Heart Dance (42 page)

She had to set all emotion aside and do what she’d planned. Clear her father’s name. Restore her right to use her own Flair openly.

Triumph over an enemy.

So she shut emotion away so she could
think
and act. She was much better at that anyway.

After a deep breath, she pressed the key to slide open the top of the capsule and placed her hands on the woman’s flesh. She was alive, and so was the virus.

Dufleur gathered the motes of the Celtan Time Wind around her, sent them into each virus nucleus. Then she
shifted
into the Time Wind and brought the cells with her, sped forward two minutes, accelerating time and the virus’s processes, then
jumped
back a full five minutes.

The virus died.

She leaned heavily on the cryonics tube, letting it support her. Even now there was no joy. At the success of her experiment.At the knowledge she could duplicate it. Even though she believed she could form an equation to have time follow her steps and make a device that Healers could use.

She could save lives. And she was sure that this process could be duplicated with other viri. She’d cleared the Thyme name; her father’s reputation and her own were now shown to be brilliant and honorable.

And it was all hollow.

Somehow, in the last few weeks, she’d become more than Dufleur ThymeHeir, the researcher of time, whose work was more important to her than anything else.

She’d become the loving HeartMate of Saille T’Willow. And nothing was more important than loving him, and being loved by him. Why had she discovered that so late?

The door opened, and she whirled. He’d come back!

No. FirstLevel Healers GreatLord T’Heather and Lark Holly walked in.

T’Heather quickened his stride. “You’re done? Ahead of schedule?”

Dufleur tottered to a nearby built-in bench. “I began as agreed, when the Ship removed Willow’s life support.”

“Open the tube,” T’Heather commanded, and Dufleur watched dully as the top of the cylinder slid away. He placed a hand on Willow’s chest. “She lives.” He frowned, glanced at Dufleur. “The virus is dead.”

Lark Holly walked over to Dufleur, put her hands under Dufleur’s chin, and forced Dufleur to meet her eyes. Dufleur felt a surge of energy as Lark transferred some of her own strength to her. Lark had been her physician after the attack, and there was a bond between them. “You are very low on energy and need rest. I will call a glider to take you home.” Lark rubbed Dufleur’s shoulder, then went to join T’Heather and revive Willow to full consciousness.

Home, where was home? She had none. Not Winterberry Residence,which was readying itself for the new Family of Meyar, his son, daughter-in-law, and Son’sSon. Not D’Thyme Residence,which existed as a kernel. Not the house that had once belongedto a murderer.

Not Willow Residence.

Saille didn’t want her now.

With snorting breaths and sputters and a series of groans, the former D’Willow awoke. It took nearly a half septhour before she was helped to a sitting position by the Healers. At that, Dufleur looked away. The Healers might be used to nudity in all kinds of patients, but Dufleur wasn’t. Great Flair demanded great energy, and sometimes people overate to compensate.

After a bout of coughing, Willow said, “I am back. I
knew
I would be revived. And here are old T’Heather and his Daughter’s Daughter, not appearing a day older. How much time has passed?”

“Five months, one eightday, five days, twelve and a half septhours exactly,” Dufleur said automatically.

“Who’s that?”

“Dufleur Thyme, she who destroyed the virus in your body with a manipulation of time,” T’Heather said.

Willow coughed again. “Interesting. I didn’t know I’d left any of old Thyme’s notes when Agave and I paid him that last visit.”

That propelled Dufleur to her feet. “My Saille was right. It was you. You were my father’s silent partner.”

“And a poor partner he was, too. He didn’t get the job done, did he? So I demanded he give his notes to Agave, who was showing more signs of success.”

Dufleur stared, pulse racing, horror creeping over her. “You were there when Agave and my father fought.”

“I had the passwords to Thyme Residence, so Agave and I could get the notes.”

“It was you all along.”

“I paid your father good gilt for his worthless work.”

“I think you should keep quiet now, D’Willow, for your own sake,” T’Heather said grimly.

