra Sunaya Hoku’s, journals.”

Raz and Del came to a stop, both staring at Glyssa. “You have them in there?” Del asked.

“Yes.”

Del eyed her. “You might be worthwhile after all.”

Raz bumped his HeartMate with his hip. “Helena D’Elecampane!”

“Thank you,” Glyssa said. “I am humbled by your opinion. I will endeavor to live up to it.” She dug into her bag and handed over copies of the original journals for the Elecampanes. She had a set of her own.

“Not much here,” Del grumbled.

“The last Captain was awakened from the cryonics tubes to pilot the ship down. The journals provide great insights into the last days of the journey, the ship life—rather militaristic—and the previous Captain.” Glyssa cleared her throat. “And as your own ancestor, the original D’Cherry, stated in her own diaries, Hoku was fond of maps.”

Del stared at the papyrus, then glanced back toward the communications equipment. Sighing, she gestured to Raz to take the journals. “You look through the journals. Get Maxima, our daughter,” she explained to Glyssa, gesturing to a small band of people in the distance, “in on it, too.” She scanned Glyssa. “Hmmm. How’d you like an assistant? Maxima is interested in history and stuff.”

“Sounds good,” Glyssa lied.

After a sharp nod, Del walked back to the airship.

“We hadn’t anticipated that the communications equipment would be so large. Larger than the space we’d dedicated for it.” Raz shrugged. “Del will handle it.”

“I’m sure,” Glyssa said, falling into the easy pace he set as they moved toward the largest personal pavilion—not quite as large as what she reasoned was the mess tent farther down the large main pathway. “Del seems eminently efficient.”

“Yes, and she’s taken over the technical side of things, though she does love her maps.”

“Her maps and charts are prized by the librarians,” Glyssa offered.

“She’ll never give up her cartographic career, though it is not as important to her—to us—as this project right now.” Raz lit with an inner fire that Glyssa thought was all sincerity, no actor’s show. “Imagine, uncovering the last starship! The wonders within, the knowledge we will discover about Earth and our ancestors.” He pulled his mind from whatever visions spun in that creative head of his and gave himself a shake, aimed another charismatic smile at her. “And most of our team believe as we do, are as fascinated by the project as we are. One of the factors we considered when hiring, for instance, Jace Bayrum.” Raz’s eyes twinkled. He was an observant people person, all right.

They’d reached the Elecampane’s pavilion and Raz moved toward an open area a couple of meters away. “This is your spot. We’ll talk later,” he said with a quick grin that was even more charming because it seemed more sincere. “About Captain Hoku, your duties, the excavation, the communications equipment. Everything.”

“Thank you for this opportunity,” Glyssa said. Weariness from her restless night before, the trip, the dazzling first sight of Jace, and the scare by Lepid began to weigh down on her.

“You’re welcome,” Raz said. “I think we will all work well together.” He took her hand and bowed over it with the most grace she’d ever experienced, including Laev who’d been drilled in FirstFamilies etiquette. When Raz straightened, he said, “Jace Bayrum is one of us, a believer in our quest.” Raz paused. “However, I do not think Andic Sanicle or Funa Twinevine have that in common with us.”

A delicate warning. Glyssa nodded. “Thank you.”

“Midafternoon tea will be served in a few minutes, feel free to join us in the dining tent.” With a last wave, he loped to his pavilion and disappeared, leaving Glyssa staring at a large area of cleared ground.

She stiffened her spine, not letting herself droop. The sun beat down on her, hot and affirming that she and her loved ones were alive—but also adding sticky sweat to her weariness. There weren’t as many trees as she’d expected . . . cleared for the excavation, a wide meadow turned into a camp, surrounded by green and cool forests. She’d seen that as they landed, the width of the wide land between Fish Story Lake and the Deep Blue Sea.

With a touch on her duffle, she lowered it to the ground. Then she bent over and lifted Lepid, moving him to some cushy-looking ground cover she couldn’t identify. Not many Earthan-Celtan hybrids here, she didn’t think. Her own FamFox wriggled around a little, releasing a pleasant herbal tang into the air from his bedding, snuffled, but didn’t wake. Good.

