Heart Thief (31 page)

Primrose tugged a rag knot from her basket beside Ailim's desk, and worried it with pointy little teeth.
Man came. New smells.
She stuck out her tongue and wrinkled her face.
Nasty.

“Residence,” she said.

“Here,” it replied in her ancestor's calm voice.

“Lock, guard, and alarm all the doors to the HouseHeart and my suite.”

“Done,” said the Residence.

“Augment all illusions that camouflage the hidden doors to the secret passageways.”

“T'Elder is aware of the large passage bisecting the Residence.”

Ailim drummed her fingers on her desk. That particular passage was common knowledge.

The Residence said, “GrandMistrys Menzie SilverFir Cohosh admitted T'Elder and led him to Donax Reed's tower through the inner hallway.”

Ailim sighed. “Don't spell the halls and doors Menzie is aware of. She doesn't know more than most Family members, does she?”

“She is unaware of the doors FirstSon Ruis Elder uses.” That jolted Ailim. When she didn't reply, the Residence continued. “I was assured before he came that he is acceptable to you. His Nullness is discomfiting, but tolerable. Do you confirm his access? I can alert you or the guardsmen when I first feel his presence upon the edges of the estate.”

“Ruis Elder is welcome here.”

“As you say, D'SilverFir.”

“Mention his visits, past or future, to no one.”

“Your order is acknowledged.”

“Residence, can you replay the conversation between Donax and T'Elder in the chamber assigned to Donax?”

“Not possible. The Captain of the Council invoked a hush spell. Words did not reverberate to my walls or floors or ceilings.”

“Are any images available of the two men in the last septhour?”

“No. They entered a cone of light, then bespelled darkness outside the cone.”

“Thank you.”

“I will keep in contact with T'Elder Residence. It is a haughty House, like its owners, but it will share minimal information.”

“I didn't know that Residences shared information.”

“It is a relatively new process. We did not have the means or know how to communicate until taught by
Nuada's Sword.
”

The notion stunned Ailim. “The starship?”

“Yes. It approached us and set up a network. Despite the fact that our basic energy and fuel is the psi-Flair of our Families, and the technology built on that, we still have ancient systems that correspond to the Ship's science.”

Ailim tried to bend her thoughts around this news and what it might mean, but didn't have enough information.

Primrose distracted Ailim.
Love YOU.

“I love you, too.” And she came dangerously close to loving Ruis Elder—a futile love, bound to break both their hearts if he cared as much as she.

Just the thought of his long fingers caressing her heated her blood. She should make him go, stay far from her and her life, but she couldn't. If her Family had been even a little supportive . . .

She had been a good, dutiful, responsible person. Now she struggled with all her might to save the Family, to reform the finances, to lead them into a better future. Was she never going to have something for herself? Was she never going to have one shining, reckless moment in her life? And she knew, with all the Flair that had been bred into her genes through the centuries, that she would never meet another man who would affect her like Ruis, who would encourage her to be free, who would look at Ailim and see Ailim, not D'SilverFir. Who would treat her like a desirable woman for herself alone.

Primrose flopped over so Ailim could rub her tummy. She opened her big, brown eyes wide and made them mournful. S
ick today. No more Catfood. D'Ash told Canadena
.

“Poor puppy, you need a treat.” Ailim got a brush from her bottom desk drawer.

Brush me! Yes, yes, yes. Me be beau-ti-ful.
She sat, then moved for Ailim to groom her. She tried a small rumble, then a series of yips.

Ailim finished one last sweep of the golden coat and shook her brush at Primrose. “Stop that.”

Me purring
.

“You've been spending too much time with cats.”

Ailim smiled, until an insinuating feeling crept over her. Loud thoughts rapped at her mindshields, thoughts that attempted to hide themselves. She caught a tinge of danger, a broad flash of greed, and glanced at the holo above the desk, showing the hallway outside Donax's rooms. His door opened. Bucus and Donax stepped out, wearing identical smirks. A few minutes later they were at her door.

Ailim rose to her feet, shook out her dress and adjusted the long sleeves. She glanced down at Primrose. “You can hide or not as you please.”

The puppy cocked her head, letting her tongue loll.
me not hide. me be Fam, good companion.

Ailim clenched her hands and opened them, saying a Word to release her disquiet.

When Donax knocked, she bade them enter. Bucus T'Elder's eyes gleamed with calculation as he scanned the ResidenceDen, tallying the value of every stick of furniture. His sharp stare narrowed as he looked through the windows at the moat and the large, rolling green lawns of the estate.

Ailim curtsied. T'Elder sucked in his gut. She made the formal gesture simply because she didn't want to offer her hand.

He nodded. “I thought it was time to review the D'SilverFir estate. It has been some years since I've had a tour, and now with the loan . . .”

“Of course.” She smiled politely, seething that Bucus took advantage of her absence. “I didn't know the FirstFamilies Council wanted a tour. Are you the sole representative?”

“Yes.”

Ailim gestured to Primrose. “My Fam, Primrose.”

His gaze lingered on Primrose. He smiled and the puppy shrank into the folds of Ailim's skirts.

“A Fam,” he said smoothly. “I hadn't thought of a Fam for my own before.”

Ailim kept a smile on her face as she picked Primrose up. “Telepathically bonded animals can be a comfort. I'm sure D'Ash would be pleased to find a good Fam for you,” Ailim lied.

His fleshy features solidified into a rigid expression. “Fams. From D'Ash, of course.”

