Read Heart Fortune (Celta) Online
Authors: Robin D. Owens
Zem bent his head.
Thank you, Myrtus.
His eyes gleamed and he looked healthier. A small breath like a burp came from the bird.
I am done now and would like a nap in our tent.
Lepid sat up, offered his paw.
I would like the rest of his furrabeast bites!
The plate didn’t hold many, but Jace gave it to Myrtus, who flicked each at the fox and laughed when he caught them in his mouth.
“All gone,” Myrtus said. “And I know your FamWoman feeds you well, Lepid, and that you hunt. You don’t want to get fat.”
I am a young and growing fox,
Lepid said, his expression still hopeful.
“Enough of you, take yourself out of my mess tent.” Myrtus waved him away, but his tone was cheerful.
“Hmm,” Jace said. “Just a minute, Lepid.” Jace bent down and stroked the fox, found his collar. “Maybe you could transport Zem here to eat when he gets hungry and I am working.” Pray to the Lady and Lord that Jace would get back down into the ship, or doing something more with his hands.
“Let’s try an experiment.” Jace held his arm out for Zem, when the hawkcel climbed onto it, he lowered his Fam to Lepid’s back. Showed the bird Lepid’s collar that he could curve his claws over.
Very quietly, gliding more than walking, Lepid went to the door of the tent and through it. There weren’t very many people in the mess hall, but those who were there, clapped at the trick.
Jace caught up with the two Fams just outside the door.
Want up!
Zem fluffed his feathers.
I do not like being so low to the ground. Bad.
Lepid yipped.
It is fine! I can slink and run through low holes and hide under bushes!
Bad,
Zem repeated.
“That won’t work, then.” Jace picked his Fam up and put Zem on his shoulder, and got a wave of satisfaction from his companion through their link.
I am a bad stridebeast,
Lepid said, but he sat and his eyes showed amusement.
I will hunt and get more food for you, Zem.
That sounded good, as did the cat Carolinia’s offer, but Jace wouldn’t forget again that he should be the main source of food for his Fam until Zem could hunt for himself.
Jace considered. “I could translocate you.” He wasn’t great at that, or teleporting, and it took a lot of energy, but he could do it. Better start practicing more, in any event.
Why would anyone want to teleport when they could fly?
Zem asked.
“Good point, but you can’t fly just yet,” Jace said. “And I think I could teleport us farther than you could fly.”
Running is BEST,
Lepid said, and took off.
* * *
G
lyssa fumed when Sanicle took her arm, but didn’t protest. She was
such a coward, fearing the wilderness so close to the camp.
“So, did you like the sunrise?” Sanicle asked.
“Beautiful.”
“It is, and that’s a good spot to see it. Almost as nice as the lake that’s close. I’ll have to take you there sometime. Pretty blue. Bluer than the Great Platte Ocean next to Druida. Though not as blue as the Deep Blue Sea.” He glanced down at her and gave her another practiced smile. His teeth were white and even. “The Elecampanes usually give us all a couple of weeks off at the end of the season and Del runs a trip to the Deep Blue Sea. You should go.”
“That sounds nice,” Glyssa said. She frowned. “How soon do you think the season will end?” She hadn’t been here that long, wasn’t nearly ready to leave. Though her field trip report and the transcription of Hoku’s journal consisted of many pages, her story remained pitiful. She pursed her lips in irritation at herself. She didn’t know what to do to fix that.
“When will the season end? Depends on when the steady rains come.” He glanced around at the trees, the sky. “We might have almost two more months . . . or not. I don’t think the Elecampanes will leave this year until winter really sets in, there’s too much going on.”
“You’re assigned to Squad One, people going down into the ship,” Glyssa said.
“Yeah.” This time his smile came and went. No one had gone down into the ship since the explosions except a daily run by Lepid and Carolinia that brought back images of the first section of the corridor.
Del D’Elecampane had begun a map showing every item, box, sack, and odd belonging in the outer room and hallway.
“When will you be descending into
Lugh’s Spear
again?” May as well push and prod. She didn’t care what
he
thought of her.
“I dunno.” He masked his expression, shook his head. “Bad luck stalks us.”
Glyssa snorted. “Human pranks.”
He shrugged and picked up pace. The camp came in sight and she thought of pulling away but some animal roared in the forest. She flinched and matched Sanicle’s stride. No, she didn’t want to be alone outside the encampment, even if it was within view. She’d take this lovely adventure in small steps.
