Lost Heart: A Celta Novella (Celta HeartMate Series) (10 page)

"
W
e left for a reason
," she pointed out, dreading the thought of returning.

"Let's go back in." He took a step, wobbled, and the muscles in his jaw bunched with teeth-set determination.

She stepped back so she could see all of his tall form, crossed her arms and studied him.

"You have a headache."

"Oh, yeah. Like hammers hitting my skull — inside and out." He winced, wiped a hand across his eyes and she saw perspiration coated his skin. "My gut feels bad, too.” He looked at the vault and snarled. "We
will
do this. Find out what is affecting you
and
me. Maybe any Licorice that comes into the vault, maybe any Librarian. You got any records as to who's accessed this vault since the beginning of the month?"

A veil of sickness seemed to separate her from the rest of the world, but she concentrated on his question. "Yes, upstairs in the library, but I don't think I have the strength to translocate that."

"We'll look at it later." His mouth set, and the hand he held out trembled. "This is a matter that
must
be handled, and we can do it, together."

"Yes, together." She took his hand and they entered the vault.

Four minutes later they stared at the floating volume.

"Reglis Licorice," Barton stated. "Corylus Hazel, Calluna Heather Hazel, HeartMates. All 'acquired.' Vanished from Druida City . . ."

"Vanished from memories," Enata said, voice thick.

"Wait!" Barton's eyes lit. "Wait." He sounded excited.

"What?"

His fingers fisted, then released. "My two relations are missing with no trace of them. I know all of these people have been nobles, but we Clovers are nobles, now. Do you think—"

"Perhaps."

He jerked a nod at the volume. "Let's look."

Drawing in a deep breath, she held it, counted a few seconds and released it. "Yes. We can do that."

Carefully, she turned the page away from the picture of her smiling brother, from the biography of his life and his list of skills, to the next page, placed her fingers on another sheet, folded it over. "Savi Clover, CHOSEN." She gasped and Barton swore, vilely.

Then he met her eyes. "It only says Savi."

"Yes."

"Then what happens to Balansa?"

"I don't know." Two fat tears rolled from her eyes. "When we leave this vault, we'll forget again, as everyone else has forgotten. Every time I leave, I've forgotten." The realization struck her so that she leaned over, hands on knees, shaking. Barton put his arm around her, raised her and she turned naturally into him. "Even D'Licorice HouseHeart has forgotten!" Needing to explain, even in this distress, words punctuated her sobs. "I was in the HouseHeart before our marriage two days ago and it talked about me becoming D'Licorice!"

"May your mother live a long, long life," Barton said fervently, with a note of humor in his voice that she cherished. This — him holding her, being tender with her, caring for her, showed she hadn't bungled their relationship too badly. He stroked her back and she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging close, then whispered, "What force could do that? Bespell all of our memories, even a HouseHeart's?"

"I don't know." His voice sounded hard. He took her wrists and moved a half-step away, touched under her chin and she looked up at him. "I don't know what person or monster could do, would do, such a terrible thing that hurt so many. But we will find out. For your brother and my cuzes."

She inclined her head. "Yes. For our loved ones."

He frowned, heavy brows dipping and she touched the line between his eyes, the soft skin there. "What?" she asked, sensing he thought of something else.

Slowly, he reeled out words as if he weighed an idea behind each one. "I have been fixated on Savi and Balansa. Even when Walker ordered me to leave the investigation alone, let them go, I could
not
. I've been obsessed." His body jerked in an explosive breath. "I didn't know them, lived on the far side of the compound than them. I concentrated on my immediate family, my guards, other charges. Didn’t paid any attention to Savi and Balansa – not enough attention, and that was our failure. That failure ate at me."

"And you think that might be another spell?"

"Maybe." He drew her close again, one arm around her, and they turned to watch the book still bobbing mid-air. "Or maybe there was the beginning of that compulsion to forget." With his free hand, he rubbed his temple. "Now that I think about it, I believe I can sense tendrils of forgetfulness softening my memories." His mouth quirked. "Maybe I'm just contrary and rebellious and fighting such a constraint."

