Authors: Robin D. Owens
Heartmate (12 page)
When T'Ash looked at Tinne, his heart contracted. The Holly was so young. Had he, himself, ever been that young? Not since he was six. But he remembered Holm Holly, looking very like the youth before him, some twenty years past. Now, beyond the vow of blood and honor T'Ash owed Holm, T'Ash would do his best to let this young man live and mature into a good man.
After a quick glance around the store to ensure no one needed help, T'Ash went over to stand before Tinne, cupped one hand over Tinne's right shoulder, and curved his other hand around Tinne's left one, clasping the weapon. T'Ash matched his breathing to Tinne's and felt the waves of Flair between Tinne and himself and between Tinne and the blade.
T'Ash increased the cadence and shortened the waves of his own energy, to raise and empower Tinne's.
A mental touch.
A Flair twist.
Done. The blade was tuned to the young Holly.
T'Ash stepped back, glad the sweat on his scalp was being absorbed by his hair, and not flaunted for all who watched.
He studied Tinne's relaxed stance: balanced, but still ready to act, a natural fighter, just like all his Family.
“On guard, quatre!” T'Ash commanded.
Tinne snapped into the fencing stance.
“Parry.”
The blade angled.
“Riposte.”
Tinne thrust, still with eyes closed.
“Good. The weapon looks well-balanced for your use.”
Tinne opened his eyes and grinned, holding the long dagger tightly. “Oh, it is, I assure you. I've never had one so perfect. I usually carry a castoff. Now I have a weapon crafted just for me!” His exultant tones reminded T'Ash that there could be no better gift for a Holly. It was as if T'Ash had found a rare peridot brought long ago from Earth. The peridot was the designated stone for the Ash Family. . . .
T'Ash nodded shortly. “I guessed at your build, but the blade should still fit when you reach your full growth.”
“Nice.”
“Thank you.”
“I suppose I couldn't take it with me now?”
“It needs some finishing touches.”
And even more magical reinforcement.
And even more magical reinforcement.
Tinne looked at it and shook his head. “I can't see that. But Holm always said you were a perfectionist.” Reluctantly he handed the main gauche over to T'Ash.
Tinne placed right palm over his heart and bowed formally to T'Ash, not lowering his eyes. “I thank you. Both for the utility and the beauty of the weapon. It suits me.”
“You are welcome. The main gauche will be finished the day after tomorrow.”
Pleasure lit the young man's eyes. “So soon? This Ioho, Discovery Day eve? Superb.” With a lilting laugh he vaulted over the counter and tipped a hand in T'Ash's direction as he walked to the door.
“Come to my estate to receive it,” T'Ash said.
Tinne nodded.
Before he could leave, Zanth jumped down from the chair and went to sniff at Tinne. T'Ash wasn't deceived, the Fam's body was tense, ready to claw if threatened.
“Greetyou.” Tinne smiled down at the Fam, then actually squatted beside the large cat.
T'Ash noticed with approval that Holly kept his knees together, protecting what a man prized most even from a cat. Though Zanth would never be taken by anyone to be just a common cat. His size, if nothing else, ensured that.
“My Fam, Zanthoxyl,” T'Ash said.
“Rrrow.”
Acceptable boy. I like. Smells really, really, REALLY
good.
Acceptable boy. I like. Smells really, really, REALLY
good.
Tinne quirked a brow. “Fam? Telepathic to you?”
“Very.”
Tinne studied Zanth's unpreposing appearance and grinned. He scratched Zanth's head. “Nice size. I have a Fam of my own, also a cat.”
Truth.
“Salesclerk. Salesclerk!” called an obnoxious female voice.
T'Ash and Tinne stood. Anger darkened the young man's eyes.
“Salesclerk, I want you now.” A heavy woman puffed to the counter with several shopping bags.
“I come,” T'Ash said.
“Doesn't she knowâ”
“Go,” T'Ash ordered.
