by Robin Owens
Before he could take the other, Shunuk, who’d been watching them and keeping his thoughts to himself, hopped onto it.
Raz laughed, hauled a third chair to the table and moved the setting. He poured springreen wine for them, clinked his glass against hers, and said, “To your fascinating eyes, part of your fascinating self.”
His gaze met hers and he sipped, not breaking the contact. She found herself dropping her eyes, thinking she might reveal too much. The link between them thickened and shone inside her mind. He touched her shoulder where a patch of white showed rough in the leather, his lips curved. “My wildcat.” His hand curved around her cheek and his thumb brushed her lips.
Del couldn’t look away from him. He could move her so easily, this man, her HeartMate.
There are no such things as real wildcats, Shunuk said. Only in story holos. There are feral cats, but they are not the same. What are we eating?
Raz laughed. “I have thick porcine sandwiches. Fruit tarts.”
Shunuk rotated an ear. I like porcine. I might eat a berry tart.
“I’m glad to provide you with a good meal.” Raz set out a softleaf, unearthed a sandwich from a large picnic basket, and stripped thick bread from it, leaving a large slice of porcine.
We are Fams, Del and me, Shunuk said. We go together. He didn’t stay to see how this pronouncement was received by Raz, but abandoned his manners and nipped the porcine from the table, hauled it over to a corner to feast.
Raz filled plates, then sat and drank more of his wine. Del watched him move like a dancer, graceful—the fantasy of them making love had spun heatedly in her mind. Raz bit into his sandwich. “Mmm, excellent.”
Food from Thespian Club is always good, Shunuk said.
Del’s sandwich had tart mustard and a thin herbal spread, the porcine was crispy on both sides. Good food indeed. She ate and the quiet between them was friendly.
“I would like to see you exclusively,” Raz said.
A bite got stuck in her throat. She washed it down with wine that lay like a blessing on her tongue, complementing the meal. “Exclusivity works on both sides.”
“Of course,” he said. He popped a strawberry into his mouth, grinned when he noticed her focus had gone to his lips. She was beginning to forget why she had to keep control of this situation, why she couldn’t give in to their urges to have sex right here and now.
Shunuk gave a little cough. I would like another piece of porcine to cache for a snack later.
Del frowned. “The pet no-times are fully stocked. Plural, no-time s.”
He looked up at her with big eyes. The taste of meals from the no-times and meals from the ground are not the same.
She stared at him.
Shaking his head, Raz went to the basket and handed another slice of meat to the fox. Shunuk took it carefully in his teeth, but a string of drool fell from his muzzle. Thank you! With a swish of his fat tail, he leapt through the weathershielded window and out to the raindrop-glistening grass and wildflowers.
The sun shone and a brilliant rainbow graced the sky, seeming to curve around the starship in the distance . . . starting in the ocean to one side of the ship and ending in Landing Park in the city.
“Gorgeous,” Raz said as he looked at it.
“Yes.”
He turned and she realized she’d stood and been drawn closer to him than she’d known. Their bodies brushed.
Once again he took her hands in his, linking their fingers, and Del knew she’d forever associate that gesture with him.
He bent his head. She leaned forward.
The roar of applause filled the air.
Del jerked back, stepped aside.
Raz flushed, dipped his hand into his trous pocket, and brought out a tiny glass sphere encasing a droplet of water. The object nestled in the center of his palm and he brought it eye level.
One of the new personal scry pebbles Elfwort had invented.
“Here,” Raz said.
“Raz, you’re not at the Cherry Transport yard. Thank the Lady and Lord!” The words exploded from his father.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Fire,” the older man said, his face set in grim lines.
Fourteen
T’Cherry wiped his arm across his forehead. “You told me you might drop by, thought you mighta been caught—”
“Seratina? Others?”
“No one’s hurt, but there’s plenty of property damage, Cave of the Dark Goddess!”
“I’ll be right there.”
His father squinted. “Is that Del Elecampane?”
Del stepped close, marveled at the tiny portrait of Raz’s father in the glass and water droplet.
“Yes,” she said.
