Heart Fire (Celta Book 13) (6 page)

“Now is not the time to think of HeartMates,” Tiana said severely. “I have enough to juggle with these new duties and a Fam.” Her smile was lopsided. “And it isn’t as if GrandLady D’Sandalwood will be retiring soon, as she very well told me.” All right, a hint of bitterness had entered her tone. More meditation on
that
, too.

“Speaking of your Fam,” Camellia said. “We’d love to meet him.”

“He’ll show up,” Tiana said. Recalling her interaction with the disreputable tom amused her. Good, that showed she could poke a little fun at herself. She tilted her head. “In fact, I bet if I thought
FOOD
to him, he’d be right here.” She did, sending a picture of the furrabeast bites she’d seen Camellia feed her own FamCat.

Pop!
The cat lit on the table, tipping over the dessert holder with a crash, knocking Glyssa’s plate onto the floor, yowling and whirling, tail smacking cups of tea into the air. He lunged for a clucker leg, snagged it.

Crash!
More plates and cutlery hit the floor. Good thing it wasn’t Camellia’s prized tea set.

Tiana reached for her Fam, caught him close. Camellia and Glyssa stood, staring at the destruction.

I’M HUNGRY!
RatKiller yelled mentally as he ate.

“What is going on?” The Hawthorn housekeeper popped in, holding Tiana’s gown. She stared, and then with one sweep of her arm, all the plates and utensils levitated to a large silver tray sitting on a side table.

“Manners, Fam!” the housekeeper ordered.

“He doesn’t have any,” Glyssa choked.

“That is one interesting Fam,” Camellia said, grinning.

Tiana eyed the cat, chomping at the clucker leg, and didn’t think she dared take it away from him. It smeared grease along the front of Camellia’s robe.

“What. An. Interesting. Fam,” the housekeeper said between gritted teeth.

Mortification flooded Tiana. “I am
so
sorry. I will be pleased to clean up—”

“Thank. You. No.” The housekeeper gestured and Tiana’s dress hung in the air. Then the woman gave one sharp clap and the room seemed to depressurize.

The remaining platters of food shifted to a sideboard. Camellia grabbed the teapot as it floated by, and then the tablecloth folded itself over and vanished somewhere it could be tended to.

Doors opened on a cabinet and a clean, pale-pink tablecloth draped over the polished wood of the table; more silverware laid itself at places, followed by china also in pale pink with red roses outlining the rim. Tiana shared a glance with Camellia, who rolled her eyes at the fussy spell but said nothing.

Unlike the two cats who shot through the open doors, the Fams of Camellia and her husband, Laev T’Hawthorn.

We smelled a new FamCat. A new FamCat has come to visit us and play?
Mica, the young female calico asked. She scanned the room and Tiana holding her Fam. The cat screeched and leapt onto Camellia’s shoulder.
It’s RATKILLER!
she yowled.

T
he calico cat, Mica, screeched,
He hurt me when I was a feral kitten!

Tiana’s Fam stopped gnawing on the clucker leg and looked at the new arrivals, Mica first.
I just gave you a tap.
He smiled, and because of his half fang it seemed more like a leer.
A looove tap.

Brazos leapt in front of Camellia’s feet, bristled and bottle-tailed.
She is mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, MINE. MY mate.

RatKiller snorted.

“RatKiller.” Glyssa’s lips twitched.

“He’ll need a new name, of course,” Tiana said.

“Do you want more tea, GreatLady D’Hawthorn?” the housekeeper asked, using Camellia’s title. Not the first time the three friends had been viewed with disapproval by Laev’s Family staff. It didn’t bother them.

Camellia lifted the pot she held. “Thank you, GentleLady. I can heat this up.” She looked at the remnants of their meal. “The food can be cleared, but could you translocate another dessert plate with little cakes and flatsweets?”

“Yes, GreatLady.” Back stiff with offense, the housekeeper gestured and the two massive trays, one of no-doubt antique Hawthorn china and the other of food, floated with her from the room.

RatKiller went back to chewing the clucker leg.

You are a Fam now?
the long-haired, nicely groomed black Brazos sneered.
Took You long enough. I didn’t think You’d ever find a person to like You.
He lifted a paw, licked it, and smoothed the fur over his ear.
You see this Residence? I live here, I am the TomCat here. I have a rich FamMan.

Sniffing, RatKiller nuzzled his head, and the bone in his mouth, against Tiana’s upper chest. She now had small shreds of meat on the robe. The second garment she’d ruined today.
MY FamWoman lives in the hidden garden, where Your FamMan can’t go. Where only Special People can go.

Brazos growled.
My FamMan was there once.