“Salesclerk! I was told this was an exclusive shopâ”
“She shouldn't treat youâ”
“She shouldn't treat anyone that way. Go.” T'Ash sent a gentle nudge of energy to Tinne. The young man scowled, but left the store.
T'Ash strolled back behind the counter. He held himself straight and kept his face impassive, but his presence was enough to have the woman's mouth opening and closing like a fish.
She shoved a small silver charm in the shape of a spaceship to him.
T'Ash didn't touch it. He didn't like her negative energy, and the last two draining days left him extremely sensitive. He took some colored softleaves and wrapped the token, pushed it across the counter, teleported the woman's money into the till, and exhaled in relief when she left the store.
Nasty thing,
Zanth said.
Zanth said.
“Yes.”
Looked at toys. Come.
Zanth sauntered over to a case and rubbed his nose against it, leaving a smear.
Zanth sauntered over to a case and rubbed his nose against it, leaving a smear.
T'Ash winced.
This one. Make My gift like this.
T'Ash knew it. Nothing simple for Zanth. Chains of silver descended in loops for three inches, finally suspending a white diamond from a twisted strand.
“Silver?” T'Ash hoped.
Glisten.
“Glisten is difficult to work with, especially in thin twists like this.”
You best.
He put a paw against the glass and tapped it with extended claws.
He put a paw against the glass and tapped it with extended claws.
“All right. For the T'Blackthorn fountain lambenthyst.”
Yes.
“But it will have to wait a while, a week or two.”
When you do HeartGift?
“Tomorrow evening.”
Do then.
“I think,” T'Ash said carefully, “that Fams can experience Passage also. If you want me to ask Lady D'Ivy for some herbsâ”
Two weeks fine. Me in your other Passages enough.
Zanth crossed to the door.
Zanth crossed to the door.
“I'm touched.”
Zanth sniffed.
No doubt about it, Zanth's sniff didn't sound the same, hardly punctuation at all.
FamWoman not come.
“No.” She must have received the flowers by now. Soon he could make his first scry call. Anticipation tinged with anxiety climbed up his spine.
Me go see.
“As you please.” T'Ash opened the door politely and his Fam slipped out.
Sewer rats await. Life is good.
There was a lull in shoppers around dinnertime, and T'Ash resolved to scry Danith. He started forming the image in his head, then changed his mind. Perhaps one more call to the florist.
“This is T'Ash.”
The man on the other end of the viz bowed. “Greetyou, GreatLord. How can I be of service?”
“Have my flowers been delivered?”
The man clasped his hands and smiled. “Oh, yes, GreatLord. A single white-blush rose, a posy of pansies. Now, you left the composition of the bouquet to usâ”
“Yes.”
“And we sent a mixture of seasonal bloomsâ”
“Did they smell?”
The man blinked. “Ahâ”
“They smelled good?”
The florist smiled. “I assure you they were most fragrant.”
“Fine.” Now what came after bouquets? T'Ash thought for an instant. A small arrangement in an elegant vessel. He still didn't know what an elegant vessel was. T'Ash studied the florist. No doubt the florist would know. But time was wasting, and T'Ash decided not to send some piddling little thing.
“I want a large arrangement. Your best. Huge. Fancy. Immediately.”
The florist gaped. “Now?”
“Within the half-septhour.” T'Ash would call her after she'd been impressed with it.
“GreatLord, surely.” He swallowed. “Something of a unique, elegant nature takes time. You are an artist yourselfâ”
T'Ash scowled.
The florist stepped back from the bowl until he looked small. T'Ash looked beyond the man's puce face, his straining waistcoat embroidered in gold, to something else. . . .
“What's that thing behind you?” T'Ash asked.
The man turned. “Oh, it's an arrangementâ”
“It looks to be about a meter tall.”
The florist twitched his lips in a smile. “Yes.”
“I like it. Big round blue flowers, little white starblossoms, and that green stuff.”
“A Discovery Day motifâ”
“Send it to her.”