The flesh of T’Cherry’s face went heavier, his dark red brows angled down. “Sorry to say that the map you gave me earlier of Fairplay Canyon was lost. They torched our old den, been there for a century!”
“I’ll be right there,” Raz repeated. His fingers started to curl over the drop, ending the call, but Del touched them.
“I have copies,” Del said.
“Copies?”
“Yes. Even if I didn’t, I know that canyon well enough to reconstruct them.”
T’Cherry puffed a breath. “I’m grateful.”
Raz grabbed her hand. “We’re teleporting—”
“No!” yelled T’Cherry. “The yard’s a mess. The light is odd, you might not visualize right. Come by glider. Helluva thing.”
Someone shouted at him and the older man nodded at Raz. “See you soon.” The droplet in the glass turned cherry red, then clear.
“Fire,” Del murmured. Her heart clutched, but she hadn’t been in Druida when her Family had perished. Fire didn’t bother her. The little personal scry, perscry, that Raz carried touched her more. “Let me get my maps. I’ll meet you at the front door. Did you come by glider?”
“Yes.”
She nodded and teleported to her den, strode to the cubbyholes that held her maps, and pulled out those showing the terrain of Fairplay Canyon. Setting them on her draft table that was stacked with papyrus, she put her hand on the top one, said a couplet, and the maps were copied. She took the new sheets, rolled them up, put them in a leather holder, and was down at the front door in minutes.
Raz’s face was tense, his glider already humming with power.
She flung up the door and slipped inside the vehicle and they were off before the door slid closed. Raz didn’t set the glider on automatic, but drove himself. He was a good driver. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he had plenty of Cherry Transport blood in his veins. He probably had driven gliders since grovestudy. She wouldn’t be surprised if he could pilot a cargo transport or even an airship. Working Families were like that. Everyone on Inula’s side of the Elecampane’s had worked with scrys.
“I’ve given it some thought,” Raz said abruptly. He moved smoothly around a clunky PublicCarrier. “Dad must have meant the old, historic den, not the new building. It is—was—wood. Just a couple of rooms with some old stuff in them, on the outskirts of the old yard, not near the new buildings or the hangers. Dammit.”
When they reached the large port, Raz was waved through the gates and they entered an area of organized chaos.
Buildings of all sizes held gliders and cargo transports and even a few airships. The acrid smell of smoke hung in the air. Raz wove through the buildings to the far edge of the place, where the most activity was happening.
He parked Cherry and they stepped onto paved concrete. There wasn’t much dampness around and Del figured the southern part of the city hadn’t gotten as much rain as the northern.
T’Cherry was in the center of a group, barking out orders. A few nearby buildings showed singes on their brick or metallic skins. Behind him was a large seared area of collapsed beams burnt completely black, smoking in spots. The building was gone, nothing but wood and rubble.
Del’s heart squeezed. She didn’t want to think that this
is what her cuzes’ home had looked like. No, not quite. That home had been brick. She found herself panting, slid her glance away to focus on Raz’s sister, Seratina, who was speaking with fire mages . . . the people who smothered fires. Two small groups of them looked around the busy yard interestedly.
As soon as she saw them, Seratina sighed and nudged her father toward them. Del held up the map case.
His eyes brightened and he stopped talking, hurried over to them. He nodded to Raz but his gaze was fixed on Del’s tube. His ruddy complexion went deeper. “I, ah, was comparing your map to one of the early ones we had, left it there last night.” He glanced at the destroyed building, scrubbed his face.
Del avoided looking but couldn’t get away from the smoke-filled air. “The fifth survey was when gliders and airships were developed enough to make the long trip to Gael City.” Her lips showed in a brief smile. “Or I should say that was when our human Flair became strong enough to power good gliders and airships. I have fifth survey maps at home.” She hesitated, glanced at both Cherry men, then Seratina, who was gesturing to her to move her father along. So Del issued the invitation, “If you want to come by, we can compare them in my study. Like I said, Fairplay Canyon has been too narrow to handle traffic, but not only are our vehicles sleeker, I think you’ll find that it will be cost effective to smooth the floor for a gliderway and widen the walls for low-flying airships.”
