When she entered her bedroom, Fairyfoot sat in the middle of the bed, radiating love and purring loudly. Dufleur stared, then finally figured out that she was looking at a reformed cat, a true loving Familiar companion. For the moment.
She sighed and undressed to put on more casual clothes, shabby trous and a long work tunic with slits to the waist. She stared uneasily at the safe that still held Saille’s HeartGift, then flopped onto the bed, making Fairyfoot jump aside. The cat started to hiss, cut herself off, and smiled instead.
Fairyfoot gave a little cough. The MistrysSuite in T’Willow Residence is looovely.
“I don’t want to hear about that Residence, or that man.” Dufleur wriggled around until she was comfortable and folded her arms under her head.
Where have you been? Fairyfoot sounded conciliatory.
“To Agave’s.”
Fairyfoot sputtered. Nasty man. I should have gone, too.
“You weren’t here. You were about your own business.”
Learning about our FamMan, she said slyly.
“Huh,” Dufleur said, more interested in her conclusions about Agave.
Fairyfoot climbed on Dufleur’s stomach, curled around, and stared at her. What of the nasty man?
“I don’t think he is nearly as competent with time as my father.”
Or you. You are better than your father. And nasty man is an upstart.
“The Agaves have more than a century of Familial Time Flair, that’s not upstart.”
Compared to Thymes, from Discovery Day.
Dufleur smiled. “Not quite. I think the oldest records in the GuildHall put us as recording our Flair and our Family name and GrandLord title at seventy years after colonization.”
Old.
“Um.” She shifted on the bed. “The more I think about it, the more I believe Father mentioned a partner . . .” Her memories of shortly before the tragedy had been fogged with grief. “He seemed more secretive than usual. And I think we had more gilt.” She thought of her mother; Dringal hadn’t known about any income.“At least enough to buy a few new pieces of equipment.” Following that notion, she said, “But now that I’ve spoken with him, I’m sure Agave wasn’t Father’s partner. If he had one.”
Don’t know. Fairyfoot stopped mid-sniff and purred again.
“No,” Dufleur said, petting her cat. “You weren’t my Fam then. I’m glad you’re here.” The few hours’ sleep she’d gotten between the examiners and waking in Saille’s arms now felt all too short. Drowsiness crept upon her. “Glad you’ve decidedto be reasonable.”
FamMan loves Us.
The twinge of alarm Dufleur felt at that statement wasn’t quite enough to keep her from falling asleep.
With no matchmaking appointments, and a restlessness at wanting to claim Dufleur and being unable to do so, Saille dressed warmly and walked the estate. Set in Noble Country, that portion of Druida where most FirstFamilies had their Residences,it was large with several outbuildings. He tramped the grounds to one corner near the cliffs overlooking the Great Platte Ocean and wondered if Dufleur would like the view of the sea and the sky and thought she would. It would be a wonderfulchange from stone walls or the bland view outside the windows of her new laboratory.
Then he considered if the ground was solid enough to withstandan explosion.
The very thought of it gnawed at his gut. He didn’t want Dufleur involved in anything so dangerous that it would harm her—let alone his Family, Residence, and estate. But he recalledhow he’d had to hide the fact that he practiced his own Flair in the country from his MotherDam. It was easy to rememberhow he ached to use his gift to the fullest. What beautifulchina he’d made with his creative Flair when his greatest Flair had been stifled. Rather like the beautiful embroidery Dufleur had hanging in Enlli Gallery.
How much did she experiment with time? How dangerous was it really? He shivered and knew it wasn’t solely from the cold, clear day. And what an odd and wonderful Flair to have. Time.
He had no clue about the nature of time.
But he knew Flair and the strength of it, and knew Dufleur’s was powerful. That eerie gray plain he’d visited. A construct of her Flair, she had called it. Something to do with time. He’d seen her garbed like a golden Lady, the Lady who controlled time? Another shivering thought. He didn’t know what she’d seen, or how he’d appeared, but he recalled the clarity of the dream-place, how he could use his own Flair there to discover the problems in the matches his MotherDam had made.
