Heart Journey (37 page)

She was sitting up on his lap, staring at the switch.
I can’t SEE it.

“It’s the same color as the console. You don’t need to see it. You don’t need to know it is there; most people forget that it is there.” He held her up to stare in her eyes. “If you’d had your webshield on, you would have been fine, even with a hard stop.” Then he cradled her next to his chest. “Hear my heartbeat? You scared me, Rosemary. Please don’t do that again.”

Del leaned against Raz, gazed down at the kitten’s wide yellow eyes. “You scared me, too. Are you all right? Will we need to take you to D’Ash for an exam when we return to Druida?”

Del figured that would be the answer.

A snorting, hiccupping sound came and Del felt paws on her leg. Outside the vehicle, Shunuk chortled.
Glider going smooth, then bump, then down! Very funny.

“I’m glad you think so.”

Del sighed. “No, it isn’t.” She was a much better rider than a driver and decided that would always be true.

 

 

R
az had spent the rest of the afternoon arranging the viz and interacting
with the theater manager, crew, and actors. When he returned to the house they rearranged the new furniture and ate a simple meal. Raz had stocked the no-times as soon as they were repowered. Rosemary grumbled about furrabeast bites instead of caviar and then vomited from the excitement of attending the theater.

The play was wonderful, capturing Del’s attention from the moment the curtain raised and Captain Bountry walked out on stage. The holos behind him that showed infinite space made her shiver.

Backstage was equally fascinating. Del liked Raz’s friend, Trillia, very much and praised her acting, though Del also sensed that the two had been lovers. When Trillia plucked Rosemary from Raz’s shoulder and beamed a smile at Del and said, “You don’t mind giving Raz and me and this wonderful kitten a septhour to catch up, do you?” Del could only smile back. “No, I don’t mind.” She kissed Raz’s cheek and strolled away.

Shunuk?
she called mentally.

I am here in front of the theater. Only six theaters around this oval, not like Druida.
He sniffed. Del’s insides tightened. She hoped her Fam wasn’t turning into a snobbish city fox. If worse came to worse, she couldn’t bear to lose both Raz and Shunuk.

She went through the outer doors into the warm night with other stragglers and found the fox sitting under a spotlight, appearing a whole lot sleeker than when they’d ridden into Steep Springs. He
looked
like a city fox, well fed, groomed, bushy tail. He’d had the aspect of a trail fox and dangerous predator before.

People were smiling approval at him and he waved his tail at them.

His eyes narrowed.
You are a little sad.

All this time in cities is wearing on me.
She rubbed her arms.

I will not leave you.
He hopped to his paws and licked her hand as she bent and stroked his head.

His eyes slid slyly toward her as she straightened.
But we may not be taking jobs a long way from the cities?

She didn’t know. Rolling her shoulders, she said, “I haven’t been downtown in Gael City for a while.” She grimaced. “It’s changed. Getting more ‘fashionable.’ Let’s walk.” An idea occurred to her. “No, let’s go check on my stridebeast.”

 

 

R
az thanked the viz techs and took the spheres they’d recorded, then
followed Trillia to her dressing room. She stopped at the door and preened a little. “My first star.”

It was brass inset on an old oak door. He kissed her temple. “You deserve it.”

“I do.” Opening the door, she went to the dressing table and set Rosemary down, then Trillia stared at herself in the mirror, running her hands over her face to dispel the enhancement spells for her last scene. She fluffed out her hair and it turned from deep black to her natural midbrown.

“You didn’t tint your hair?”

“I didn’t want to. Thank you for arranging for the viz and smooth-talking the stage manager into it.” She gave a little sigh, put Rosemary on her lap, and swiveled on the stool to face Raz instead of meeting his gaze in the mirror. “I’m excellent in the part and I’d like those in Druida to see it. My Family, too.”

“It’s mainly for
Nuada’s Sword.
”

“The Ship.” Her teeth were very white when she smiled; she began to pet Rosemary. “Good for it. But my Family has connections, one of them will see it.” A small line etched between her brows.

“You’re frowning,” Raz said.

She smoothed her face out, but her eyes were serious now. “I know that Druida is where the action is, the best parts, where I should focus my career, but I really like Gael City. Well, not the city so much, but the . . . I guess you’d say the pace.” She shrugged. “Or maybe it’s the freedom. Things, circles, are not as stratified here.” She made a wavy motion. “It’s more fluid.” Inhaled deeply. “It would be easier to play different parts here, less typecasting. It’s just a question of how to handle my career. Staying here and being a big fish in a small pond or rising through the levels until I’m a star in Druida. Maybe a balancing act until I feel my reputation is such that I can jump back as a star. But I like being on my own, too, not always having to satisfy Family expectations.”

You need to pet Me more,
Rosemary said since Trillia had stopped during her unburdening.

Trillia laughed and rubbed the tiny head with her forefinger. “You are precious, Rosemary.” She winked at Raz. “She is perfect for you and will be an excellent theater cat. I do like you, Rosemary, and Raz is lucky.”

Yes,
Rosemary agreed.

“And I like Raz very much, too.” Trillia jumped to her feet and flung an arm around his neck and gave him a smacking kiss. “And I think your HeartMate is perfect for you, too.”

“Del Elecampane. She’s a very nice lady and an excellent contrast in character to you.”

“She’s not my HeartMate.”

“Of course she is.” Trillia pulled back and looked at his frozen face. “Uh-oh.”

Of course Del is,
Rosemary said, hooking her claws into Raz’s tunic and climbing up to his shoulder.

Dread washed through him. He’d known for a long time but hadn’t wanted to admit it, had willfully been blind to it. Now the words and confirmation were out from another’s lips—mind—and he could only deny it.

Trillia stepped back from him. “What’s wrong? She’s a great lady.”