“All because of you. You brought Agave into our home, demandedmy father’s studies.” Oh, yes, she could see the whole scenario now, and it sickened her. “Agave and my father fought, and the lab exploded. Then you blamed my father for the explosion.Vilified his name. What have I done?” She wrapped her arms around herself. Her knees gave out, and she fell again to the bench. She’d been wrong all along. Saille had been right. This woman wasn’t worth saving.

This woman would always cause problems, with her determinationto get her own way, her selfishness, her hubris.

T’Heather and Lark stepped back from the tube. “The virus is gone, but the effects it had on your health are not.”

Willow commanded, “A robe if you please!”

“We didn’t bring one,” Lark said. “You should be able to Summon one from T’Willow Residence.”

“I am
D’Willow
.”

“No,” Dufleur said. This much at least she could do to protectthe Willows from this tyrant. “T’Willow is Head of the Household now. Your Daughter’sSon. I think the best way to determinewho retains the title is . . . is to Test each with T’Ash’s Testing Stones. That will show who has the best Flair.” She had no doubt Saille, her Saille, would triumph.

Triumph.
The word tasted like ashes in her mouth, dry, dusty, dead.

“In my medical opinion, the strain of being D’Willow, Head of a FirstFamilies GreatHouse, would be too hard on your health,” T’Heather said briskly.

“No!” Willow shouted. She put a hand over her chest. Her color had been high, but now grayed. “No robe. What a miserableplace this is. What lack of foresight you all had.” She breathed so heavily Dufleur could easily hear her.

“Calm, GreatMistrys Willow,” Lark said coolly, using the titlefor a lesser member of a FirstFamily.

“No! I am D’Willow. I will remain D’Willow.”

“I don’t think so.” Dufleur stood, shaking, from anger, from grief, from disgust, from horror. All mixed together. “It’s obviousyou have little Flair.” One of her Saille’s secrets. His MotherDamhad lost her powers. When? The consequences of her practicing her craft without Flair staggered Dufleur. That was some of the business Saille had been pursuing, and Dufleur hadn’t given him the comfort he needed, when he’d always given her tenderness.

Yes, she felt sick. A wave of nausea had her folding on herself. Lark Holly was with her. “Steady.” Her tone, as well as her arm around Lark’s shoulders, was warm. At her touch, the sickness subsided.

“What have I done?” whispered Dufleur.

“Followed your craft.”

Willow screeched. “It’s this Ship! This cursed Ship has stolen my Flair!”

“D’Willow,” T’Heather said.

She batted his hand on her arm aside.

With a muttered oath, T’Heather produced a voluminous robe and shoved it at her.

“I will sue this Ship. I will ruin—”

“That’s enough.” SupremeJudge Ailim Elder swept in, lookingstern, scanning the room with one glance, blinking.

Dufleur knew the telempath sensed T’Heather’s frustration, Lark’s concern for Dufleur, Dufleur’s sickness of the heart.

The SupremeJudge put both hands in the large opposite sleeves of her purple judge’s robe. "GreatMistrys Willow, this Ship is a curious, rational, and methodological being. It can measure an individual’s Flair almost as precisely as T’Ash’s Testing Stones. And of course it keeps records. It will have a reading of your Flair when it contracted with you to use the cryogenics tube.”

Willow gasped, flushed once more, and donned the robe.

“Furthermore, T’Willow and I had a conversation a while ago about your hiding the HeartMates of his Family from them, which, in my
judicial
opinion, is an abuse of Flair.”

“What?” said Lark, appearing fascinated.

“I must go,” whispered Dufleur, wondering how she could fix this mess. It appeared as if Ailim Elder might mend it legally, but morally Dufleur still had the responsibility of helpingSaille and his Family deal with the angry
GreatMistrys
Willow.

She could do it. Face an unhappy FirstFamily that had sufferedfrom her actions.

She would do it.

As soon as she recovered her strength. She wobbled to the door with Lark’s help, ignoring T’Heather’s rumbling admonishmentsto the former D’Willow.

“We have a glider waiting to take you to T’Winterberry Residence,” SupremeJudge Elder said kindly.

“Thank you.”

The judge glanced at T’Heather and Willow. “I think we’ve given her enough to think about. I’ll accompany you out.”

