Heart Fire (Celta Book 13) (18 page)

Mitchella walked around him. “Looks good. Otherwise, how do you feel?”

The brightness of the light, of all the colors of the room, of his mother’s hair, had faded to normal. She was speaking in a low voice but not a whisper, and the sound didn’t spear his eardrums.

“Well enough.”

She nodded. “That’s fine.” She stepped closer, stopped and made a face, then retreated a pace. “The garment works, but I wanted to give you a hug.”

He put on his most disappointed face but flinched inwardly. “Tonight, Mitchella.”

Air-kissing, she said, “Yes. I’ll expect you for dinner.”

“I’ll be here.”

“And you can tell us what your clients and the High Priest and Priestess want from us with regard to the ritual in more detail.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She opened the door and glanced over her shoulder. “Blessed be.”

“Blessed be,” he replied.

She shut the door and the HouseHeart said, “There is an incoming scry from the Chief Ministers of the Intersection of Hope. They would like you to meet them at the building site in a septhour.” The no-time against the wall opened. “You can eat breakfast here, first.”

*   *   *

A
rough tongue licking her cheek—
not
the tongue of her lover, which she hadn’t tasted since she’d been more interested in other things—dragged Tiana from sleep and she stared into Felonerb’s green eyes. His breath wasn’t nearly as bad this morning. Not great, but . . . bearable. Or maybe she was just getting used to it.

Still, she’d rather linger on the dream sex than whatever her Fam wanted to say.

He smiled his ingratiating smile.
High Priestess called ME!

She sat up and rubbed the back of her neck. Spring-night chill remained in the room, but her clothes stuck a little to her body . . . from love perspiration. She must have finally connected with her HeartMate . . .

Holy Lady wants to see the ritual before you give it to other holy guys.

O
f course the High Priestess wanted to see the ritual before Tiana gave it to the Chief Ministers. Tiana rubbed her scalp, her head. Luckily it didn’t seem like another migraine threatened.

She switched her thoughts back into regular channels of work and superiors. Why hadn’t she anticipated that the High Priestess would want to see the ritual? Because Tiana doubted the woman knew much at all about Intersection of Hope rituals . . . except what D’Sandalwood brushed up on in the last few days.

Irritation bloomed. Tiana and her mother had worked hard on this ritual, and both agreed it was good. Now she had to run it by D’Sandalwood? Adding another stress-element to the day, and cutting short any breakfast time Tiana might have squeezed in.

But the High Priestess was her boss. She huffed out a frustrated breath, flicked the fingers of her hands to rid herself of the negative energy. She was tired, and, yes, she should have anticipated this. If she had, she wouldn’t have been caught by surprise.

Felonerb rubbed against her side and purred. She petted him. His fur felt better after even one day of care. “Thank you for waking me up.”

You are welcome.
He sat and lifted his muzzle so she could scratch under his chin, so she did.
Holy Lady wants you at Temple quick.

Tiana sighed, knowing another Whirlwind cleansing and dressing spell was in her future, and teleportation to the Temple. Not one minute to think of other things, like meeting her HeartMate in a sex dream. “BalmHeal Residence, will you lower your shields so I can teleport from my sitting room to GreatCircle Temple, please?”

“Yes,” he grumbled with creaking wood. “It’s good that you are moving out. Rush, rush, rush. Do this, Residence. Do that.”

Tiana pressed her lips together to stop a comment that would escalate the annoyance of them both. “I will be back sometime today, to pack some of my belongings and move them to the Turquoise House.” She hoped.

“I can pack your clothing,” Tiana’s mother said from the door. She must have knocked, but Tiana hadn’t heard her. After the long night and little sleep, Quina looked a whole lot better than Tiana felt.

“Thank you,” Tiana said.

Her sister showed up behind her mother. “If you can spare a couple of minutes to show me what you want, Garrett and I will take some boxes into town for you and leave them at the Turquoise House. I heard that you’ll be gone for a couple of months, at least.”

“That’s right.”

“How are you feeling?” both of them asked together, love emanating from them.

“I’m fine. I drank an additional migraine potion at TQ’s yesterday.” She smiled at her sister. “You stocked the medicines?”