T’Cherry turned and stared at the destruction. “I’m needed here.”
“Everything’s under control, Dad,” Seratina soothed. “I can handle it, just cleanup—”
“Meaning you don’t want me around,” T’Cherry said.
Seratina puffed out a breath. “Meaning that I think things would go more smoothly if you left it to me. Go. Look at the maps. You know you want to.”
Brows lowered, T’Cherry grunted, shook his head, pivoted back. “I’d like to see your maps.” He eyed Raz’s glider. “I haven’t driven that baby since I bought her for Raz.” He went over and opened the side of the glider, gestured to Raz and Del to sit in the passenger seat. His eyes twinkled. “It’ll be tight, but I don’t think you two’ll mind that.”
Before she got in, Del stroked the glossy tinting on the hood, thinking as she had when she’d first ridden in the vehicle that this beauty couldn’t be taken into the wild . . . nowhere off the sometimes problematic roads of Celta. It was a city glider. Raz was just as glossy.
She sat on Raz’s lap. He was grinning like his father and the resemblance was strong. He put his arm around Del so his hand lay just under her breast. There was no use fighting the enforced closeness, so Del relaxed into him. He smelled wonderful. His grin became a satisfied smile and his eyelids lowered. She noticed he didn’t wear much of a mask when he was with his Family. There was still the hint of Raz the son and Raz the older brother, the roles he’d grown up with.
T’Cherry winked at Raz, closed the side, freed the driver’s bar from the console, and flexed his fingers. As soon as his door lowered, they were off.
Raz was an excellent driver. T’Cherry was exceptional, a master. She’d never been in a glider with such a good steersman.
She’d never been in a glider that went so fast. She hung on to Raz. He tightened his grip on her and chuckled. They arrived at her house in half the time it had taken to get to the Cherry yard. Del was breathless, her legs a little trembly. She hadn’t known a glider could corner so well without tipping over.
T’Cherry handed her out, his arm strong when her stance was unsteady. “This baby sure goes, doesn’t it?”
“I think I’ll stick to stridebeasts,” Del said. She strengthened her knees. “Or walk.”
T’Cherry laughed. Raz climbed from the glider and set an arm around her. His hand curved around her hip.
As they walked up the front steps, it occurred to Del that it was time for midday meal. She and Raz had just eaten, but she’d bet that T’Cherry had risen near dawn and had a hearty breakfast septhours past.
“Let’s go into the dining room. Plenty of space to spread out the maps on the table,” she said. “And I can get you some lunch, T’Cherry.”
She led the way, wondering what the no-times held that he liked.
Raz met his father’s eyes as they walked through Del’s house. It was furnished in the most elaborate fashion of a decade past. The atmosphere was one of a rarely tenanted place, one of quiet occasionally broken with small human sounds.
Del hesitated at the dining room door, opened it, and a little sigh escaped her. Raz sensed that she hadn’t been in this room since she’d returned, that it didn’t hold happy memories.
With brisk movements, she spread out her wide map on the long, polished table that could seat twenty. “I’ll go get the Fifth Survey Map, Area Between Druid City and Gael City. Be right back.” She left through a white-paneled door.
Raz’s father stuck his hands in his work trous pockets and glanced around the white dining room with fancy gold medallions on the wall. “Doesn’t look much like Del, does it?”
“No.” Raz hesitated. “Did you know her parents?”
T’Cherry lifted and dropped his thick shoulders. “Not much. Started out below us in status, ended up equal or so, with a lotta socializing and being free with gilt. Knew the other line of the Family a little better. Inula Elecampane and her get. Good people. Terrible tragedy, their deaths.”
Del entered again, with a rolled map that appeared as pristine as those in the Guildhall. She took care of her tools. She spread the map out, flicked her fingers until the maps lay correctly to compare the landscape of Fairplay Canyon.