“Enough!” Tiana said, then cleared her throat as her cat widened his eyes in a pitiful manner. “Are you still hungry?”

He burped around the bone.
I could eat more.

Camellia stroked her FamCat. “Mica, will you show our guest, um, RatKiller, the Fam no-time storage unit outside against the patio wall?”

Yes
, the calico sniffed, too, and, adding Flair to her jump, sailed across the room to land in front of the open door. She crooked her tail.
Come on, Brazos. Come on, RatKiller.
She flicked her tail and sauntered out.

I would like hot, hot furrabeast bites!
RatKiller said.
And cold, cold milk! Does your no-time have that?

Mica said,
Of course. My FamWoman makes all our food and drink.
And a no-time would produce the food and drink at the same temperature it went into storage.

RatKiller licked under Tiana’s chin before he jumped from her arms, leaving the picked-clean bone behind.
I will see you later, FamWoman.
He didn’t walk, he swaggered. Brazos, the black cat, followed, prowling, ready to pounce. Well, better any fighting take place outside the house.

Tiana glanced down at herself and caught both her friends looking at the smeared and dirty robe. At least it didn’t look like it had any cat-claw holes.

Her friends’ lips were twitching when she glanced up again.

“RatKiller!” Camellia gasped.

Glyssa just shook her head. “You have interesting times ahead of you.”

“I guess so. I’m sorry about the robe, Camellia.”

“A cleansing spell will take care of it. Here, let’s examine your gown.”

“I should have known better than to wear white,” Tiana grumbled.

“Why? You thought you’d stay inside the Temple,” Glyssa said absently. She stroked the sleeve of the heavy cloth. “Whoever worked on this did an incredible job. It appears to be new.”

“It
is
new,” Tiana said, and walked over to check out where the ragged tear had been. She couldn’t see it.

“They rewove the threads.” She hummed in approval. “Heavy-duty Flair.”

“Your general protection spell on it as well as the fact that it is quality material and workmanship helped,” Camellia said. She was a little flushed, still new to all the wealth and skill she could command as a GreatLady.

Tiana nodded. Her perscry, a personal communication pebble that she’d placed on an end table, glowed and pinged. “Twenty minutes until your meeting with High Priest T’Sandalwood,” the calendar sphere part of the perscry announced.

“I need to go,” Tiana said.

“We’ll help you with your gown,” Glyssa said, murmuring the spell to release the dress as Camellia came around and took her robe back with not-very-suppressed chuckles. She shook her head and said, “Fams.”

Tiana stood for a moment in her undergown while her two friends slipped the formal robe over her head, murmuring more spells as they did so. The dress now fairly hummed with Flair.

With a last twitch at the skirt, Glyssa stood back. “There, you look great.”

“Take some flatsweets,” Camellia urged. She smiled at Tiana’s narrowed eyes. “They can’t hurt. And I think GrandLord High Priest T’Sandalwood particularly likes the ones with white cocoa bits.” She offered a little papyrus bag that smelled great. But no time for dessert for Tiana.

“And I’ll, ah, take care of this.” Glyssa’s mouth twitched as she picked up the clean leg bone from the carpet that Tiana hadn’t noticed. She closed her eyes and flushed, even though these were her best friends.

Glyssa kissed her on the cheek, took the bag from Camellia, and thrust it into Tiana’s hands. “A goodwill offering. Especially since you think he’s going to be as hard on you as his lady, High Priestess D’Sandalwood.”

“Glyssa,” Camellia protested.

“Well, it’s the truth.”

Tiana grimaced. “I’ve had a lot of the truth today.” She rubbed her hand over the robe, and it soothed her. Narrowing her eyes, she looked at her friends. They both tried to appear guileless; Glyssa did it better. Tiana shook her head. “Thank you for whatever serenity spells you added.” She frowned. “I don’t think we’re allowed—”

“They are spells fueled by the love of friends, and primarily to protect an expensive gown.” Camellia nudged Tiana. “Go.”

“You can nail this interview!” Glyssa said. Of course,
she’d
already gone through her tests and been promoted in her career. As for Camellia, she was a businesswoman and worked for herself, so she didn’t have to deal with performance reviews.

Hauling in a deep breath, Tiana shifted her stance as she also tried to shift her state of mind into tranquility. Mostly it worked, though some niggling, worrying bit chittered in the back of her brain, which she ignored.

“I love you both!” She concentrated on her friends, on the warmth she had for them, the love, drew it through her, along her nerves.

“We love you!” they chorused. “Blessed be!” They boosted her Flair for the teleportation.