“She’s eight years older than me.” It shouldn’t have continued to bother him, it didn’t . . . but it was the rationalization that sprang to his mind to keep himself from believing she was his HeartMate, the block he’d used.

“Really? She doesn’t look it. She’s in very good shape. And that’s still plenty young.” Trillia wiggled her brows. “And I’ve heard that older women only get better in bed. Certainly true of older men.”

Raz couldn’t prevent a flush.

“Interesting.” Trillia shook her head. “Del Elecampane.”

“She’s a GrandHouse lady.”

Shrugging, Trillia went to the screen in the corner and began undressing from her last costume of a ship’s uniform. Rosemary hopped down from his shoulder to explore the room.

Trillia said, “You’re the only son of a GrandHouse”—she peeked around the screen—“and from what I understand of the strata of nobles in Druida, in Celta, your Family is higher up the social scale than hers. Than my GraceHouse, too.” She ducked back, then came out in a comfortable onesuit a few seconds later.

Blackness edged his vision. Now that he admitted that Del was his HeartMate, bad choices loomed. His knees were locked, his hands fisted, and there was a distant panic that he was going to lose and the loss would be hard.

“What’s wrong?” Trillia crossed the small dressing room to a twoseat and perched on the arm.

Raz licked dry lips, stared in her general direction but didn’t meet her gaze. “Del Elecampane is a
cartographer.
”

Another shrug. “Even I know that.”

“A cartographer who is often on the trail. Always on the trail. Far away from Druida or any other city.” His chest was tight. He wasn’t breathing right. He settled into his balance and began a good cycle of counted breaths.

Trillia gave him a three cornered smile. “You could be a traveling player.”

Wincing, Trillia said, “Sorry, bad joke.”

“I will not leave Druida. I have my career to think of. I don’t
want
to leave Druida.”

“Plans change. Mine did,” Trillia said.

Raz opened his mouth, shut it.

“Good,” Trillia said. “I think you were about to insult me.” She came close and stared up at him. “Del could move to Druida.”

He meant to shake his head, but his whole body jerked, he was so stiff. He’d risen from his grounded balance and hadn’t even noticed. His body had betrayed him, after all the long training. Is this what he had to look forward to with a HeartMate? Being completely off balance? Again he softened his knees. “Del has problems in the city. She’s become pale, lost some weight.” Other things he hadn’t wanted to notice or admit. “She’s sleeping less, more restless.”

Trillia pursed her lips. “Just not a city person.”

“No.”

Her chest rising and falling with her own deep breaths, Trillia nodded. “All right,” she said with a calm that he never associated with her. She tilted her head. “What did you plan to do next with your career?”

Raz felt like he was standing on a narrow bridge spanning a chasm; either way he fell would be terrible. He pulled his thoughts together and spoke from cold lips. “Johns and I have discussed this new play of Amberose’s; we’re hoping—”

“A new play by Amberose.” Trillia clasped her hands and held them to her breasts. “Really?”

One more deep breath and he was on solid ground, wouldn’t think about it right now. Later. As he’d been putting off “later” for so long.

“Yes.” He eyed Trillia. “Two male parts, two female, I think.” He frowned. “But Johns knows better. We heard Amberose’s agent contacted Lily Fescue, too.”

“Lily,” Trillia said darkly. She flopped back down on the twoseat, captured one of the cushions to squeeze.

“Scry Johns,” Raz said. “Maybe, if we’re approached, we can drop your name.”

“Thanks.”

A knock came at the door.

“Who’s there?” asked Trillia, but Raz already knew. Del. He wasn’t ready to see her. He could call on all his acting ability to be “natural,” but both of the women—and his Fam, and Shunuk—would know he acted. So he had to be himself and right now he didn’t want to be with her.

“Del Elecampane,” Del said.

Trillia glanced at him, then said, “Come in.”

Del strode in with the hint of a smile on her face. “Have a good talk—” Her face closed down as she caught the mood.

“We were just discussing Amberose’s new play,” Raz said as Shunuk came in.

“A lot of that going around.” She glanced at him.

Rosemary took that moment to leap onto Shunuk from the counter, he shook her off, and Del jumped and caught the flying kitten before she hit the dressing room mirror. She cradled the cat.

I got you,
Rosemary said to Shunuk.

Shunuk rolled his back and ignored her.

“What’s that smell?” Trillia wrinkled her nose.

Del said, “Stridebeast. I have one stabled here.”

“Oh,” Trillia said.

 

 

T
he short glider trip from the theater to his Family’s place was taut
with tense silence between Raz and Del.

Instinctively, he’d narrowed the bond between them. Shock and grief and anger had rolled through the thread from her. She was stiff beside him and had a mask on. Trying to hide her feelings from him, as he was trying to hide his own shock and fear and anger . . . and grief. They sat, nearly vibrating with emotions that they weren’t talking about. It might have been amusing if he hadn’t felt so wretched, for himself and her.

When they returned to T’Cherry estate, they got another shock. Straif was sprawled out in a large chair drinking good alcohol and three guardsmen awaited them—none of whom Raz had met before.

“What’s wrong?” Raz asked.

Straif looked at him, impassive. “I found your man.”

Raz tensed, then deliberately relaxed his muscles. “Oh?”

“Not good,” Del said quietly.

“Not really. He’s dead.” Tossing back his drink, Straif sucked in a breath, then stood. The guards did, too. “I’ve told these gentlemen as much as I know. I’m sure that the petty criminal was murdered by the other man. All the signs point that way. The other guy was the one in charge. Don’t know if he’s the person behind all this.” Straif’s nose twitched. “I’m inclined to think he isn’t. His clothes and his personal smell don’t quite match, like he lives in someone else’s House.”