A shiver trembled through Enata. "I
hate
being manipulated."

"Ah," Barton said, turned to face her, and kept his arms loosely around her waist. More tenderness flowed from him. "Yeah, we Clovers tend to have certain ideas and expectations of our Family members. The women did try to roll over you. I assure you that won't happen again."

"I won't let that happen again. Nor will I let your uncle Pink or your brother Walker dictate my place in your Family. I will make my own place."

Barton squeezed her. "Good."

She slid her hands up his chest, loving the feel of smooth skin over tough muscle under her palms. "I won't leave again, and I won't let you go."

His eyelids dropped over a glinting gaze, "I won't let you go, either. You are mine forever."

Her knees weakened, especially since a huge surge of love accompanied those words.

Then, with a sigh, they moved in unison to the book.

He glared down at the volume. Flicked a finger at it. "This bio info is all well and good, but where
are
they?"

She inhaled, closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, thinking. "Whatever has bespelled this tome hasn't let me move beyond the biographies."

"Yet," he growled. His jaw flexed, then he sent a sideways glance at her. "You've been in here often this month."

"Yes, nearly every night." Her voice caught. "And always I forget, then remember. It's horrible."

"It would be. But you learn a little more each time?"

"Yes. If I stay here long enough, I can move through the book. I can read all of the entries, now."

His eyes narrowed and his smile went sly. "Maybe it's a puzzle to be solved. The more often you come, and use it, the more you discover about it, you are rewarded."

"Perhaps," she said doubtfully, touched the thick pages stuck together at the back. "There should be an index back here."

"And a title page, too. What else do you know about this book?"

"I don't know."

"Think, FirstLevel Librarian."

"The cover," she finally said. "We know about the cover, and that gives us a clue to where the lost ones are!" She barely moved her fingers aside before Barton snapped the book shut. They stared at the dark blue leather cover. He touched the front. "Not furrabeast leather."

Enata shrugged, then tapped with her silver and gold nails on the outline of the map, the island off the coast. "This place is not on any other map of Celta. Not one." Her voice lowered. "The very first time I saw this volume, I'd been sent to retrieve the first copies of the maps taken by the starship
Nuada's Sword
as it entered our atmosphere, circled the planet and landed." Her finger shook. "This island isn't on those maps." She scooted over to a viz sphere, took it, set it in the air and tapped the glass to project a huge globe. They stared at the unblemished sea off the coast of the peninsula holding Druida City, then they looked at the book, with a map of the island.

"The last I heard of my cuzes was that they were at the docks. They'd taken a ship heading west." He rubbed his temples with thumb and forefinger. "Savi and Balansa are gone, but we haven't forgotten them, yet. Not me, nor Walker nor any of the other Clovers." He glanced at her. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

"We've been here long enough. The air in here is turning odd."

"If we leave, we'll forget."

"Will we? Something . . . someone wanted you to find this book. Has instilled compulsion in you and obsession in me. Now we've figured out about the Chosen, and where they might be. Maybe that's enough. I hope so." He tapped the globe and handed the viz back to her, took the closed book and pulled. Nothing happened. He let go, loosened his shoulder and back muscles, grabbed the book again and dragged with a steady pressure and enough effort that Enata saw all the muscles bunch under his tunic. The book didn’t move.

Finally, as sweat dampened his back, he swore and gave up, glanced at Enata. "Well, we can't take it with us. Do you have a writestick?"

She went to a box of supplies and pulled one out. He shoved up his sleeve and wrote with thick strokes on his inner arm:
Remember? No? Go in vault.

"I think I tried that," she said.

He shrugged. "We'll continue this
research
until we can fix the problem. Ready?" He offered his hand.

Enata linked fingers with him. Barton dropped the marker in a box on the way out, Enata opened the door and they left.

O
nce outside the vault
, Enata closed the door, giving Barton the spellwords to open it. They sank down to sit leaning against the round metal wall of the door, cold against their backs.

"You still remember your brother?" he demanded.

She turned with raised brows. "The fact that you recall my brother means the forgetfulness spell isn't working." She blinked and an expression of wonder came to her eyes. "And I don't feel too bad. No headache or nausea!" Blowing out a breath and inhaling, matching their breathing, they stared at each other.