Eyeing the duffle, she figured out the opening mechanism was a simple slip-tab spell and ran her finger down the seam, saying a soft spellword. The bag yawned wide and showed a lot of unfamiliar items. Taking up a third of the area was a small no-time food storage unit. Glyssa stared. Her own personal no-time. She’d bet the last silver sliver of her salary that it was fully stocked. Amazing.

She took out the top object, four round sticks about the length of her hand with a wrapping of gossamer material. Heavy Flair spells clung to the thing, but she had no idea what it was or what to do with it.

More than the sun made her hot. She knew people were watching and the flush of embarrassment and irritation rose to her skin. Her cheeks must be red. She fought back tired, cranky, feeling-
stupid
tears.

Her HeartMate wanted to pretend they were strangers.

Six

J
ace accepted claps on his shoulder and congratulations at saving the
fox—and intense looks of envy that he’d been down again into the ship. Then Del Elecampane crisply asked for volunteers and people left him for the new communications equipment or for their own business.

His gaze went to Glyssa again and he saw Raz T’Elecampane walk away from her.

Jace was torn. He wanted to see—and put his hands on—the new equipment. But he also wanted to spend a little time with—and put his hands on, a lot—Glyssa Licorice.

And, yeah, he’d like to see what was in that duffle from Outside Outfitters, probably the latest in camping equipment. With his usual curiosity, he wondered what that looked like. Maybe he needed to know—a good rationalization.

Emotions churned inside him, aided by the dump of adrenaline in chasing the fox down to the corridor of
Lugh’s Spear
, the discovery of the rooms, the near loss of the fox and the triumphant return. Maybe that’s why his pulse surged when he’d seen her.

He wasn’t quite sure
what
he felt about her being here. Resentment that she’d shown up as if she were following him? Couldn’t be. She hadn’t appeared last year. Though he—they?—had been having those sex dreams.

Eh, he didn’t want to think of his emotions, he’d figure them out later. His gaze was drawn to her, probably something that would happen often since her hair shone red and coppery in the sun.

When she stared flushed and furious at the small package she held, shaking the compacted pavilion in her hands, he sauntered over. She sure did smell good.

“Can I help?” he asked.

She scowled at him, her prettily arched cinnamon brows wrenched down. Her lips flattened—they looked so much nicer when she smiled—before she said primly, “Yes, please.” She angled her head as if she suspected he was laughing at her.

He kept his smug smile from showing and held out his hand.

He must not have been as expressionless as he’d thought since she smacked the sticks and the thin gauze into his palm.

“Not done much outside living?” he asked, unrolling the gauze from the Flaired set-up sticks. Such compact equipment. Nice.

“No,” she said.

“This is your pavilion.” He bent down and tapped one stick into the hard ground with an anchor spell.

“That!”

She sounded so disbelieving he glanced up at her with a smile. “You need to get out of your library more often, Red.”

She sniffed, tapped her foot, then crouched down beside him. “Tell me how to help, and how it works.”

“We’ve got curiosity in common,” he said, rising and unrolling the line of gauze to the next stick. A lot of gauze, a huge pavilion.

“Yes.” She followed him, and smiled. The tension line between her brows released. Maybe she liked looking at him as much as he liked looking at her.

“This is a Flaired pavilion, built mostly of magic.”

“Hmmm.”

“You noticed how much Flair it contained?”

“Oh, yes, my hands tingled.”

“I’d say the spell is funded for at least a year.”

“A year!”

He cocked a brow at her. “Someone wanted to make sure it didn’t fail. Good security spells, too, so you’ll be safe. Someone imbued it with a lot of power.” He took the next stick from her and tapped it down.

“That would be GreatLord Laev T’Hawthorn,” she said. Jace scowled at the idea of another man doing so much for her—until he saw her staring at his backside.

“GreatLord T’Hawthorn?” Jace prompted. This had to be her FirstFamily noble connection, and what a connection—with one of the richest men on the planet.

“Um,” she said, then smiled shyly at him, palm out for the third stick. “Can I unroll it?”

“Sure. You call him Laev?” Jace couldn’t let the mention of another man stand as it was.