“What’s that?” Her voice sounded curious, not nervous, good!
Sanicle tilted his head. “Wild bissert porcine, I’d imagine.” He licked his lips. “Good eating. The smarter ones have already left the area. I’ll let Del D’Elecampane and some of the other folks who like to hunt know.”
“Ah.”
“The bissert is smaller than the average farm porcine.” Sanicle cocked a brow at her. “Only dangerous if you’re alone and citified.”
Glyssa couldn’t relax with his teasing, mostly because she didn’t like his touch, but didn’t want to offend him right here and now. She tried to say lightly, “You didn’t see my follow-up spell.” Damn, she sounded prissy.
“I’m sure you had one.” His smile said otherwise. She didn’t disabuse him of that notion, and finally they reached the camp.
They walked through the spellshield and into tent town. The first person they saw was Funa Twinevine glaring at them.
Seventeen
H
ere she is, Zem! Here she is, Jace!
Lepid said as he trotted up to her.
Zem clicked his beak.
Greetyou, Glyssa.
“Greetyou, Zem. Greetyou, Jace. Andic, thank you for your company back,” she said.
Sanicle bowed and made to kiss her hand. She drew it away before he could do so and he straightened with a flushed face. His mouth turned petulant.
She bobbed him a curtsey and his eyes widened as if not many women had given him one. A self-satisfied expression formed on his face.
“We’re late to the first breakfast sitting. The waffles are probably all gone,” Funa said curtly. She turned on her heel and walked with rolling hips toward the mess tent. Sanicle’s gaze went straight to her backside and he followed, caught up with her and slid an arm around her waist.
Glyssa squatted and let Lepid lick her cheek, rubbing him with both hands. Now his breath smelled more like human food. “Did you eat, then?” she asked.
I got some furrabeast! Jace was with me!
Lepid caroled in her mind. She glanced up at Jace.
“That’s right,” he said.
Clearing her throat—how good he looked, even scowling—she said, “Sanicle said he heard bissert porcine in the forest. Will you go hunt it?”
Jace stroked Zem, scratched him on the neck. “No. I don’t need to.” He paused. “Though I could if my belly were empty. You look nice.”
She simply closed her eyes when her face and neck went fiery, inhaled a breath and fought the embarrassment. When she opened her lashes, Jace still studied her. She rose. “Sanicle frightened me. All I could think of was a whirlwind dress spell.”
One side of his mouth quirked. “Whirlwind dress spell.” Then his brows came down. “That strips you, doesn’t it? Cleans you and your clothes. The guy saw you naked.”
Glyssa stood stoically. “Yes.” She shrugged. “But if we’d been in a Druida City bathhouse—”
“Personal privacy is more prized here in camp,” Jace said. “Because we have less of it.” Then his eyes unfocused and his smile returned. “Though a lot of folk don’t mind nudity much.”
Glyssa thought he meant women. She shrugged.
“You seemed friendly enough with Sanicle,” Jace pressed.
“I’m not accustomed to being outside in uninhabited territory alone,” she said. Her gaze met his, though she didn’t tell him how much she’d wanted to see the natural beauties outside the camp with him.
The bell rang for the second seating of breakfast. “I’m hungry,” Glyssa said, surprised to find it was true. “I’ll see you later.”
Jace nodded. “Yes. Time to have Zem checked out.” He walked away and she refused to follow him with her gaze. Instead she strode to her own tent.
Zem needs a lot of food,
Lepid said.
Eating like a bird . . . yes, they ate all the time, didn’t they?
I will have to hunt more. I would like to go with D’Elecampane to hunt the bissert. Do you think she will let me go to hunt the bissert?
“I think if her own FoxFam is hunting, you should be allowed, too,” Glyssa said.
Lepid’s tail drooped.
I do not want to ask that Shunuk fox. Will you ask D’Elecampane for me? That will make up for you walking with Sanicle and scaring off my mocyn.
So Glyssa went past her pavilion and informed all three of the Elecampanes of Sanicle’s theory and requested Lepid be allowed on the hunt. Raz said he’d watch out for her fox, and Lepid stayed near the man as the Family discussed the matter.