He didn’t know who he could talk to about this. Who he could possibly consult. Who he could trust.
There was a tiny whoosh of air behind him, and he stiffened, understanding he was no longer alone. He waited.
“Hello, T’Willow,” said a boy’s light voice.
And then Saille knew, even without turning around. Why he’d come here. Why this person had come when he had questionsabout the past and the future. The Lord and Lady had directedhim, directed them both.
“Greetyou GreatLord T’Vine,” he said to the prophet, a boy of eleven or twelve.
“Call me Vinni.”
He turned slowly, and when he met the boy’s gray eyes, a blinding flash erupted in his mind—his Flair recognizing the power in the child, knowing that the boy would never be one of his clients. He already knew his HeartMate.
“You have great Flair,” said Vinni, appearing smaller and less formidable when Saille blinked. The boy’s smile was crooked. “And we’re connected somehow, a past life perhaps.” He tilted his head. “My son will marry your daughter.”
For a moment Saille couldn’t speak. He processed the words. “You’re a lot younger than I am. And despite everything it is still usual for a man to be older than his wife. Sometimes much older.” He wondered if what the boy said was a fixed, true future and what it meant for him and Dufleur. Did it mean that he lost her and waited a long time before taking a wife instead of a HeartMate? Fear clutched his throat.
Vinni joined him and turned to look at the ocean, the white-cappedwaves whipped up by the wind. Saille muttered a word to increase the warmth of his clothing. He’d never been good at weathershield spells and felt that lack as cold was raw on his face. He cleared his throat. “What do you know of time?”
“I try not to think about the aspects of time. It makes my head hurt.” The boy glanced up at him, eyes green-brown. Saille had heard about the boy’s changeable eyes and it was as disconcertingas talk said.
“Hazel,” Saille said, and a tremor of Flair pulsed through him.
"My HeartMate is Avellana Hazel, you’re right. Should she live to bond with me, which is undetermined.” Now he appearedfar too old for his years. “Her survival is precarious, especiallyduring her Passages.” He brooded, then glanced at Saille. “We have already deflected one threat from her. Your HeartGift played a part in that, so I owe you.”
Saille narrowed his eyes. “How?”
The boy kicked a rock hard, sending it sailing over the cliff and into the sea. He didn’t look at Saille directly. “One of Avellana’s futures was to die the youngest victim of a black magic cult.”
Breath whooshed from Saille, he had to force words from a tight throat. “Instead, because of my HeartGift’s effect on Dufleur, she fit their profile better, and they took her.”
Vinni turned his back on the sea and started back to the main Residence. “That’s right. I’m sorry.” That sounded oddly muffled.
Despite his twisting gut, Saille put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Vinni turned his head away.
Words came from somewhere deep inside Saille. “You can’t hold yourself responsible for every outcome that you see. I’m sure there were . . . several. Avellana’s how old?”
“Five.” Vinni sniffed wetly.
Saille stopped in his tracks. He thought of the horror Dufleur had experienced, something he’d wished he could have banished from her life, taken on himself. Then he thought of a young, Flaired, girl child in murderous hands. More words tore from
him. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for being glad it was Dufleur instead of Avellana or Trif Winterberry instead of Avellana.” He sucked in a breath. “Anyone would prefer that an adult who could attempt to fight back or did fight back be in that situation instead of a helpless child. Anyone.”
Clearing his throat, Vinni looked up at Saille with clear green eyes. “Avellana’s not exactly helpless, but she doesn’t know her Flair or the strength of it.”
“She’s a baby.”
Vinni snorted. “Only because you’re so old.”
“Twenty-eight is not old.”
“Not compared to your ancient MotherDam.” Vinni paused. “And that’s whom you’re always compared to. By yourself as well as others, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer but went on in a musing tone, “I guess everyone who knew my ancestress, my predecessor, will compare me to her. She was a good woman and an excellent seer, but I’m not like her.”
Those simple words sent a jolt through Saille. His MotherDamwas a selfish woman and a wretched matchmaker in her last years, but he was nothing like her. He could definitely lead the Family in a different direction.
