Lost Heart: A Celta Novella (Celta HeartMate Series) (11 page)

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Authors: Robin D. Owens

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Teen & Young Adult, #Psychics

BOOK: Lost Heart: A Celta Novella (Celta HeartMate Series)
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Chapter 16

T
he next day
, an hour before NoonBell, Barton and Enata ate brunch in the main kitchen of Clover Compound to say a casual goodbye to his relatives. He didn't really anticipate anything going wrong, but who knew? Bottom line, they were dealing with someone or something that could rip the memories from every member of a Family. So he updated his will and left it with Walker.

With one last glance around his near sterile bedroom, he picked up his bag as Enata did hers. Resup, full of food, slept inside Barton's duffle.

She smiled, looking a whole lot more comfortable than the last time she was here, good. The whole Family had given her room, and Barton had made sure that other professional women had been at lunch — his cuz Trif and Walker's HeartMate, Sedwy.

"Ready?" Enata asked, a lilt in her voice.

Excitement zipped through him, too. "Yeah." Clearing his throat, he said, "You know the Family thinks of this as a starter house for a bachelor since there's only two bedrooms. Would you like something . . . more?"

Chuckling, she shrugged. He saw no opinion in her eyes as she said, "You'll also be living in a connecting suite in D'Licorice Residence. We share that Residence with my parents." She dropped her bag and held out her hands. He walked up and took them, felt the strong bond between them.

She said, "It matters that I'm with you. I — we — don't know the future, how many children we might have. I am fine with any living arrangement as long as we're together."

He kept his expression serious, then sent a final spurt of telepathy to his brother Walker.
We are leaving now!

Have a great time!
Walker replied mentally.

I intend to.

Better you than me on the ocean,
Walker sent absently, then Barton felt his mind focus on a task. Barton let out a breath. Looked like he and Enata had escaped detection absolutely clean.

Time to teleport. He moved behind his wife, wrapped his arm around her waist, brought her up against him. He loved keeping her in his arms, being with her, more every day. "Come on," he murmured, "Let's head out, count us down." He nuzzled her ear.

"You're very distracting."

He laughed. "So are you. It's all good, I think . . . I feel . . . I believe."

"We'll 'port to pier nineteen, outside a branch library."

"Fine."

A few minutes later a cool ocean breeze whipped at their clothes. "Fall Equinox, Mabon holiday in a couple of weeks," Barton said, folding his fingers over her cold ones. "I don't want to celebrate without Savi and Balansa."

She touched his cheek with her free hand and he looked into her eyes. "Barton, those people in
The Chosen of Celta,
Manan Mor, Corylus Hazel, Colluna Heather Hazel, and Reglis . . . they could have returned here if they wanted. You must accept that."

"As you've accepted it?"

"I sense my bond with my brother, and he's . . . content." She brought their linked hands to her breasts and he felt the thump of her heart. "No matter what, I must be happy with his choice, just as I must be pleased with Glyssa's to live across the continent.
Their
choice. What fulfills
them
. My choice for them and my needs about them must not be primary."

"Sounds like you're telling yourself that."

Her smile was wobbly. "I am. I'm selfish, I want my Family around me. But I truly do want my brother and sister to do what is right for
them
, a priority for
them
. Like we're leaving on this trip against my parents' wishes."

"And hiding the ultimate reason from my own Family. I get it. But I want them home." Words he kept repeating because they were true. He'd picked up the pace and now the ship,
Lady of Celta,
at pier twenty-six was in view.

"So you can try and fix your failure," Enata pressed.

So he was stubborn. "Maybe."

"Sometimes that can't be done. We can only live with the consequences of our actions."

"That's wisdom," said a voice in a noble accent.

They turned to a man nearly equal in height to Barton, somewhat older, who wore his long blond-brown hair in a tail. His hazel gaze was fixed on them.

Vinni T'Vine, the prophet of Celta. A surge of apprehension flowed from Barton to Enata, doubled to anxiety and poured back. Barton strove not to show that.

"Hey, Vinni," he said.

Vinni wore a puzzled expression. "I don't know exactly why I am here."

Barton felt Enata's pulse pound.

Vinni scrutinized them. "I . . . sense . . . that whatever you two will be doing, affects me somehow." His shoulders rolled uneasily.