She began to unroll the gauze on the ground, stopped every few steps to make sure it was perfectly straight. Looked like the pavilion was a boring rectangle to Jace. He’d have gone for an octagon or something.

“Laev is one of my best friend’s husband and HeartMate,” she said. She bent down to move a rock out of the way of the gauze. “Camellia Darjeeling.” Again Glyssa smiled. “More like a sister to me.”

He finally recognized the name in connection with Glyssa. When he and Glyssa had spent that long weekend together, they hadn’t talked much. But she had mentioned her friends, like now. He’d forgotten their names.

He recalled that he and Glyssa had just had sex and ate and slept a little and had sex again. No. Don’t think of that. Don’t think of this nice large pavilion that must include a private bedroom, or what kind of bedsponge she might have.

She was taking twice the time to run the line of gauze than he had. Usually he’d get impatient, and was a bit surprised that he wasn’t. He enjoyed her company, just being with her, not quite soothing, but she didn’t irritate him with excessive energy, either. They seemed to match.

She stopped. “Did we put the door on the south? I don’t like a south-facing door. I prefer an east-facing door. I like morning sunlight.”

Jace grit his teeth as he stared at the lines they’d run. He knew enough about Flaired gauze to understand it had to be handled carefully. Even top-of-the-pyramid stuff, like this.

“If you set the door to the east, you’ll face the Elecampane’s tent and not the main path through the camp,” he said.

Her chin set stubbornly.

He gestured to the gauze. “And working with that stuff, winding and unwinding, can get messy. One of the reasons the Elecampanes went with old-fashioned Flaired-canvas.”

She pouted. “Oh.” But she didn’t go on unrolling the line, just looked at what they’d laid out.

Jace suppressed the urge to walk away and let her deal with the setup on her own. “I don’t know about the latest in these sorts of pavilions, but I heard that the best have an option to determine windows as needed.”

“Oh!” She brightened, sighed a little, then shook her head. “Laev bought all the gear. We Licorices do not believe in spending such gilt on our persons.”

Her Family had been nobles since the second generation of colonists, they must have money, and they didn’t use it to make their lives more comfortable? Jace’s brows rose but he kept his mouth shut.

Glyssa looked toward her duffle that must contain wonderful stuff. “There should be instructions in there on how to make windows.”

“I can help you with that,” Jace said.

She nodded and began her slow, picky, progress again. He heard shouts of satisfaction from the area set aside for the new communications instruments—what looked like a series of small, thin wire grids. “Rumors have it that we will be testing a new communications system.”

“Oh, yes,” Glyssa said. “Laev is working with
Nuada’s Sword
and Dani Eve Elder, a commander of that Ship, to put an artificial satellite into orbit around Celta, based on ancient Earthan data, since our Celtan science is not like the old tech.”

Jace stopped. “Put equipment into space!”

“Yes.” Glyssa stopped frowning at the straight line of gauze and looked up at him with a smile. “Curious?”

“Oh, yeah!”

She sighed. “I’m sure that
Nuada’s Sword
will viz the launch of the satellite for all of the city of Druida, and maybe the closer towns, to see.”

“We’ll miss it,” Jace said, disappointed.

“Yes, we will.” She handed him the next peg and he set it in the ground, repeated the spell aloud for her so she could do the last one on her own.

Glyssa stared at the outline of
Lugh’s Spear
. “This ship wasn’t sentient like
Nuada’s Sword.
”

“No, a pity,” Jace said.

“You think?” She shook her head. “I don’t. How horrible it would have been for the ship to have known it was dying . . . that no one could save it. None of the colonists had the means to rescue it.”

Jace shuddered. “Hadn’t thought of it that way. Trapped and unable to be saved. Terrible, all right.”

She’d stopped when he’d kept going and his step brought him close to her. Closer than any but lovers should be. He took a pace away, didn’t like how his heart leapt when his body had brushed hers. He thought he saw disappointment in her face.

