“No. Broken leg. I don’t have a good description of the gliders—”
“More than one?”
“Yep. Two. But I think they’re modern. No Family clunkers for this.” He stared into Tinne’s gray gaze. “We need to investigate this. It could be retaliation.”
Tinne narrowed his eyes. “No one on our side of this situation would have stooped so low, been so dishonorable.”
Draeg raised his brows. “You’re absolutely sure? As far as I can determine, the ‘accident’ occurred a septhour before midnight.” He’d backtracked from the time he’d teleported to Loridana, calculating the few minutes before when he’d experienced her hurt.
Nearly snarling, Tinne said, “Are you asking me where I was at that time?”
Draeg shrugged.
Face flushed with anger, Tinne’s tones came precise and cold. “I was here in T’Holly Residence, with my wife and my children, training for defense in our personal sparring room. You can ask the Residence if you don’t believe me. It wouldn’t lie to cover any dishonorable actions.”
Oh, yeah, the man’s temper steamed. If Tinne hadn’t been a cuz to Draeg’s adoptive father, feud might have been called on Draeg.
Relief wound through him. He loved Tinne like a brother. Draeg rubbed his head where his hair itched from sweat and from growing out of the short cut he preferred. “Sorry. This whole situation has skewed my head. I’m not nearly as good a spy as I’d thought.” He let one side of his mouth kick up in an ironic smile. “It’s harder than it looks, pretending to be lower class, without Flair, and not being who I really am.”
Tinne’s expression softened marginally. He inclined his head. “I accept your apology.”
Draeg hadn’t really figured it was an apology, just a polite word, sorry, but let Tinne think what he wanted. Especially if the guy would give Draeg what he needed. He scratched his head some more, kept his voice mild. “Still, be best to make sure everyone on our side—” And bitterness coated his mouth at that phrase. He didn’t like being on an opposite “side” from Loridana. Guilt began to seriously gnaw at him.
He cleared his throat and continued, “Everyone on our side—T’Clover, T’Ash, T’Willow, and my Family”—whom he’d have to speak with, or ask T’Blackthorn Residence and the Turquoise House about—“are covered for not causing the accident.” More bitterness seeped into his words. “Lord and Lady know, I’m sure our opponents are providing themselves with alibis.”
Looking thoughtful, Tinne nodded, this time in a more casual manner. “You may be right.”
“And I guarantee you that T’Yew Residence would lie about the whereabouts of its Family.”
Tinne’s stare sharpened. “You think so?’
“Yes.”
Draeg drew in a sure and steady breath. “And I think it’s time we take our suspicions to the Captain of the Druida City Guards.”
“Winterberry,” Tinne said, his mouth twisting. “We have no proof.”
“No, but if this whole situation becomes messy and a scandal everyone in the city talks about, we want to be more aboveboard, show we’ve acted honorably.”
Tinne’s expression shadowed again. “We have no proof.”
“Winterberry must already be thinking about the ‘accidents’: the broken balcony that almost hurt your wife and daughter, the celtaroon incident at the GuildHall.”
Tinne grunted, not sounding as if he agreed.
“I’ll talk to him,” Draeg stated. “Since I know both sides.”
“Both sides?” Tinne snapped.
“Since I know our group, and I’ve had some experience with the Yews. Which no one else in the whole city has, including the guards.”
Swiping a hand, Tinne said, “Very well.” He sank back into the couch.
“And I want a jeweled collar from T’Ash,” he stated.
That caused Tinne’s eyes to open wide. “What! What for?”
“D’Yew’s Fam has sloughed off my hook. He’s the arrogant kind—”
“Like most cats,” Tinne interrupted, glancing at his own hunting cat lying on the couch at the edge of the perscry vision.
Draeg continued, “And I want to put a strong tracking spell on it. The thing doesn’t have to look new. In fact, better if it appears old.”
He’d keep back the fact that he had a small bond with Loridana.
Another grunt from Tinne. “I’ll arrange it. Can probably get it to you later this morning. How are you going to ensure D’Yew’s cat gets it?”