“I did, yes.”

“We’ll make sure you have replacements, too,” Quina said.

“What time is it?” Tiana asked, slipping from the bed.

“About an hour and a half before WorkBell.”

Holy Lady said come as soon as possible.
Felonerb licked his front paw and smoothed it over his ear.
I will stay and supervise the packing.

“Don’t go near my good work robes,” Tiana said. She closed her eyes, summoned her energy. “Whirlwind Spell standard professional tunic and trous.” Keeping the image in her mind, she initiated the spell and suffered through it, dry cleansing that never felt as good as a bath and made her squeak as it removed any traces of the dream loving.

Then she stood, panting and staring at her relatives. Artemisia was boxing up her favorite little items from the top of her bureau. “Will you want your pillow?” her sister asked.

“I don’t think so. TQ will have new ones.”

Artemisia smiled. “He’ll have pretty much new everything. Last time I was there he’d even moved some walls around.”

“New will be nice,” Tiana said, lifting down the drawing on the wall. “I want this with me.”

“That is
my
frame,” the Residence said.

“All right, I will pay you for it,” she said stiffly.

A creaky grumble. “You may have it. But it is made of wood from one of
my
Earthan trees.”

The Residence considered the whole estate his, though he couldn’t monitor anything outside his walls.

“I will treasure the frame,” Tiana soothed, taking time for the oldster she didn’t think she had. “And I’m sure the Turquoise House will, too.” Two breaths and she made an impatient gesture. “I have to go.”

She was enveloped in soft hugs from her mother and sister. Her mother kissed her hair. “The ritual is wonderful. Have no doubt about that.”

“I don’t,” Tiana said, and it wasn’t exactly a fib. When she wrote rituals in a Flair trance, they were usually special. “I must get my materials.” She went to her desk in her sitting room. Thank the Lady and Lord she’d made six clean copies of the rite. Four for the ministers, one for herself, and one for Antenn Blackthorn-Moss. She hesitated, then put the two most important books and all her drafts into a large portfolio, slipped all but one of the copies inside. Best to have them in case she had to revise. She raised a hand to her mother and sister, then teleported away to the pad in the atrium outside D’Sandalwood’s chambers at GreatCircle Temple.

The spellglobes in the small room were night-dim and no one sat at the reception desk.

Please come in
, the High Priestess sent to Tiana’s mind.
I am in my inner office.

Not the less formal sitting room. Composing herself, Tiana walked into the suite and saw the High Priestess behind her large but elegantly carved desk. Tiana placed the rite on the table and stood until D’Sandalwood gestured to a chair.

The High Priestess scanned the ritual, brow wrinkling. At the end, she looked up. “This is a very basic ceremony, and, ah, slightly stranger than those I’ve perused in our archives.”

“My mother and I discussed the whole matter and created a rite that harks back to the first celebrations of the Intersection of Hope faith, reflects its very roots.” She met the High Priestess’s gaze. “I think that anyone who believes in the Lady and the Lord should also be able to celebrate this rite with those of the Intersection of Hope . . . no matter that the chants are to four instead of two, and that there is a specific procession and the final shape is a square instead of a circle.”

D’Sandalwood inclined her head. “Yes, it will be slightly uncomfortable for we who worship the Lady and Lord, the Lord and Lady, but . . . seems invigorating.” She set the papyrus aside. “Neither my HeartMate nor I should have problems with this, and the chants and responses are easily learned.”

Easily learned for someone who memorized such things all the time. Tiana fully expected that any FirstFamily Nobles who showed up, such as T’Blackthorn and D’Blackthorn, might have trouble recalling the odd words, the times to occasionally bow, turn in another direction, and bow again, the special gestures.

D’Sandalwood said, “I congratulate you on a job well done.”

“Thank you, High Priestess.”

There was a pause and the woman tapped her forefinger on the papyrus, staring past Tiana. “After the joint press conference yesterday, I was surprised to be contacted by some council members. Some of those involved in the Traditionalist Stance movement.”

More silence, and she didn’t elaborate who of which council had scried her—the Commoner Council, NobleCouncil, or FirstFamilies Council.