“Why are you here, Vinni?”
“You don’t want a formal consultation, say, to learn if your MotherDam will be revived in your lifetime?”
Another blow. The boy certainly knew Saille’s weak points. Saille thought he might know everyone’s weak spots. No wondermost people avoided him.
“Pointing out my deepest concerns is not endearing to me,” Saille said drily. “If you don’t want to be avoided, take my adviceand don’t prod people’s tender areas.”
Vinni scowled. “You think that’s why some folks evade me?”
“One factor.”
“Oh.” He chewed on his lip. “Um. I’ll think about that.”
A trickle of relieved sweat slipped down Saille’s spine. He’d sent Vinni’s attention away from himself and any prophetic visions.Perhaps he was like most people who thought if they didn’t hear an accurate prediction of their future, they’d be able to change the event. Which brought him back to time. But he repeatedhis question. “Why are you here, Vinni?”
“I dunno.” Vinni shifted his shoulders. “I just felt that I should come. And you’re a new GreatLord, and I hadn’t met you yet, and there’s all that stuff about alliances, too.”
Saille stared at him, knowing the boy was the strongest Flaired person of his generation. Obviously his Flair gave him great insights, but he was still a boy with limited understanding. They’d reached the outbuilding closest to the Residence, which Saille had had remodeled into a studio with his potting wheel and a kiln.
“Come in,” he said abruptly, placing his hand on the palm-plateand reciting the couplet that would drop the security spellshield. “You can have your choice of my work. I have two creative gifts: pottery and perfumery. I’ve been concentrating on pottery lately.”
Vinni gazed at him.
“Why?”
Shrugging, Saille said, “Because of that link between us. BecauseI think I like you. Because I want you to consider an alliancebetween our Families.” He frowned a moment, not remembering. “Did you send me a gift upon my ascension to the T’Willow title? I can’t recall.”
“I don’t know, either. My Family, like yours, is mostly women. They would have sent something appropriate, but not personal.” Vinni had entered first and was looking at the range of items on the shelves. Made from various clays, there was everything from a wide and shallow scrybowl of earthenware to a small, nearly translucent cup of porcelain. In this one area, his mother had supported him, ensuring whatever he needed for his creative Flair was sent to him. Saille didn’t know what that had cost her with her mother, the old D’Willow, but knew that there would have been a price.
“We aren’t our predecessors,” Vinni said softly.
Saille might have thought that he was speaking idly since he had lifted a set of deep purple glazed runes incised with gold, tools for both of them, or personal divination for both of them, but the remark once again resonated against his spine.
“No, we aren’t,” Saille said and thought it another similarity between them that they were both following a very strong femaleHead of the household.
“I like these,” Vinni said, clicking several of the fired pieces between his fingers.
“They’re yours.”
“Thank you.” He looked at the worktable with interest, walked to the potter’s wheel and stared at it, glanced toward the door to the small building that housed the kiln. “Interesting Flair you have here, T’Willow.” He grinned. “Have you consideredexhibiting your work in the Enlli Gallery? It would make a nice contrast with Dufleur Thyme’s embroidery.”
Saille just closed his eyes a moment. The boy knew his HeartMate was Dufleur. Ilex Winterberry knew, so his HeartMate,Trif of the Clovers, probably knew. SupremeJudge Ailim Elder knew and had no doubt told her husband. At this rate, soon all of Druida would know, and pressure would be applied to Dufleur to wed with him. He preferred to do his own wooing, finesse his own bride.
It was on the tip of Saille’s tongue to ask Vinni how soon he’d be successful in his suit, but Saille kept his mouth shut. He wanted this courtship to be right. That he win his lady honor-ablyand with no cheating. He was not his MotherDam.
“Take the runes, Vinni.” Saille handed him a pale green velvetbag to store the pieces in.
The boy gave him a cheeky grin and tumbled the runes into the pouch, his fingers lingering on one or two. Vinni’s obvious pleasure in the gift made Saille smile in satisfaction.