"Such potent spells." A line appeared between her brows, as if she considered the puzzling circumstances. "Affecting both of us."

He took her hand and kissed it. "You are extraordinary. To have battled this every night, to lose your memory, feel so ill… yet still continue. I am awed by your courage."

She gave him a crooked smile, one side of her mouth up, the rest flat. "A compulsion worked upon me. I had no choice."

"I think you did," he said slowly. "If you really wanted to destroy that volume, for instance, I think you could. If you wanted to walk away from this vault and refuse to enter it ever again, I think that would be possible, too. You're a fighter, like me. And you solve puzzles, too. Like me."

"We can do this together." She repeated his words simply.

"Track our loved ones and find them and
talk
to them," he said.

"Make sure they are all right and," her voice thickened, "happy."

"And we know where to go."

"We know where to go." She flung herself into his arms and he held her close.

They stayed, embracing in the basement of the PublicLibrary, for long minutes.
Now
Enata could feel the bond with her brother! As if it had been blocked. Blessed bond. Even if her parents didn't recall it, or Glyssa — yet — Enata felt it. Her beloved brother Reglis.

FamMan, where are you!
whined a tiny, insistent voice.
I want you to feed Me. I want you to pet Me. I want to sit on your head.

Barton chortled, stood and hauled her up, then twined his fingers with hers.
We are coming.

They walked toward the tunnel to D'Licorice Residence and she staggered only a little more than her very physically fit lover. The time in Secure Vault One had been hard on them.

"All that crap about vibrations," Barton said thoughtfully. "Worse in you, but also in me. The compulsion and obsession."

She shivered and put her thoughts into solid words. "Who, or what, has the power to wipe clean the memories of everyone? Who or what can stop us from feeling the primal link of a sibling bond?"

Barton's expression went grim.

"We'll find out."

B
ut it took
two full days of both of them using all their sources before they got results. Enata asked all the librarians and perused the book in the vault time and again. Barton tugged on all his contacts from GreatLord Straif T'Blackthorn, the noted tracker and his cuz Mitchella's husband, to Garrett Primross, a private investigator. Finally a grubby anonymous note came to them — to Enata at D'Licorice Residence one evening — that was written in very old script with instructions.
If you want more information on the Chosen, you and the Clover and the Clover's FamCat show up at Pier twenty-three tomorrow at NoonBell for a sail to Cyfrinach Island. Not a moment sooner. No more than half a septhour later. Look for the ship Lady of Celta and Captain M. Mor.

Barton nipped the note from Enata's fingers and squinted at the handwriting, grunted. They'd remained off work and stayed at D'Licorice Residence. The multitude of the Clover bonds continued to bother Enata and being at her home mitigated that.

Besides, he didn't want anyone, like his brother, to realize they had ulterior motives in planning a wedding trip. Resup the kitten, of course, was thrilled he'd be traveling, then quite dubious when they went to the beach and watched the rolling surf. But he stuck with Barton, would not be left behind.

"Captain M. Mor," Enata murmured. "Another FirstFamily, Mor. There was a Manan Mor
Chosen
twenty-five years ago."

"The current FirstFamily GrandLady D'Mor practices the Family profession of mind Healing," Barton added. He and Enata shared a bleak look. They'd both come to the conclusion that when the memories of a Chosen was excised, it harmed all the individuals of a Family, as well as the Family itself, not to mention the Residence. That had been another creepy discovery. Though they spoke openly about the Chosen and the book,
The Chosen of Celta
, and the Residence knew their plans, when casually asked about Reglis, D'Licorice Residence didn't recall who he was.

Nor did anyone else, and now melancholy lived in Enata's eyes that not even kitten antics could banish.

And Barton didn't want his Family losing memories and fracturing.

They had determined that no one else had had ill effects from visiting Secure Vault One, that had been confined to Enata and him.

So they packed that day, and discussed their plans, then they went first to his Family since they anticipated they'd be the easier to break the news to. And so it proved.

