Lost Heart: A Celta Novella (Celta HeartMate Series) (2 page)

"No, he owes us a couple of favors."

Barton didn't know that.

"Saille is a professional, he won't take finding a good mate for you lightly."

"I understand." Barton glanced aside. "I don't have a HeartMate, a fated mate, like you, Walker." He didn't have the Flair, psi power, that Walker did, either. Mostly those with great Flair had HeartMates.

Walker said, "Cuz Trif and I have HeartMates, everyone else in the Family has spouses and partners and has married for love. You can't think of this Family and know that couples don't love each other. Saille will find someone for you."

"I don't—"

Walker snapped his fingers and the calendar sphere pinged. "Workbell, the day of Mor, three days from now. Be there."

E
nata Licorice chanted
the spell Words to open the oldest vault in the basement of the PublicLibrary -- Secure Vault Prime. In a conference room above, her parents, the other FirstLevel Librarians, awaited the first generation copies of the satellite videos the colonist starship,
Nuada's Sword
, took as it landed on Celta. Those recordings had been made four centuries ago.

The large, thick, round steel door opened silently, and she hurried into the area that only accommodated two comfortably. Deep shelves surrounded her, and the general quiet of the library hushed into a silence where she could only hear the sound of her breathing and the rustle of her silkeen clothes as she moved. She climbed a rolling ladder to a cabinet, opened it with a four-couplet rhyming spell and two physical keys and pulled out the first copy of the spheres, leaving the original and four secondary copies.

She'd just reached the door with the small crate of spheres when a smell vault wafted to her nose at the same time an odd quality in the atmosphere impinged on her Flair.

Frowning, she turned around to scan all the familiar shapes in the dim light. She knew every volume, every box, every leather portfolio and thick papyrus envelope, every recordsphere and viz and memory sphere.

Directly ahead of her, on the far wall, she saw a new book.

Shock ran through her.
A new book!
Thick, a good eighteen centimeters, bound in midnight blue with gold and silver flecks— no, sparkles. The spine
sparkled
in a random pattern, first a small gold starburst at the bottom, then a large silver one off to the left . . . mesmerizing enough to draw her to the shelf the book rested on. Above eye level for her, in the center of the shelf. Where she'd never have missed seeing it before.

An attractive fragrance came from it. Honeysuckle.

Bemused, she set the crate she held on the floor and stepped toward the shelf.

The closer she got the more wonderful the scent, not only honeysuckle but some fragrance that reminded her so much of seaspray that surf crashed and ebbed in her mind. She touched the spine and the sparks ran up and down her fingers to her wrist and back. She gasped, her hand hovered, but the surf and the scent and the riffling of her Flair kept her fingers moving forward until she gripped the book. The surf swept up her arm, across her shoulder, descended in a wave down her torso, nestled in her heart.

She drew the volume from the shelf, feeling the embedded anti-grav spell. On the front cover, picked out in silver and gold that gleamed real metal, was a map, the well-known peninsula where
Nuada's Sword
had landed, where the very city she stood in was located. But off the coast, outlined in gold, lay an island she'd never seen on any other map or ever heard of. Fascinating. More than fascinating, intriguing, arousing her curiosity as much as the book itself stimulated her Flair.

Smoothing her hand over the cover, opening it, increased the tingles coursing through her. Then the pages flipped fast and stopped at a holographic portrait of a man a little older than her with hair the color of her sister Glyssa's foxy red, though his green eyes appeared much like Enata's own. He smiled and looked so much like her father that she glanced down at the caption: Reglis Landu Licorice, CHOSEN, oldest child of Rhiza D'Licorice and Fasic Almond T'Licorice. Siblings: Enata Losa Licorice –
her!
– and Glyssa Nella Licorice.

She remembered her brother!

Enata dropped the book, but it stayed open in mid-air to the holo of her brother, Reglis.

Tentatively, she skittered a tiny step forward. The page flipped and the holo of the man turned into one of her whole Family, the PublicLibrarian Licorices. Her father with his arm around her mother's waist, his hand on Reglis' shoulder who stood in front of their parents.
He
had one arm around Enata, the other around Glyssa.

From their ages, the holo appeared no older than
earlier that year
.

Enata touched the book, and the page flicked back to her brother's portrait. He grinned.