Shaking her head, D’Sandalwood said, “They had . . . concerns . . . about the Intersection of Hope building this cathedral. Rather baffling.” Her brows went up. “And actually asked whether I and T’Sandalwood truly approved.” She sounded less than calm when she reported this, and her lips thinned.

Her gaze met Tiana’s. “We have asked you to keep us apprised of the project.” The High Priestess hesitated. “Though we don’t anticipate any trouble, we do want you to report any problems, no matter how slight, with regard to this matter. And understand that you can count on our support.”

“Yes, High Priestess.”

Again the woman’s gaze swept the short and simple ritual once more. “I think this is very well done.”

“Thank you.”

D’Sandalwood waved a hand. “Go see to your chambers here and your new quarters at the Turquoise House. I noticed that they are not yet furnished and ready.”

Tiana had barely had time to do anything other than what she’d accomplished. She dipped her head and withdrew.

She hurried to her two rooms and began to arrange the items in her office, set up her simple desk and a plain but beautifully thin china old-fashioned scry bowl. She poured bespelled water into the Flaired-tech bowl and ran her finger around the rim to start the working, and both the bowl and her perscry pebble sounded an incoming call.

Chief Minister Custos’s face beamed at her when she answered. “Greetyou, Tiana.”

“Greetyou, Chief Minister Custos.”

“We would like you to meet the four of us at the site of our cathedral so we can read and block out the ritual you wrote.”

“My mother and I wrote,” Tiana corrected, not falling into the trap. “I would not presume to create a ceremony for you without her help.” And if she’d thought she could yesterday morning, this morning she knew the folly of that. “We think you will be pleased.”

“Will SecondLevel Healer Quina Mugwort also be joining us?” His brows arched.

“Not today, she has other duties.”

He dipped his head. “We will welcome her whenever she returns to share celebration with us.”

“Thank you, I will let her know that and fervently hope that she will join you in the future.”

“We would especially like her to take part in the ritual she crafted,” Custos said.

“I will do my very best to persuade her.”

“And your father and sister and brother-in-law?” Custos continued smoothly.

“I cannot speak for them, but I am hopeful they will be present.” Artemisia would come just because she was Artemisia, a kind soul. Garrett would come because he was endlessly curious about everything.

Someone called to Custos, and Tiana couldn’t make out the words. “We’ll see you shortly,” he said.

“I’ll be right there. I’m taking a Temple glider,” Tiana said, not even having to check with the High Priestess to know one would be awaiting her.

This time she enjoyed the luxury alone and actually missed her irreverent Fam, though she did notice that when the vehicle passed through the southern gates of Druida City, the guards stared at her with considering expressions.

Everyone, now, knew that a big spiritual structure was being built on the open area of the plateau. A tingle settled between her shoulders. She wasn’t a warrior, or a detective, but she was a counselor and when she got that tingle, it meant trouble. Now that she thought about it, that tingle had been with her for the last couple of days and had begun again when she’d listened to the High Priestess this morning.

And when she stepped from the glider to see the four Chief Ministers and Antenn Blackthorn-Moss, it felt a lot like the first morning she’d been there, including the chill wind . . . and then she understood that the wind was warmer, but the atmosphere, a warning carried on the wind, invisible, to her ears, to herself, contained a vibration of wariness, and danger. More than just the wind, a tiny drift of a smoky smell made her nose twitch.

Her eyes widened when she saw the deep trenches that outlined where the walls of the cathedral would go.

The ministers and Antenn gathered around her and she handed out the papyrus with the ritual, kept her last-messy-draft herself.

Grumbles came from Foreman and she tensed, but the rest had good comments, though she sensed there would be some discussion about the choice of chants and spells and incense. She hadn’t included the mixture with pylor.

“Let’s try this out,” Custos said.

“It’s going to take a septhour!” Younger protested.

“The sooner we begin, the sooner we end.”

Younger wiggled his shoulders. “I don’t know some of the chants.”

All the other ministers stared at him. Elderstone looked appalled. “You should have them memorized.”

Tiana whipped out the chant book she’d used from her portfolio and handed it to him.