“Blessed be.” She smiled with real sincerity and ’ported to the GreatCircle Temple’s priest and priestess lounge.

“There you are.” GrandLord T’Sandalwood, the High Priest, smiled at her, but his eyes were sharp.

She might need the flatsweets.

*   *   *

S
ince Antenn had been in the office too long and the afternoon had warmed, presaging summer, he took the box with the replacement gown for FirstLevel Priestess Tiana Mugwort and went to the teleportation pad in the lobby of his offices. “I’m heading out for the day. I’ll be in tomorrow at the regular time, or I’ll come back if Chief Minister Custos needs me here to sign papers. Scry me, then.”

His assistant, who worked the reception desk, finally smiled at him. She’d made a point of announcing loudly to the whole place when the robe had arrived a half septhour before. “Later, Boss.”

“Yes.” With his Flair, he checked the public teleportation pad near GreatCircle Temple’s east door and found it clear, flicked the switch to show he’d be using it, and ’ported.

The huge, beautiful cream-colored stone building dominated the beginning-to-green landscape. He stopped to admire it—some long-ago Earthan whose name had never been recorded had designed the temple for their new religion, and the colonists’ machines had built it. Without those machines, with just the more powerful Flair that Celtans had, they might, just might, this generation, have been able to raise a building like this.

Or make a cathedral like he aspired to do. That building wouldn’t quite be like the old ones on Earth that Antenn had researched. The Intersection of Hope religion was not an Earthan religion. The Cross Folk had different symbols, but the cathedral would have four equal arms, towering arches, and flying buttresses.

The Temple grounds seemed busy. If Priestess Mugwort was having a review, others might be also. He asked a passing, cheerful journeyman where he might find FirstLevel Priestess Mugwort’s chambers.

The young man eyed him. “She’s closeted with the High Priest.” The journeyman glanced at his wrist timer. “But they should be finished shortly. Use the north door.”

“Thank you.”

“Blessed be.”

“Blessed be,” Antenn replied.

“I
am
blessed! I made ThirdLevel Priest today!” He grinned.

“Congratulations,” Antenn said rotely, his mind on the information he’d garnered. He’d thought she’d already had her interview when she’d accompanied him this morning. She was with the High Priest now? What of her ripped gown? Dammit! He could only hope that she’d been able to do spells before the interview to fix it . . . maybe an illusion spell . . . no, a High Priest would see through a simple illusion spell, wouldn’t he? And religious people of all sorts emphasized honesty.

The box in his hands felt heavier as he recalled his offhand attitude about the dress.

He didn’t really like to recall his own past reviews as apprentice, journeyman, the last one for master. His many yearly reviews. He was an excellent architect. He was not so good at being an employee.

Shrugging the past off and trusting that the Lady and Lord would be helping their priestess, Antenn strolled along the stone path that circled the temple. Flowers and bushes were planted close to the building, then the path, cobbled in reddish stone, then a sweeping lawn. Just the beginning green sprouts of early spring flowers poked a few centimeters from the ground.

The north door wasn’t as busy with priests and priestesses and whoever else wanted to use the Temple.

Sitting in the middle of the walk, focused on the great double doors of oak outlined in brass and inlaid with a stone mosaic of a mountain scene, sat a very ugly tomcat.

He turned his head as Antenn approached. Staring, the cat said,
Greetyou
. He made no effort to move from the center of the walk. Good thing it would accommodate three abreast.

“Greetyou,” Antenn said, turning to go up to the doors. The cat rose to his feet and trotted along.
You are going in? Good. You can hold the door for Me.
His smile neared a smirk.

“Are you allowed in?” Antenn asked. He’d taken his own Fam, Pinky, to several rituals, but it had been understood that Fams were welcome at those times. He didn’t know whether they were on a day-to-day basis.

The cat lifted his nose.
I am sure.

Antenn wasn’t. “Who are you waiting for?” he asked casually, pausing before the doors, and taking time to admire the fine craftsmanship.

Every muscle of the cat’s body swelled with pride, his head lifted, and his tail waved.
I am waiting for My FamWoman, Tiana Mugwort.

Antenn let his hand fall from the handle of the door. “You? You’re FirstLevel Priestess Tiana Mugwort’s FamCat?”

The cat’s half ear twitched.
Just today, We became Fams. A Very Important Day.
Again his tail thrashed.

Antenn’s lips twitched. “No doubt.”

We will go in.
The Fam stopped, expecting Antenn to open the heavy doors for him. Glancing down, Antenn considered. He’d never seen a less impressive cat. One who thought the world revolved around him. Even Zanth, T’Ash’s Downwind Feral Fam, was somehow more civilized than this one.