Her mind burst as memories pounded into her and she reeled against the sturdy shelving on the left wall. Her knees gave way and she collapsed hard on her butt.

She remembered her big brother! All the times he'd irritated her or soothed her hurts or teased her. Long conversations under the diamond star-bright night summer sky, and holding hands with him during rituals.

Enata clasped her fingers together. She recalled so well his energy passing through her, mingling with each member of their Family, enriching them all.

Tears flowed and she found herself making little wounded animal noises. How could she have forgotten her brother? How?

He'd been the heir to their mother, would have become T'Licorice, taking the male title of Head of the Household. In Enata's memory there had been a few months now and again when the heirship had bounced from her to Glyssa, then back again – a result of losing Reglis? And no one,
no one
, had made any reference to him. Neither her parents nor her sister. He must have vanished from their memories, too.

Chosen.
What did that mean? It echoed in her mind like the surf, becoming so loud the word lost its shape and meaning, falling away to softness so all she heard was the "ssss" of waves.

She wanted to see that word again.
Chosen.

The book yet floated above her head. She tried getting up, but fell back on her bruised bottom. Sniffling, she rolled to her hands and knees, then pushed to her feet. She blinked at the bobbing volume, trying to focus.

Feeling stiff, she read the events of her brother's life. Images flashed into her head.

FirstLevel Librarian, Enata Licorice, we are awaiting the recordspheres!
her mother's voice,
the
GrandLady D'Licorice, slapped telepathically into her mind, yanking her attention away from the floating book.

Enata caught her breath on a gasp, touched the volume. It sent a sizzling shock through her fingers, smacked shut, and whisked back to the shelf . . . and the sparks faded and an extra shroud of darkness descended over that particular shelf . . . and Enata recognized the standard books now front and center.

Enata Licorice, what is keeping you?
demanded her mother mentally.

Enata hurried to the door, bent down to pick up the small wooden crate holding the vital spheres and pain stabbed through her head. Straightening slowly, she stood wobbling and dizzy, and her derriere hurt for some reason.

She scanned the vault. Everything was right and orderly.

Enata!
shouted D'Licorice in her mind.

Enata sucked in air through her teeth. Despite her throbbing head, she decided to teleport to the pad nearest to the conference room. She hesitated. Something didn't seem right. She coughed at the dryness in her throat . . . but resolved to come back. Shutting the door, she set the security spells.

A couple of minutes later, D'Licorice frowned as Enata bustled into the conference room. "Thank you for retrieving the recordspheres," D'Licorice said in an icy tone.

After setting the small crate of spheres on the table, Enata nodded to her mother, her father, and the scry panel showing Captain Ruis Elder who looked in from the starship
Nuada's Sword
. With the touch of D'Licorice's fingers, the static image of the first recordsphere projected onto the long opposite wall – showing the peninsula Druida City perched on and the uninterrupted sea to the west.

"Enata, you look pale," stated her father, T'Licorice.

She put a hand to her head. The teleportation had nauseated her. "I'm sorry, I don't feel well." She'd been fine earlier in the day, but in addition to her headache, sick stomach, and hurt bottom, she felt generally ill.

"You may remove yourself from the Library for the rest of the day," D'Licorice said.

"Thank you." Instead of teleporting again, Enata walked down the ramps to the basement and through the tunnel from the PublicLibrary to D'Licorice Residence and up the steps to her bedroom. As she waved the windows thick and opaque, a stray stream of sunlight caught her fingernails. They glittered with silver and gold instead of being a natural tint. A very strange circumstance she'd think about later.

Enata had behaved poorly, and disliked herself.

The fact she hadn't slept the whole night through for fourteen days, since the beginning of the month, was no excuse. Nor that she
knew
something ate at her, but only recalled it now and then. An uneasiness seemed to live under her skin that she couldn't shake, part depression, part deep loneliness, part physical infirmity.

Her sister, Glyssa, had returned to the city, glowing with health and love. Glyssa had traveled across the continent and worked on the exciting project of the excavation of the starship,
Lugh's Spear
. And found her HeartMate. She hadn't, quite, fulfilled her career goals.

Enata had taken out her resentment at Glyssa's good fortune on her sister in a professional meeting before their parents, the other FirstLevel Librarians, challenged her competency.