"Enata and I are taking a wedding trip. A week, max. Do you see any problem with the voyage?" Barton asked as mildly as he could. Not many people were able to keep secrets from the prophet. But he'd known Vinni since they'd been boys and Barton kept his manner completely easy, acted as if he didn't lie with every thought and breath. Beside him, Enata showed nerves, but most people thought of her as high-strung, so that wouldn't tip Vinni off that she hid a secret from him.

Vinni's gaze had gone to the ship, beyond it and out to the ocean. "No-oo." He frowned. "A very odd trip . . ."

"We like odd," Enata said. "Will we be successful in, ah, bonding well?" She snuggled close to Barton, but he felt her aura, her unspoken questions, intensify. More like
Will we be successful in discovering what's happening with our loved ones?
Perhaps she thought that her intention might influence Vinni's gift, even if she phrased the question differently.

A long moment of silence with water lapping the stanchions came, then Vinni's expression lightened and he dipped his head. His eyes, always changeable when his Flair came upon him, returned to his standard hazel.

"Yes, you will be successful." Vinni's sharp gaze pinned the both of them. "This is . . . whatever you are doing . . . something that is vital and must be done." He frowned at them, then his eyes widened and he raised his hands, stepped back and nearly shouted, "No, I don't want to know and I will
not
stay in your company to have you trigger more of my Flair!" The prophet vanished.

And Barton sensed the Captain of the ship behind him.

He turned. "Greetyou, Captain Mor."

The man grunted. "Come along, then. We best leave as soon as possible." He grimaced. "Wasn't supposed to return to Druida City so soon. But
she
said so, so here I am."

Enata curtsied. "Greetyou and thank you, Captain Mor."

He stared at her. "You'd be the Licorice Librarian."

"That's right."

"You're welcome." He turned and began clumping away. "You're welcome, too, Clover. Though I doubt you'll like the whole thing."

And ME!

The Captain stopped, whirled, stared at the small head poking out of Barton’s duffle. "That's a kitten. I was told a FamCat. Perhaps."

I AM a CAT!
Resup insisted.

Snorting, the Captain said, "You're a kitten." He snapped his fingers and a tiny orange floatation vest appeared in his hands. With gnarled but gentle fingers he put it on a frozen Resup. Enata had to use a spell to keep Barton's Fam quiet. He didn't like the vest, but understood why. Not only would the vest be easy to see, but it had a return-to-ship spell if Resup fell overboard.

I
t was the strangest sail
. . . cruise Barton had ever experienced. He'd been out on a couple of FirstFamily noble's yachts, one dinner cruise off the coast as a Family celebration of a wedding anniversary, but never beyond the sight of land. And the
Lady of Celta's
crew was far too minimal for a seagoing ship. Weirdest of all was the method of transportation. A septhour and a half out of Druida City, the Captain sailed into a strong current that simply pulled along the whole ship as if it was locked straight into that flow. That lasted for a good day and a half.

Near the beginning of the trip, Barton had felt ill, as if someone messed with his Familial bonds. As he sweated and held onto Enata’s hand, he made her talk of Savi and Balansa . . . because their memories began to fade. Until the Captain told them the ship had reached the half way point to the island, where his cuzes were. Time away from their home and on the island? And distance? Barton figured those were factors in when such memories disappeared.

Though Enata questioned the Captain and got some answers which she noted down, the rest of the voyage Barton mostly watched Resup. Neither Captain nor crew paid much attention to him or the kitten.

The evening of the second day, they came into port in a wide bay surrounded by white cliffs. Only one dock thrust into the ocean.

Chapter 17

T
hey exited
Lady of Celta
by walking down a gangplank to a pier. Enata had her bag on an anti-grav follow spell, and Barton carried his duffle, Resup once again tucked inside and snoozing.

Though the surrounding scenery was stunning with high cliffs of pale rock with verdant green covering the top of them, one with a looming castle, her gaze went to the three people standing beyond the prow of the ship on the pier, two smaller ones in front of a tall man. A man with rusty hair the color of Glyssa's and eyes — though she couldn't see them — the color of her own. Reglis!

Her heart thumped hard in her chest.

Barton appeared more grim than intense and she wished she knew him well enough that she could drop a phrase into his mind to be easy on his young relatives.

Then he met her eyes and they warmed and a corner of his mouth lifted.
You do well enough in knowing me,
Barton sent to her mind.