A laugh escaped Draeg. “That’s easy. There’s a rivalry between my Fam and Baccat.”
Tinne blinked, grinned. “You have a Fam? Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” Draeg smiled himself. It was good talking to someone who wasn’t a Yew, a man he knew well and liked. Someone who had known him since Draeg’s boyhood, someone who didn’t think he was a damn stableman. “My Fam is a raven. I can have him drop the collar by mistake”—Draeg didn’t want to say accident again—“while Baccat is around; no doubt the FamCat will claim it.”
“Good tactic,” Tinne said. He glanced toward a wall where Draeg knew a timer hung. “I think I’ll take myself and my wife off to bed.” Standing, he stepped over some toys to another couch, becoming smaller in the perscry as the view followed him toward another long couch. He picked up his ten-year-old sleeping son, soothed his wife awake with soft words and an equally tender smile, took her hand and kissed it, and then they all vanished, teleporting away.
Draeg was left with a yearning in his gut for what his cuz had.
A new, envious feeling. Very unwelcome.
Eighteen
Straightening the line of his shoulders from too high and tight, Draeg swiped his thumb over the perscry pebble and visualized Ilex Winterberry, Captain of the Druida City Guards. Draeg grunted. Circles within circles within circles, that’s what the Nobles were. Winterberry was a cuz a couple of steps away from Tinne Holly, or Tinne’s older brother. And the guy had handled most of the problems the FirstFamilies had over the years that involved investigations.
Yeah, circles. Draeg continued to stare at the foggy perscry. His Flair had connected with a perscry or scry bowl in Winterberry’s quarters, but the man hadn’t answered yet.
When Straif T’Blackthorn, Draeg’s adoptive father, had acknowledged the Betony Family as true Blackthorns and had taken them into his Family of three, Draeg’s parents had been raised from the lowest Noble circle to the greatest, and so had Draeg and his two natural brothers.
Draeg had been four, but he still vaguely recalled the earlier lifestyle, never really considered himself a FirstFamily son despite all that—though he’d kill or die for his Family, Betony and Blackthorn alike.
“Here,” said Winterberry’s rough and slightly panting voice, and embarrassment flooded Draeg at the knowledge he’d interrupted—or hurried—sex between the man and his wife.
Draeg cleared his throat. “I guess you’re not as accustomed to being awakened in the middle of the night as you were when you were a regular guard.”
The mist shrouding the perscry cleared, showing Winterberry’s supremely satisfied expression. One of his white brows quirked up. “Draeg Betony-Blackthorn. I’ve noticed that your depredations on the criminal life of Druida City have diminished.”
“Sorry about that?” Draeg questioned, rolling tightness that had settled between his shoulders again. On the whole, he’d been feeling significantly better since he’d come to the Yews, worked with animals on the isolated estate. He’d only fought those who might have harmed D’Yew on her midnight rambles.
Winterberry shrugged easily, “Your nightly fights removed some problems, caused others. Glad you found something else to do with your time.” He smiled—a smile that disappeared as soon as Draeg began telling his story of the group of younger Nobles sending him to T’Yew’s undercover.
At the end of his recital, Draeg heard Winterberry’s teeth click together as if biting into something not to his taste. “We of t
he guard have been taking into account all the so-called accidents going on. We have also been observing the Traditionalist Stance. Tinne Holly should have spoken to me long before this. Or T’Clover.” Winterberry paused, his expression turning impassive, his eyelids lowering over a glinting gaze. “You’re at D’Yew’s, eh?”
“She has nothing to do with this.” He paused, trying to give his next words extra weight. “I have never met a more innocent woman.”
Both Winterberry’s eyebrows climbed high. He inclined his head, and Draeg released a quiet breath in hopes that the Captain of the Guards might actually respect his opinion.
“I will take your conclusion under consideration.” Winterberry paused. “You believe this glider accident is one with the rest.”
“It feels like it’s a part of the puzzle.”
Winterberry didn’t hide his own massive sigh. “Tinne Holly is correct that we have no evidence . . . yet, to tie radical members of the Traditionalist Stance to the events. What have you learned of the Yews?”