The man started. “GreatLord. It is a banquet arrangement, hardly appropâ”
“Does it smell?”
The man drew himself up. “The Guild of Airship Technicians didn't requestâ”
“Stick some roses in it. Maybe a pansy or two.”
“GreatLordâ”
“And deliver it within the septhour.”
The florist compressed his lips. “I'm afraid our ground transportation is otherwise occupiâ”
“Teleport it to her collection boxâNo, too big.” But Danith's scry image included a table. “Teleport it to the scry locale, a few inches away from her bowl.”
“GreatLord, my most abject apologies, but we do not have someone with such Flair availableâ”
T'Ash drummed his fingers on the glass counter. “I'll scry back in fifteen minutes. You should have it looking and smelling fine by then. You can give me your coordinates and I'll handle the transport from here.” Not wanting to give the open-mouthed man any chance to disagree, T'Ash cut the scryspell.
Â
Crash! The awful noise made Danith jump. She ran
from the kitchen to her mainspace to see her small scrystand, her one expensive piece of antique furniture, lying battered amid a mass of flowers. Water puddled everywhere.
Crash! The awful noise made Danith jump. She ran
from the kitchen to her mainspace to see her small scrystand, her one expensive piece of antique furniture, lying battered amid a mass of flowers. Water puddled everywhere.
She muttered a curse under her breath and hunted for her scrybowl, finding it a moment later under her settee. She wiped at it with the corner of her tunic and checked it for chips. It looked whole; the extra gilt she'd paid for the protection spell had been worth it.
She steadied her nerves, cradled the bowl in her hands, and closed her eyes to check the magic. Like most residents of Celta, she had just enough Flair to use the common magical /technological items. Slowly she felt the bowl with her mind. Yes, the magic still coated it. With some new water and a small priming spell, it would continue to work.
Making a face, she stepped over the hideous blue globe-like flowers on the way to the kitchen. She had never liked spheris blooms. Native to Celta, they seemed monstrous to her. She filled the scrybowl and passed her hand over it to activate the magic. Then she went to check on her poor scrystand.
The giant bouquet looked as if it had gobbled her little elegant table. The bottom of one leg had snapped off. Danith set her chin. She'd loved that table! Even with Mitchella's discount, Danith had paid more than she could afford. The stand and Pansy had been the most expensive purchases Danith had ever made.
Pansy gurgled her sweet purr. When Danith looked down, her cat sat contentedly amidst the flowers, a leaf in her mouth. Danith picked up the scrystand and set it against the wall next to the door. It would need Flaired repair, and that would cost even more.
Danith slowly pulled the arrangement upright, and Pansy jumped from her spot. Petals, dirt, and leaves fell from the thing. So did a card. Danith picked it up. “Best wishes for your new management.”
Five
As soon as the shop was empty, T'Ash locked it. He
rubbed the sweat from his hands. He didn't want to look at them and see that they trembled. The big moment was upon him. Time to scry Danith. He had never spoken her name, but had thought of her as Danith since Majo told him of her.
rubbed the sweat from his hands. He didn't want to look at them and see that they trembled. The big moment was upon him. Time to scry Danith. He had never spoken her name, but had thought of her as Danith since Majo told him of her.
Danith was a very pretty name. When they wed, she'd be called Danith D'Ash. He liked the alliteration; it sounded right.
Should he compliment her on her name instead of her smile? T'Ash considered. Then realized he'd never seen a real smile from her, and especially not one directed at him.
His pulse pounded in his temples. He'd actually closed the shop for a few moments to make the call.
He breathed deeply, carefully forming the image of her scry locale in his mind. For a moment the visualization wavered, then it snapped throughâto a different place. T'Ash saw pale yellow walls and copper pans, but no lady.
“Here,” Danith said shortly, out of view.
T'Ash took another deep breath. “I'm glad to see you.”
“Who's that?” She glanced into the scrybowl with a glowering, flushed face.
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