The feeling is mutual,
she said, then looked down the dock. Her eyes became accustomed to the dimness of the lowering sun dipping behind clouds and she ran toward the beloved, and now-well-recognized shape of her brother Reglis, shouting his name.

At the same time, the thin young man, looking more like a boy than a legal adult, glanced up and jolted. She heard his gasp. He grabbed his younger sister and held her.

Then she reached Reglis and threw herself into his arms. He smelled of honeysuckle.

"Enata! They told me to come to the pier, but I . . . " He choked and just grabbed her and they shook together. "I've missed you
so much.
"

"Me, too." She decided it wasn't the time to tell him of the vanishing memories of everyone, to interrogate him about the terrible, wrenching spell that someone laid on the Families of the Chosen.

Barton strode past them, sending a tender thought.
You talk to your brother.

Thank you for giving me this time alone with him,
she replied telepathically.

There is time enough,
he ended, though his shoulders squared as he headed for his own lost ones.

Reglis said, "Tell me everything that's happened. About you," he glanced at Barton's very nice retreating butt, "and your very handsome and virile lover."

"My new husband."

"Congratulations!" Reglis squeezed her tight, and she recalled that he, too, had no HeartMate in this lifetime. "Tell me all, and about Glyssa and the parents."

"Glyssa is off with her HeartMate to the excavation of the starship
Lugh's Spear,
and will be one of the founders of a community there."

"What!" Reglis gasped. "They're excavating
Lugh's Spear?
How utterly fascinating! Tell me everything. Who’s sponsoring—"

"The Elecampanes, of course, and Glyssa is the historian!"

"What a great opportunity. And she's found her HeartMate?"

"An adventurer named Jace Bayrum?" Enata lifted her own brows, got a quick shake of his head.

"Never heard of him."

"All right . . ." And instead of talking about
The Chosen of Celta,
and all her questions, she began telling her brother all that had passed outside this island. She treasured the easy flow of emotion through their sibling link.

Barton wasn't quite sure to handle his own relatives, neither of them had run to
him.
But he did try to keep a nervous frown off his face, and stopped within the distance expected of Family.

"Greetyou, Savi." Barton gave the youngster a half bow, angled his body to Balansa and gave her the same. "Greetyou Balansa."

They didn't have any features that proclaimed them "Clover" to him, but then none of the Clovers had wildly original features. Something of a commonality of manner, maybe, but no special hawk nose or wide brow, or whatever, that marked them all.

As a matter of fact, Savi appeared downright handsome, for sure with finer features than Barton's own blunt ones. And Balansa would be a beauty. Good looking young ones.

"Barton," Savi said, belligerence in his voice.

Barton judged him to be an instant away from an argument, maybe even a swing of a fist that Barton had followed him and disrupted his current life, questioned his judgment.

"Let's take this down the dock," he said.

With a curl of his lips, Savi turned and marched to solid ground, then stood that ground.

He spoke first. "I won't go back." His lips pressed together, he jutted his chin. "There is nothing there for me in Druida City, with the Clovers." He nearly spat the name. Expression seething with anger, he measured his gaze against Barton's. "You didn't care for us!" the cry of betrayal tore from his seventeen-year-old throat.

Barton stepped back, enough that he could bow low to the youngster. He also dropped his gaze, trusting in his reflexes to counter any strike from Savi. Keeping low, his gaze on the ground, he said, "I admit my wrong. I admit the wrong of the Head of the Household in failing you and your sister, in the deficiency in the Clover Family elders in caring for you." He stayed that way for long moments, as he'd learned as a child younger than Balansa.

"I acknowledge your apologies," Savi said gruffly.

Straightening, Barton inclined his head. "But you don't accept them, as is your right."

"It shows a lack of graciousness," said the girl who hadn't spoken until now. Both Savi and Barton flinched. She sounded just like their mothers.

"I accept your apology. All your apologies," the young man said reluctantly. His lips firmed. "But I've made my choice and I'm not going back."

"You're sure? The Family will—"

A near ugly laugh. "The Family is already broken into high status and low status ranks. Walker, you and your lady," Savi jerked his head at Enata, "obviously another noblewoman — those who marry nobles or know nobles well — and those of us who don't."