She and Raz’s father leaned over the table. “You can see that there’s been erosion in the last three centuries, and no offense to the surveyors, but they got the dimensions wrong by tens of meters.” With a tap of her finger, areas on the map enlarged and became three dimensional. She looked at T’Cherry. “You must know the measurements of your transport gliders and airships. Too bad we don’t have the technology to fly over the mountains instead of through them.”
T’Cherry grunted. “Don’t like the idea of being high in the atmosphere where you can freeze and can’t breathe on your own. Above the mountains would be faster, though,” T’Cherry said. “Stridebeast takes a week, an eightday, to Gael City. Even a glider runs a couple of days by Ambroz Pass. My best express airship time now is six septhours.” He eyed the narrow canyon. “Ambroz is wide enough for two ships. This one is only good for one, with a fast glider road in the middle and a slow lane for stridebeasts on the eastern side.”
T’Cherry opened a belt pouch and took out a small pad of papyrus, handed a sheet to Raz. “You make the CH-90 airship.”
Raz set his fingers on the papyrus to ensure the proper folds. He visualized the sleekest low-flying airship Cherry Transport and Shipping had, gathered and sent his Flair to the papyrus. The sheet twitched and folded, tore and bent until it became a miniature papyrus model of the CH-90. With another stroke of his finger, he tinted it silver and red, with the flowing name of Del’s Delight across it. Humming, he sent it rocketing through Fairplay Canyon, wasn’t too careful and it scraped along one side. “Hmm. Tight fit, but it can be done.” He smiled at Del. “A challenge for our pilots; they’re going to love you.”
Meanwhile his father had made the fastest glider they had for the transport of perishable luxury goods, tinted it a red with orange flames, and zoomed it along the twists and turns of the bottom of the canyon, his brows knit. The words Elecampane Express on the model blurred with the speed. He grunted a laugh as the model sped from the canyon right off the table, caught it with his Flair, and sent it to hover before Del. With a little bow, he presented it to her. His face had lit with glee. “That cuts the time we currently take for this model by a third. Even with the canyon being east of the direct route.” He rubbed his hands. “Thank you.”
Del smiled and stroked the little model with her forefinger. “It occurs to me that we might have done this when I first
presented the maps to you.”
His father shrugged again. “I trusted you and your rep and the eyeball we did. Had to move fast to get the land.”
“Yes,” Del said.
Raz bumped his airship against her nose and she laughed, took it, and examined it, looked at his father’s. “These are wonderful.”
“Our creative Flair,” T’Cherry said, “making models.”
“Something to be truly proud of,” Del said. She waved and the holographic canyons collapsed. The maps rolled up and lifted to a side table.
She turned to his father and said, “Would you like lunch? Lots of stuff in the no-time. I think there’s furrabeast steak and vegetables.”
“Mmmm, my thanks. I like it rare.”
Del went through another door. “Be right back. Thought I’d have some soup. We have all kinds, but I’m going with potato cheese with herbs, Raz?”
“You have beef broth with vegetables?” His father and Del stared at him, both very active people. The play had occasional physical demands but nothing like the professions of the other two. “Sure,” Del said. “I’ll get it all.”
There was a small pop and Shunuk sat in the corner. I could eat again, he said. He pointed his muzzle at Raz, Greetyou, storyman. The fox slid his gaze to T’Cherry; he raised his mental voice. Greetyou, sire of storyman. Sniffing, Shunuk added, Greetyou, pilot. I am Shunuk, Del’s Fam. His bushy tail wagged.
“Greetyou, Shunuk,” T’Cherry said gravely. He stared at the fox. “You don’t eat kittens, do you?”
Shunuk sniffed. No, not even non-Fam kittens or cats. Humans get angry if you eat pets.
“That’s right,” Del said, bringing in a tray full of food. The mingling of smells made Raz’s mouth water. He saw she’d given him some herbed flatbread that steamed with warmth. Both he and his father rose to relieve her of the weight of the tray.
T’Cherry was closer. “I’ve got it,” he said, then, “I think I might like a fox Fam. You got any brothers, Shunuk?”
“He comes from the south,” Del said. “I don’t think so, but he’s made friends with most the fox dens here.”