“I am at the stables. What I’ve learned comes from speaking with the FamCat Baccat, my particular observations of the Residence, the maître de maison, Zus and Vi Yew, and what I’ve been able to glean from D’Yew herself in casual conversation.”
Now Winterberry appeared thoughtful. “D’Yew exploring Druida City at night. What is she up to?”
“I thought rebellion against the tough strictures of her Family,” Draeg said.
“Think some more. You set hooks in the twins?”
“Yes, yesterday morning. They were off the estate at the time of the glider accident, but not in the area where D’Yew was. I didn’t see them take a Family glider, so they must have teleported.”
“That means they know the place where they are going, how the light falls, et cetera.” Winterberry grunted, cast a glance at Draeg. “Could you think back and pinpoint their location?”
“Probably.”
“Do that.” Then Winterberry said, “I suppose I should thank you for this mess you’ve handed me. At least I know more about what is going on and can deploy my forces accordingly, anticipate some matters.” He showed his teeth in a smile. “I will grill Tinne Holly about all his suspicions tomorrow.”
* * *
When Lori awoke, feeling better and whole, if not as full of energy as usual, her mind went first, as always, to her plans to escape and when.
Stay or go now, tonight?
How she disliked this wavering back and forth on a decision, always trying to figure out what would be best for her animals, and her, and the Family and Residence with each new event!
Her first thought every morning, her last each night.
Not last night when she’d fainted from pain. Echoes of fear reverberated through her. There’d been moving shadows in and outside her room in the deep of the night. Worse was the bright and flashing memory of those two racing gliders heading toward her, the white light bars across the front of the vehicles seeming to trap her. She shivered.
Danger she hadn’t sensed until too late. The hair on her nape rose at the thought of any more threats when she roved the city, even simply to confirm the best route through it and out of the walled place to the southeast. Yes, another shiver rippled again.
Since she’d been dilatory, she didn’t know the streets well enough—now she wouldn’t want any narrow byways, not with eight animals instead of six, and two horses. She didn’t know if the pavement on the route would be acceptable for horses’ hooves.
Reluctantly, she decided she didn’t know the horses well enough, either. Would they follow her through the city with no problems? They hadn’t bonded with her stridebeasts or her as deeply as she wanted yet. And they’d lived on a Noble estate for years; had they ever been in the city? A lot to spook them even if they traveled in the wee septhours of the morning.
Leading eight animals through the city would be harder than ever. As for the horses, to prepare them, she’d have to touch their minds, send pictures of the city and the path to them. Just as she had been doing with her stridebeasts to get them accustomed to the idea of a trip.
She definitely had to build up more trust with Ragan and Smyrna.
Druida City had become scarier to Lori.
What with the Flair drain, and now this frightening accident, perhaps she should curtail her nightly excursions outside into Druida City proper. Calculating exactly what she must do—no more shopping or food carts, a pity—she thought she’d only need to scout two more times. Walk the full course from the northeast gate of Yew estate through the shared greenway, to a street through the big estates called Noble Country, into the city and south to the newish southeast gate.
Yes, she’d enjoyed her expeditions discovering the city, but that wasn’t why she’d gone into the busy town in the first place. Ignore any more temptation. She could do that, though she mourned a little.
Unless an imminent threat appeared, she couldn’t leave for her own new estate tonight.
Letting out a shuddering sigh, she accepted the relief flowing through her. Because she didn’t want to leave Draeg. Not before she had sex with him, though that would complicate her life, too.
She recalled the night before and Draeg’s hands on her as he set her leg and the pain that spun her into unconsciousness.
And before that, the hot kiss in the stables, the one in the grove. She squirmed as liquid heat swam through her from between her legs to suffuse her whole body. So much better to feel this than fear and pain.
Having Draeg here pleased her, and becoming lovers with him was a huge reason to stay—for the moment.
But Draeg also eroded her self-control in more than the sexual area, by treating her well, like a strongly Flaired woman.