That hadn't occurred to Barton, and it wasn't
quite
true. Yet. But now that he thought on it, he could see the stratification Savi accused them of. That must stop. Since the whole Family must work to make them all affluent nobles, within the Family they had to be fluid. Recognize potential, like the Flair this young man had, the beauty of this pair. Barton knew who to put in charge of this, Sedwy, the anthropologist, Walker's wife.

"If you want a noble marriage, we could arrange it," he said mildly.

"And if I'd come to you that winter when our parents died?"

"We would have drawn you into a Family to shelter and care for you," Barton said promptly. He looked at Balansa. "We will do so for you, now. And Savi, you know you qualify for your own home in Clover Compound."

"Not for me," Savi said. "The lady has explained my choices." He stood straight and tall, a powerfully Flaired young man whose potential the Clovers hadn't seen or appreciated. "She does not want unwilling colonists, reluctant
Chosen
." The last word, more like a title, rolled rich and full off Savi's tongue. "She has plans for me, and I intend to stay."

"The Lady? Of the Lady and Lord?" Barton probed.

Savi's face clouded. "It is not my place to say. But if you came to find out whether I am happy here, I am. I will stay." He spread his arm in a wide gesture encompassing the island. "The Chosen here are the Best of the Best."

"I hear you," Barton said.

Savi nodded to Barton, one adult to another, equal. "I am glad to see you, though, Barton. It's good."

A lot of words about the dance Savi had led him on lay on Barton's tongue. All too negative. He swallowed them. "I am glad you found your place, youn—," he stopped that word. "Savi." Turning to the man's sister, he asked, "What of you, Balansa? Has the lady spoken to you?"

Her face crumpled, and she brushed her hand against her brother's as if wanting him to take it. He didn't seem to feel the touch.

We're here!
said Resup's teeny voice. He clawed at the tab of Barton's duffle, stuck his head out, sniffed lustily.
I smell you!
he caroled, gaze fixed on Savi.
You are sort of Clover.

"A kitten Fam," Balansa cooed. She glanced up at Barton. "May I hold him?"

Since she'd mentally heard the Fam, too, she had good Flair. "Sure."

She plucked him from the duffle and held him against her chest. "You are beautiful!"

Of course,
said Resup,
You smell like all Clover.

"A kitten Fam," Savi repeated flatly. "And the Clover Family doesn't have many individuals with Fam companions."

"Neither does any other Family," Barton retorted.

"But those who do have Fams are of the inner circle, privileged Clovers."

All right, the boy remained angry. Let him beat that anger against Barton, he could take it. "Says the man who is
Chosen,
" Barton retorted. "
Chosen
above all other Clovers." Because he had been angry with his lot? Other Clovers weren't, so whoever . . .

"That's right.” Savi's voice, and his face, became rapt. He angled a little, his stare fixed, and Barton turned to look . . . at the sun, caught in the last bank of clouds before it set, shooting rays of yellow and pink up into the sky and coating the water below with a stream of the same colors. The rest of the world took on a bluish tinge of oncoming night. With a jolt, Barton understood that Savi was just appreciating this simple pleasure. Taking time from his day to watch the sun set because it was beautiful.

After a moment, Savi sighed, glanced back to Barton and said, equally easily, "I'm happy here, Barton. I'm happy with my choices. I have a good life, and a girlfriend." His smile came sudden and blinding. "And I will ask the lady for a Fam. She'll arrange one." He put his hand on his sister's back. "Shall we return to the Castle?"

Slowly Balansa held Resup out to Barton.

"I think we're all going to the same place." He looked over to Enata and Reglis who strolled toward them, heads still bent in conversation. "We'll catch up with you. Keep Resup until then, if he wants to go with you."

I have never been in a Castle! I would like to see one. I would like to run. Barton does not run enough.

Balansa grinned. "Thanks!"

"I can't promise a Fam kitten or cat," Barton said, observing Savi from the corner of his eyes, "but I bet I could get you a FamFox kit, Balansa. We have that fox den outside the Compound."

Joy filled her eyes. And Savi said nothing. Didn't insist that his sister stay. Interesting.

Savi and Balansa took off, Savi at a lope and Balansa at a run, on the criss-crossing path up the hill.

When Enata and her brother caught up to Barton, she put her arm around his waist, making them a unit. "Reglis, this is my husband, Barton Clover. Barton, this is my brother, Reglis Licorice." She nearly sang the last phrase.

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