Glyssa
was
disappointed. Reluctantly she placed the last small spike, pointed end down, checked twice to make sure it was in line with all the other corners, and murmured the raising spell. The gauze stretched to two-meter-high walls, took on a purple tint—Laev T’Hawthorn’s color—as they became opaque. There was even a pointed top to the pavilion and what appeared to be vents. Occasional markings showed and as she studied them, she saw that they looked like spaces for windows.

Even as she turned to Jace, he’d walked to the eastern side, narrowed his gaze, and dragged his finger in a rectangle high in the tent wall where the sun would angle as it rose.

Lepid jumped to his feet, shook himself out and yipped, running straight into the door opening.

Our space! Ours! It is a big tent!

“A pavilion,” Glyssa corrected automatically. She went to the door, gestured for Jace.

He tucked his fingers into his belt, rocked back on his heels and shook his head.

Her smile faded and her jaw clenched, but she pushed through the light shield of the door—had Laev tuned it for her and Lepid? Amazing Flair—to see her FamFox prancing around.

It is big for the camp,
he said,
but not as big as our house or our library.

He leapt up and she caught him in her arms, snuggling with him, and took him on the very short tour. The pavilion was nothing short of impressive. It actually had
three
rooms. An outer room like a sitting room, complete with space for the no-time food storage unit, a bedroom only slightly smaller, and her very own tiny toilet and waterfall room. What luxury. When Laev T’Hawthorn bought something, it was the most lavish item possible.

She went back out to exclaim her pleasure to Jace, and see what other furnishings might be in the huge bag, but he was gone. Dammit!

And she barely saw him the rest of the day. She ate in the Elecampanes’ tent, discussing the new communications instrumentation and her duties, the new communications system and Maxima helping her,
Nuada’s Sword
launching the communications satellite, and the excavation.

By the time they were done hashing out the security for the new hole down to
Lugh’s Spear
, and the revised plan for earth removal from the site, night had fallen and she’d dragged herself and a snoozing Lepid into their pavilion . . . where she’d increased the size of the furniture and set it up, along with lovely rugs for the sitting room, and the latest in thick, portable bedsponges, big enough for the two of them, though her FoxFam headed for his own basket.

As a finishing touch, she hung the mobile containing a thousand colorful cranes she’d made a while back using her creative Flair for origami.

With the last spurt of Flair energy she had, she contacted Camellia telepathically.
I am here and doing well.

Lovely to hear!
Her friend sounded cheery, lively . . . well, it was a couple of hours earlier in Druida City. So strange, this time difference, something Glyssa had never had to consider or take into account before.

Is he as gorgeous as you remember?
asked Camellia.

More. Older, more muscles.
Glyssa laughed. She recalled her first glimpse of him that had dazzled her. He looked like a poet or a dreamer, narrow face with dark brown hair and deep auburn highlights . . . but, of course his bold and wild silver gray eyes gave him away.

He wasn’t a dreamer, more like a swashbuckler.

A wonderful word, ancient and Earthan. Glyssa rolled it in her mouth. Swashbuckler. She just wished it didn’t apply to her HeartMate. She didn’t think swashbucklers were all that stable as lovers. Well, she’d already found that out, hadn’t she?

Is he kind?
demanded Camellia.

More like dangerous, but Glyssa wouldn’t tell her friend that. Dangerously exciting. Camellia prized kindness in men.
He helped me set up the pavilion.

Oh, good!
Camellia said.

Glyssa yawned. Her weariness must have been transmitted along the sister-friendship-bond because Camellia said,
You’ve had a very long day. Thank you for letting me know all is well.

Welcome,
Glyssa said.
Merry meet and merry part.

And merry meet again, love you.

I love you, too. ’Night.

Her FoxFam gave a fake snore even as she petted him.

“Good night, Lepid,” she muttered as she changed into her nightgown and fell onto the bed, pulling up the thin and bespelled covering that wouldn’t keep her too warm or too cold.

Good night, FamWoman.

The last thing she said was, “I worry about you, please stay in the tent.”

* * *

H
elp! Help!
Something pawed at Jace. He opened his eyes to too-close
predator muzzle and bad FoxFam breath, sat up so the fox tumbled from his lap, felt the slightest dig of sharp claws in his groin and woke fast.