“So, why did you want to see me, GreatLord T’Willow?”
Twenty
I was thinking of time,” Saille said.
"I’d imagine you’d often be thinking of Thyme.”
Saille frowned in admonishment. “The nature of time.”
Vinni sobered, tilted his head, then shook it. “I don’t know the nature of time. I don’t manipulate it. I simply see visions. Futures. Options. Paths.” His brows dipped. “Yours grows darker ahead. In every instance.”
Saille’s mouth dried. He cleared his throat. “I don’t think I needed to know that.”
“I think it’s best to be prepared, not to be ignorant.”
They were never going to agree on this, Saille thought. Vinni might never agree with anyone on this. He recalled being on that plain that was Dufleur’s Flair construct, how she stared as if seeing what he couldn’t. “Do you see the past as well as the future?”
Vinni’s eyes—still green—widened. And Saille felt satisfactionat surprising the young GreatLord. “No. Only the future. Though I know that Trif Winterberry can see past events, call them up. But I think she is like me and the other prophets and oracles of Celta. Our Flair sends us visions, we do not see through the past or future or manipulate time. You think Dufleur Thyme can sense time?”
He wasn’t about to imperil Dufleur in any way, leave her open to any slur, any injury. “I don’t know.”
Vinni’s eyes changed, took on a silver sheen. “Isn’t that odd,” he whispered. “When I look at you, I can see some of your paths. When I use your link with her to look at her, everythingis fluid, like she is always in motion.” He stepped back, bumped into the worktable, sent Saille a shaky smile. “I’m not as skilled as I thought.”
“Always good to understand our limitations.” Saille’s voice came out rougher than he’d anticipated.
The boy nodded. “Yes.” Then he grimaced. “But I don’t like it.”
“No one does.”
“I think I should go. Take care, T’Willow.” Vinni squinted. “I saw . . . traps.”
“Traps?” Saille said sharply.
“And shadows on your path.” He hesitated. “And turning back.”
“Turning back?”
Vinni shrugged. “Turning back, or over and over. I don’t know what it means. But take care.” He made an elegant bow and ’ported away, taking the set of runes Saille had specifically made for h
im. Over the years he’d made runes for every FirstFamily.Vinni was the first to accept them.
Scratching came at the door, then a yowl, reminding Saille that he hadn’t made a Famdoor for Myx yet in here. He’d definitelykeep the kiln off-limits to his Fam. He went over and opened the door to Myx.
Greetyou. It was more growl than polite salutation. But Saille noticed snowflakes melting in the cat’s fur. Going to the window, he saw clouds had swept in while he and Vinni had been talking.
“Do you need a towel to rub you dry?” The building had a waterfallroom, hot-square and several food no-times, a small apartmentif he wanted to stay there.
No towel. Myx’s back rippled, then he sat down and groomed his whiskers. He glanced at Saille and started a loud, rusty purr. Sensed you upset and needed Me.
Saille squatted by him and stroked him gently. Both Vinni and Myx had felt he wanted them. Saille wondered what sort of aura or Flair signals he was emitting. Then wondered why Dufleur hadn’t perceived the same. But knew the answer to that question immediately. She’d narrowed the link between them, not breaking it, but not completely acknowledging it, acknowledging him as her HeartMate, either.
She hadn’t accepted the HeartBond during their lovemaking.In fact, he was sure that was another thing she hadn’t perceived.Every time they’d joined, bodies, emotions, minds, he’d thrown her the golden HeartBond. It had simply bounced off what he sensed was an impenetrable shield around her heart.
That had hurt, a dull, aching agony that hadn’t fully diminished.Was anything so painful as being rejected by a HeartMate,a person made to complement you? Saille didn’t think so. And experiencing this hurt would make him better at his work, he was sure, but he’d just as soon as not endure it.
Dufleur hadn’t even noticed the HeartBond. Probably didn’t even know anything about HeartBonds, how they were formed, when they were formed.
Only that she didn’t want one.
She didn’t seem to want anyone to be close to her in her life.
Heart Dance Page 20