The Clover elders at home had welcomed them, listened to their carefully shaded prevarications and smiled with smug indulgence while giving them dispensation to leave.

Barton didn't think that even his parents, Walker, or Walker's wife Sedwy, a noted behavioral observer, realized that he and Enata weren't being completely truthful.

Nor had Barton's second in command in the guards, or any of the security staff, which was a little disappointing.

That evening after dinner, they tackled the Licorices during Family time in the sitting room.

"We intend to take a wedding trip," Enata said.

D'Licorice's face went expressionless, worse, her eyes blank. She slumped in her wing chair. "Leave? Leave us alone in this Residence. All by ourselves? We've never lived all by ourselves." She turned and reached out to her HeartMate, groped for the hand that he gave her, then tightened her fingers as he did the same.

T'Licorice got up from his seat, bent to his wife and kissed her cheek, sat on the arm of her chair. "Having a newly wed couple take a trip is a common enough event, dearest. And we have each other."

"We'll be alone."

A rich chuckle from her husband. "That isn't necessarily bad, my love."

"I don't think I can, Fasic." Her voice rose.

"Ah, Rhiza." He gathered her into his arms. "Dearest, instead of staying in an empty Residence, why don't
we
take a small vacation, too, perhaps to our house in Gael City we haven't visited for three years. Or we could stay with my Family, the Almonds. They have plenty of space."

"What of the Residence? It might think we are abandoning—"

"Not at all," the Residence said. "I am not so shallow. And . . ." A long creaking came as if from floorboards, "I have wanted to do some internal renovations, moving walls and such. I have plenty of gilt in my budget for construction, and I have learned it's best if humans aren't around during such a time. I intend to make a suite for GrandSir Clover next to Enata's, with an office. Rework the craft room in the basement for better use by Jace Bayrum when he and Glyssa stay with us . . . "

"They aren't coming back!" Enata's mother broke down, turning to her husband. "They are staying in that dangerous and savage place!"

Barton noticed the whole atmosphere warmed around them and a subtle smell of soothing herbs released into the air. Very interesting.

"I don't believe that to be true," the Residence said. "I am older than all you humans. I have my knowledge of people, the combined wisdom of my fellow Residences and that of the starship,
and
access to all PublicLibrary files. I doubt the camp at the excavation of
Lugh's Spear
can be physically turned into a permanent community in the next half decade. That means Glyssa and Jace Bayrum will most likely winter here in Druida City."

"Oh," D'Licorice sniffled.

Barton took the opportunity to say, "You will always be welcome at the Clovers. Be given your own suite or even a small house. I guarantee you that you can be as busy and sociable there as you'd ever wish."

Two pairs of Licorice eyes stared at him. Enata's mother's mouth actually hung open in surprise.

"Maybe a trip to the Gael City house would be good," D'Licorice said. Then she disentangled herself from her husband, stood, and curtseyed to Barton. "We thank you very much for your generous offer, and I'm sure that as we become more acquainted with your Family we will take you up on that offer in the future."

Enata hugged her mother, held out her arm so her father could join their Family embrace. "I will always be here for you," she said, and Barton could hear she meant it, and that it comforted her Family, even though that wasn't a promise she could control. "I am not abandoning you, mother, father. I simply wish to spend time with my husband — as I know each of you cherishes the time you spend alone with each other."

The three heads dipped together until they touched, arms linked in a loose circle, and the hum of private Family thought, maybe even including the Residence, impinged on Barton's senses. He was outside, but didn't feel slighted. Instead he watched the Family dynamic.

He figured that Enata had changed her relationship with her parents, altered the way they would see her, interact with her, in the future.

They'd no longer have the command of her that they'd had. She’d take their feelings into consideration, but she wouldn't be ruled by them. This would slop over into their careers as FirstLevel Librarians, the Family business. The elder Licorices could no longer dictate to Enata what she would do. And Barton didn't think she'd maintain as cool a professional exterior as she had in the past, not his warm woman who began to bloom on her own.

He'd helped her with that, and he was proud to know he'd contributed, even knowing that his own battles with his Family, and perhaps hers, too, lay ahead. After they finished this wedding trip.