“GreatSir Reed must have reported on our financial progress. We are all very pleased to be ahead of schedule in our recovery,” Ailim said.

“Hmmph,” grunted T'Elder. “I saw the latest reports of the other four D'SilverFir estates.”

“They're very good. I'm sure you approve of our progress. Was your tour satisfactory?”

“I saw enough.”

Enough to estimate their assets, their finances, their standard of living, and the current inhabitants of the Residence.

She squared her shoulders. One last thing to do. She mentally contacted Caltha.
Ready?

As I'll ever be
, came the reply and the feel of Caltha straightening her spine.

Ailim smiled.
Get used to it. I'll meet you in the GreatHall in two minutes
.

Thirteen

Ailim had the image of Caltha swishing through her bedroom
door in her most elegant gown—the one purchased for the D'SilverFir Loyalty Ceremony. Caltha hoped T'Elder would be man enough not to notice she'd worn it before.

May you live a long, long life
, grumbled Caltha.

At the loud voices of the men, signifying the private meeting was over, the rest of the Residence inhabitants converged on Bucus T'Elder and Donax. Canadena, holding her kitten, hovered on the edge of the group. All were dressed in their best—this year's costly fashions.

“I hope you found everything to your liking,” Aunt Menzie simpered. “It isn't easy making do on a strict budget.” Her smile might have been meant to be indulgent. It looked sour.

Donax stiffened at insult to his financial cunning.

T'Elder grumbled, “The way this household ran through gilt a year ago was criminal. No thought to the future. Only interested in present gratification.”

Cona batted her eyelashes at T'Elder and Donax. “A woman feels better when luxuries surround her—more loving. We are a FirstFamily, after all. We have tastes and standards Commoners can't appreciate.”

Ailim grit her teeth. She replied only to T'Elder's remark. “Our gains are heartening. Thank you for sending us Donax.”

Steps echoed from the marble stairway. Ailim crossed to the end of the GreatHall and held out a hand to Caltha. Caltha joined hands and they returned to the others.

“I want to make known to all of you, my choice of Heir Caltha of Woodpine, former Lady of Woodpine estate on the Huckleberry Finn River.”

For an instant there was stunned shock.

“Heir!” Cona shrieked. “I'm your heir!”

Caltha ignored the outburst, curtsying to T'Elder.

“Ailim, you must be—” Aunt Menzie started.

Quiet!
commanded Ailim telepathically, following it with a disciplinary mind-shock.

Menzie's words strangled in her throat; her eyes bulged. The SilverFir men stirred uneasily and Canadena faded up the stairs.

T'Elder bowed jerkily to Caltha. He eyed her bountiful charms with approval, then looked at Cona. “The Council, too, was under the impression that GrandMistrys Cona SilverFir was your heir, Ailim.”

She met his eyes limpidly. “You know yourself, T'Elder, that people don't always choose Heirs. Oracles do at birth, Flair does at other times.”

“I've seen enough,” Bucus T'Elder said and left.

 
 
Ailim was listening to SpaceMusic, petting Primrose and
dozing in the waning day when the Residence spoke. “Menzie SilverFir has left the building.”

Ailim hopped off her bed. “Does she have the amulet?”

“Yes, the great evil energy of the bane travels with her.”

“Has she crossed the drawbridge yet?”

“No.”

“Follow her progress by scry as long as possible.” Ailim ran to her closet and pulled on her old riding trous and heavy travel tunic. It fell to her knees but was cut up the sides for easy movement. Swearing, she hunted for her battered walking boots in the messy tumble of shoes Primrose had made of the bottom of her closet.

Primrose darted into the closet and began tugging out footwear. Ailim swore under her breath.

“Most of the far-scry stones in the estate and linked to the Residence are not in working order. The spells were not renewed,” Residence said.

Every second counted. “Boots!” she cried, holding out her hands. The tough furraleather footwear smacked into her palms. With each little use of Flair, her energy diminished.

“I thought the various far-scrys were set for renewal in a cyclical manner.” She grunted as she tugged on her boots.

“They have not been renewed for the last three years. Therefore three sets are out of commission.”

“Cave of the Dark Goddess!” Ailim stomped until the worn leather cupped her feet. She let out a little moan, they felt so much better than the fancy shoes she'd been wearing.

Primrose panted, tongue hanging, before Ailim.
me go too!

Ailim closed her eyes, sought the simple puppy mind.
Sleep.
She sent the order low and soothing. Primrose yawned and circled herself, dropping into sleep. Ailim put her on the bed.

Glancing at the windows, Ailim asked, “Where's Menzie?”

“She proceeds northwest. She stumbles often.”

Toward the small fir forest, the boundary with T'Elder.

“Project a grid so I can 'port close, extrapolate her path and destination.”

“It is noted that your energy levels are low.”

“Project the grid!” She darted back to the closet and belted her emergency pouch around her waist. Digging out a knit hat, she jammed it on her head and swirled a travel cape around her. The layers and her fear made her sweat.

A topographical map of the grounds shimmered before her, along with blue gridlines that she could use to mind-fix a place for teleportation. A red, weaving dot denoting Menzie wavered northwest. Toward the big black jagged line.

“She's heading toward the fault in the earth.” Ailim's hands shook as she pressed the fastening tabs down the front of her cloak. “Residence and ResidenceLibrary link, I have a question.”

“Here,” said the deeper voice of the combined entities.

“Does Menzie's amulet have the power to affect the earth fault?”