Glyssa had responded with love and understanding and Enata had backed down.

A knock came on Enata's sitting room door. Glyssa. No, Enata didn't want to speak to her sister who fizzed with happiness. Tiredly, Enata tried to recall the last time she'd even been content — before her sister had left on her quest last month.

"I have hot cocoa, with white mousse and cocoa sprinkles just as you like!" Glyssa called.

Enata blinked, curiosity piqued. Hot cocoa on a summer's night, and a rich luxurious drink she didn't think any of the no-time food storage units — bespelled cabinets where meals and drinks stayed at the same temperature as they were when put in — had on hand. Hauling herself from her chair, she scuffed across to the door and opened it to her sister, who held two drinks.

A pang squeezed Enata. Glyssa always seemed closer to her friends than Enata herself, they rarely spent time together.

She inhaled deeply of the comforting scent, though it wasn't honeysuckle and that odd thought irritated. Where had it come from? Strangeness had invaded her life. One morning she'd found herself in bed with a foggy and dead recordsphere in her hand.

Meanwhile Glyssa stood at the threshold and Enata belatedly recalled that she'd gone to the attics the day after Glyssa had left for
Lugh's Spear,
and brought down new-to-her furniture to redecorate.

"Nice," Glyssa said.

Enata shrugged. "It had been more than a decade since I'd changed my rooms."

Glyssa nodded.

"Where did you get the cocoa? It's not accessible from any of the regular no-times until after Halloween," Enata said.

"I took it from the ritual no-time."

Enata felt her eyes widen at accessing a ritual no-time and taking food prepared for a rite on a whim. She'd never thought of doing that. Glyssa dared and carried through on her daring.

"That's not a good look for you," Glyssa admonished. She handed Enata the mug and it felt good on her sensitive palms.

Then Glyssa pushed open the door and glided to a wing chair upholstered in deep teal furrabeast leather. The color made her think of spring shading into the bolder colors of summer. A twinge tightened the muscles on her neck.

Glyssa said, "I've learned that enjoying the moment is important. The hot cocoa drink option in the ritual no-time was completely full. So we should use some."

That sounded reasonable. They were adults. Of course their parents could still disapprove and scold, or the intelligent house itself, D'Licorice Residence.

"Sounds right," Enata said. It took all her strength to stand up straight and pretend everything was fine. "What do you want?" She'd thought Glyssa would be with her HeartMate.

Glyssa lifted her brows and Enata rolled her eyes and sighed. Her tongue had tripped again. "Sorry for the rudeness," she said, and that came out more snotty than weary, too. Better she sounded rude rather than hurting. Picking up her feet carefully, Enata headed to a comfortchair.

"I have a plan," Glyssa said.

"Of course you do." Enata suppressed a sigh as she settled onto the chair. Now she thought about it, she'd awakened here a couple of times in the last fourteen days.

Sipping her cocoa, Glyssa said, "I think we should buy an appointment for you with the matchmaker, Saille T'Willow."

That had Enata gasping, "Such expense." But her heart began to beat hard.

"You're worth it. And you're the only one without a HeartMate this generation. You deserve that from the rest of us."

Oh, Lady and Lord! Could a matchmaker find Enata a good husband? Such hope pulsed through her. Hope . . . and fear, what if she didn't have a good match, either? Stupid sleeplessness, eroding her self confidence. She
could
have love in her life. "You think?"

"Yes, I do, and we can make a good case for our parents."

Enata's emotions wavered. "The expense!" They were a frugal, scholarly Family, not putting much stock in wealth and status. They had to preserve the legacy they'd inherited. Should always be ready to fund the PublicLibrary themselves if the Councils failed. That had happened on Earth.

"Gilt is not as important as happiness," Glyssa said. "We all know that."

"Ye-es." Enata put her hand to her head, her mind spun and she felt such a mixture of emotions she couldn't speak.

"And it isn't as if the return won't be worth it. GreatLord T'Willow will find you a husband, a partner, a helpmeet. You'll be happier, your work will show that. We aren't meant to live alone."

Only drinking noises punctuated the silence. The luxury of cocoa with white mousse and sprinkles fully matched its decadent fragrance — and she tasted an added kick of mouth-heating liquor. Enata studied her sister who'd spoken of being happier with a partner. "You believe that."