Just leaving would be so much simpler.
No, she didn’t think she could walk away without feeling Draeg’s hands on her as a lover. Stay, then, until the weather remained warm enough that nights out on the road wouldn’t harm her animals, until she bonded well with her horses and her animals would follow her anywhere.
Not to mention the fact that once she and her animals arrived at her own estate there’d be a lot to do and no time for a lover. And she had no notion if there were any attractive men on estates nearby. So if she wanted to experience sex with a man who stirred her, she had to grab the chance right now.
The decision reaffirmed, to stay for a week, or two, three at the most.
When she went, she’d be on her own. She’d be leaving behind Draeg, but taking her animals and her Fam with her.
Focusing on her Fam, she recalled that Baccat wanted a collar, the necklace she’d received for surviving her First Passage and showing an excellent amount of Flair.
If she pulled her necklace from her treasure box here in the HouseHeart, she’d have to hide it in one of her caches until they left, but she didn’t know if she’d be back in the HouseHeart before she went away. Best she get the necklace-collar now.
As long as she’d be taking the piece for Baccat, she should remove her father’s spheres, too. All would go into the cache in the pantry and into the large saddlebags holding the most important items she’d be taking with her.
Of course the Residence knew of that cache, if not exactly what was inside the old saddlebags. But the house believed her hidey-hole held little of value and was an unfortunate emotional response to being bullied by her Family. She’d tinkered with the cupboard and the old no-time within it subtly and discreetly until she didn’t believe the Residence could keep her from accessing it. Her main objective remained to leave without alerting the Residence and Family.
With a big breath, she rose, and her leg felt whole but her stance, and her walk, a little shaky. She crossed to one of the elaborately carved cabinets, opened a top drawer, and took out her personal box—also carved wood—and lifted the lid. Lightly she trailed her fingers over the viz and memory spheres—four, cool to her touch. The velvet jewelry case with her necklace and an old ring felt contrastingly war
m. Shutting the box, she translocated it into the saddlebag in the pantry that she’d lined for that very use. Yes, another step toward leaving.
Since she still felt a little weak and stiff, she did some stretches, recalled Draeg and his patterns, and regretted that she’d have no time to learn any of those.
“Is there anything you need, D’Yew?” asked the HouseHeart.
Lori shrugged away her scheming, concentrated on the now, let out a slow breath, and said, “I love you, HouseHeart.”
“I love you, too, D’Yew.”
Yes, just hearing the title that wasn’t officially hers yet rubbed Lori raw. She had to swallow hard before she spoke again. “You know I haven’t been confirmed as D’Yew. There has been no loyalty ceremony for me to vow to honor and protect my Family and for them to vow to be loyal to me. Nor has Cuspid or Folia introduced me to the FirstFamilies of Celta as D’Yew, ah, acknowledged me, even informally as D’Yew.” Yes, that definitely rankled, and more each day. She had to leave before her control slipped.
But just as no one was bound to her by vows of loyalty, so she remained unbound to stay and do her very best by her Family. Of course, with that ceremony and the vows of loyalty, she wouldn’t have left. Because she would have the authority to enforce her orders, not only with Flair, and with the stated backing of the Residence, but because of the vows. She didn’t exactly know the weight of the authority and Flair that came with the vows, but there must be some.
“I have been ready for that loyalty ceremony for over a year.” She kept her tone light.
“I know, dear,” said the HouseHeart. “Patience. It will come all in good time.” A pause. “Change is not easy for us.”
Lori didn’t know whether the HouseHeart referred to itself and the Residence or the Family or all of those entities.
She found her teeth aching since she’d gritted them. She’d just have to dig for patience, practice all her control with her Family and the Residence. She didn’t think she’d last to the Vernal Equinox.
No. She couldn’t stand around in major celebration of the wheel of the year and not be D’Yew. Her endurance as well as her temper had shortened. Let those who ruled this place, who would lead that circle, as always, care for the estate and the Residence since they had no intention of letting her be D’Yew in anything other than the empty title. She had her own estate, her own life to live.
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