When she got to her tent, she collapsed in the chair, sinking into the too-soft cushion, began to undo her tight braids, and used her fingers to comb out her hair.
Was she really so naive that scaring her had been irresistible, like Sanicle said? Probably. And she
still
was stiff backed enough not to like the game he had played.
The incident had already soured her morning, and the feelings that had welled inside her that moment on the rise fleetly sped from the grasp of her mind. She only knew there’d been a peace and a wonder . . . and . . . and maybe a love for the wilderness that called to something inside her that had never been touched before.
Or that she’d only found in Jace’s arms, years ago.
She liked this place and soon every day would bring a new discovery.
But now relations with five people, including her own self, were smudged. Sanicle thought she was a snob because she’d been stiff with him after his joke. The woman he slept with, Funa Twinevine, saw her as a rival. Lepid was unhappy because Sanicle had interrupted his time together with Glyssa, showed her more of the wilderness. Though that was not Glyssa’s fault.
Jace . . . had Jace’s feelings been hurt when he saw her hand on Sanicle’s arm, or only Jace’s pride?
* * *
T
he Healer Symphyta confirmed that Zem needed more weight, and
sent Healing through him, but Jace knew it wasn’t enough.
And as he walked back down the main thoroughfare, and approached Glyssa’s tent, he knew what he had to do. The solution to their problem had teased the back of his mind, but he hadn’t wanted to admit it. Hadn’t wanted to think he’d have to ask a favor from the woman whose help had made him angry before.
But if anyone in camp had multiple no-time storage units, food or otherwise, it would be Glyssa Licorice who’d been outfitted by GreatLord Laev T’Hawthorn, with no expense spared.
A no-time storage unit for Zem’s recently dead, not cold, maybe blood-yet-pulsing prey, would be a good answer for everything. Especially if Zem could access the unit himself.
He angled toward Glyssa’s tent.
We are going to see FamWoman?
asked Zem, clicking his beak in a manner that Jace sensed was approval.
“Yes. I think she can help us.”
Of course.
Zem shifted. From the corner of his eye, Jace could see the bird preening.
The Elecampanes left her pavilion, nodding to him and went next door to their own tent. Jace got the idea they were communicating telepathically.
He stopped outside Glyssa’s open door. Narrowing his eyes, he could see a strong spellshield, probably more than the one keeping insects out.
That the camp was less secure than it had been, that he thought less of the people he worked with—someone had tainted
all
their reps—dimmed his spirit a little.
“Greetyou, Glyssa Licorice,” he called.
We are here!
said Lepid, as enthusiastic a greeting as if the fox hadn’t just seen them.
Glyssa moved from the side of the tent to the door, interest in her eyes, her brows lifted. “Greetyou.”
She didn’t automatically move aside to welcome them in. That irked Jace, but he had to admit he deserved it.
Greetyou, Glyssa,
Zem said, angling his body a little so the one shaft of sunlight streaming through the clouds hit a beautiful outstretched wing.
“You’re very beautiful today, Zem,” Glyssa said. So she’d understood Zem’s posturing, too.
So are you.
She smiled and her face plumped and softened and she
was
beautiful. More beautiful than she’d been after the whirlwind spell.
“Come on in.” She whisked the spellshield aside with a gesture, and Jace walked through . . . and too close to her, because her fragrance wrapped around him and lust speared straight to his cock. He had to use a spell to diminish his reaction, and that was a damn shame.
“I’ve got a special perch for you, Zem,” she said with another graceful gesture to a battered, wooden runged chair that Jace had seen before in someone else’s tent. No doubt she’d purchased the thing for Zem. Tenderness stirred in Jace, not just sexual attraction. Danger!
“Thank you,” Jace said.
Thank you,
Zem said.
And I can sit on the seat when you sit on the top rung!
Lepid said, hopping onto the woven seat that contained a jagged hole he didn’t seem to mind.
“Zem is a top rung kind of bird. Top-of-the-pyramid,” Glyssa said. “Can I get you caff or tea?”
The caff in the camp ranged from person to person, but in the dining tent Jace had just come from, it was great. Tea he didn’t get often and he knew Glyssa carried a selection provided by her friend,
the
mixer of tea. He’d taste something new. “Tea’s fine.” He settled Zem on the top of the chair, then glanced outside at the morning and the dark clouds gathering. When he looked back, she’d moved to the no-time food storage unit in the corner of the sitting room, the largish one he’d seen in her duffle when he’d helped her set up her pavilion.