Moving slowly, regret in every step, Dufleur left the Ship, defeated.

The glider was new, with Meyar T’Winterberry’s arms tinted on the side. Fairyfoot waited inside, whiskers and tail twitching in irritation.
I was too late. Ship started the experiment before We agreed and then would not let Me inside. I should have been there. I am Time Cat now. We were right, We were right. We were right!

But as soon as the door shut behind her, Dufleur let the sobs come, fumbled in her pursenal for softleaves.

Fairyfoot purred and curled on her lap.
Why do you hurt?

She hoped.
If he gives me a chance.

Dufleur cried harder, letting all her pent-up emotions out, and barely had time to blow her nose and mop her face before the door opened and Ilex helped her out. “How did it go, Dufleur?”

She twitched her lips up. “I succeeded in killing the virus. The Healers revived her. She is an awful old woman, Ilex.” She grabbed and held on to him and let him lead her to her rooms, murmuring soothing words—and sending her calming Flair as well as energy through their Familial bond.

He seated her on the bed and sat next to her when she didn’t let go of him. She gulped, swallowed, and met his smoky eyes. “D’Willow was Father’s silent partner. That night . . . the night of the explosion, she let Agave into our Residence, demanded Father’s notes. She was the cause of the fight, the explosion.”

Ilex stiffened, his face fell into guardsman lines. “She knew the security passwords to T’Thyme Residence?”

“She said so.”

“To you?”

“T’Heather and Lark Holly were there. I think the Ship was recording the experiment. The SupremeJudge came in later. She might know now, too.”

“Agave answers to the Wheel of Stars and his next lives and is out of our reach. GreatMistrys Willow is not.”

Dufleur hugged him for using Willow’s new title.

“Do you want to prosecute?”

“I don’t know what the charges would be.” Tears began stinging behind her eyes again.

“I’ll figure them out. Consult with the SupremeJudge. The old hag will pay,” Ilex said grimly.

Dufleur sniffed. “As long as it is she, personally, not the Willows.I don’t want the Willow Family harmed by this.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He stood, looked down at her, hesitated.“Anything else?”

“Saille broke our HeartMate bond.”

“You mean he narrowed it to a filament.”

Dufleur started, checked. “Yes.”

Ilex raked his hands through his curly gray hair, strode across the room and back. “It seems we of the Winterberry blood are clumsy with our lovers.”

“I always knew I was no good with relationships. That I’d fail at it.”

“Don’t say that!” He squatted in front of her. “You may be
inexperienced
with good relationships, so you make mistakes. If you want the man enough, you will correct the mistakes.” His eyes were steady, unflinching.

Dufleur dropped her eyes. “I want the man enough.”

“Then you’ll do your best to correct your mistakes.”

"I can’t kill D’Wil—GreatMistrys Willow.”

“No. I think you’ve broken enough laws.”

She winced, put out her hand. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you. You’re a guardsman. You would have tried to stop me, and that would have—”

“I understand.” But he was obviously not pleased.

“I apologize for not telling you.”

“Accepted. My temper will be raw over this for a while, but it will fade. I love you as a cuz, Dufleur.”

“I love you, too.”

“So you’ve apologized to me, and the hurt will fade. Go do the same to T’Willow.” Ilex strode from the room, and the door snapped shut behind him.

Ilex right
, Fairyfoot said and began washing herself.

“I know.” Dufleur got up and rinsed her face, then made some herbal tea that would help the aftermath of crying, and drank it.

She had to go to Saille.

She was afraid of doing so.

Thirty-two

Saille walked for a long time, hurting and trying not to. Try
ingnot to think, either. He strode the full width of the two-kilometerShip, then through a path cleared of snow in Landing Park. For a while he pressed a hand over his heart, feeling like it had been ripped from him. Then he shuddered. Dufleur had barely survived the attempt to pull her heart from her body. Despitebeing linked to her and experiencing her black moments, vague unpleasant dreams, and that awful nightmare, he hadn’t made allowances for that. Or that she’d lost her father hardly more than a year ago.