She brought out steaming, fragrant tea in a nice cobalt blue pottery mug, nothing too delicate for a man’s hand, and a platter of flatsweets that also appeared to be warm. A cocoa chip flatsweet looked melty.
He sat in the chair she indicated, a nice plump cushion under his ass, so different than the other chairs in camp.
Their fingers did not brush when she handed him the mug, offered the plate of flatsweets. He’d hurt her. He steeled himself against guilt, he had enough of that with Zem. And she’d irritated—hurt, something—him first by insinuating he couldn’t take care of his own problems. By wanting more from him than he wanted to give.
Scared him with the upsurge of deep feelings he’d felt when he’d first seen her. Rushed to his defense, claiming a link with him that was all too true but one he’d wanted to deny, to himself as well as others. So he was immature. He never claimed to be a good man. He had his own honor, yes, but he didn’t consider himself kind or good. Well, better than his mother, but he had her blood in him.
Glyssa would equate honoring your word with good.
Lepid was whining for flatsweets again. She sent him a frown, then chose one with a raisin instead of a cocoa chip and broke it apart and gave a piece to her Fam.
Jace took the cocoa chip flatsweet. She did, too, though the drink she chose was caff. She put the plate on the study table, sat across from him in another plush chair.
They ate a couple of minutes without speaking, the only sound in the tent was Lepid’s crunching. She remained quiet well. Didn’t fidget as he wanted to do, though he couldn’t say the silence was uncomfortable—yet. He could still smell her, the whole pavilion reflected the scents of Glyssa, her natural body fragrance and the herbal lotions or whatever she used that pleased and suited her.
But the more the quiet pressed around him, the more he thought of the other intimate time they spent in each other’s company not talking much. He loved the way she whimpered in her passion. He swallowed wrong and coughed, leaning forward.
She leapt from her chair, placed a hand on his back and muttered, “Clear!” and flatsweet crumbs vanished from his airway. The heat from her hand, the shape of her fingers he could feel through his shirt, reminded him all too well of how those hands stroked him, aroused him, brought him pleasure—both in dreams and all-too-long-ago reality.
Sitting up, he forced her to move away, and gulped down a slug of tea that tasted of mint and plants harvested beneath a hot sun, releasing dark flavor. “Thanks,” he said.
“You’re welcome.” She grabbed her own caff with a hand shaky enough that she spilled a few drops on the carpet. She didn’t seem to notice.
More crunching sounds came as she bit into her own flatsweet, though she didn’t look as if she was tasting it. Appeared like she was taking a short trip to the past, too.
That gave him an ego boost. Enough that he didn’t choke again when he said, “I’ve come to ask for a favor.”
Her eyes went dark brown with wariness. “What?”
He grimaced. “I’m having a hard time keeping Zem fed. I can’t catch his prey for him, and he is having real trouble eating long-dead meat like furrabeast bites the cook stores.”
“Oh.”
“I think Zem—we—would do better if we had a no-time to store the prey Lepid and Carolinia kil—hunt for him.”
“Carolinia?”
“We made a deal.”
“Ah.”
Though he wanted to savor it more, he finished his tea, set the mug on the floor and leaned forward again,
willing
her to feel his need—his need for help with his Fam, nothing more. He was lying to himself, but now was not the time to consider that. “How many no-times do you have?”
“Three.”
“Three!” The exclamation—almost accusatory—escaped before he could stop it.
She flushed. Beautifully, accenting her few freckles. Her spine stiffened and she sipped her cup of caff, staring at him with eyes cooler than her cheeks. When she lowered her mug, she said, “I did not pack all the no-times.”
“Laev T’Hawthorn,” Jace said.
“That’s right. There is a very small personal vault no-time for valuable items. Secondly, unbeknownst to me, he took a PublicLibrary book, papyrus, and document archival storage unit and had it fitted with a cutting-edge spellshield and no-time spell for records and vizes.” She waved to the new food and drink no-time in the corner of the tent. “And there is that.”
“I see.” Well, he only saw the food one. The others must be in her bedroom.
Glyssa stood. “You may have the food no-time. It would be the best for your purposes, anyway. It has an antigrav spell on it so we can move it to your tent.” It would take up a good deal of space in his tent.