Hearts and Stones (Celta HeartMate)

by Robin D. Owens

  Forbidden.

  He virtuously turned his back on the pair—good riddance!—and continued down the path. A path animals and Fams used, not humans.

  Reaching his patch of herb, he had time to inspect it, knead it all over so nice scent coated his pads and paws and under his claws, and got rid of some grit. Then had a short wallow, before turtles caught up with him.

  The shelled beings still burbled cheerfully, but this time only in turtle body language and turtle-mind-speak that sounded like a slow rising and falling hum in his head. Ignorable.

  Easier to tune out than the whoosh in and out of the big water, just lurking beyond the last dune. He dreaded seeing that, growled under his breath, and kept pace with the turtles as they went slowly up the incline.

  As they topped the last dune, he didn’t see Mother Turtle.

  Bad smell worse up here, probably horrible on the beach. Zanth trotted down, putting his black and white paws in dents in the sand. A meter before the beach, the land fell abruptly, cut as if a storm had come through. He leapt easily down.

  The turtles, of course, squealed as they slid down the sand, tipped onto the beach and fell okay on their bellies.

  He turned toward the smell … something he’d have to take care of since it wafted over his territory …and stopped.

  There, gnawing on a mangled part of a pelican more than a day old, stood a scrawny male wolf. He stared at Zanth with cold yellow eyes and Zanth glared back. He could tell this wolf wasn’t smart enough to be a Familiar Companion animal. Almost, but not quite. That made Zanth superior in all ways. He swaggered forward. A strong Fam could always make a regular animal back down.

  The wolf growled in a low threatening tone. Zanth noted one of his hind legs looked recently crippled and dribbled blood. Too bad.

  Zanth showed his teeth and hissed. In his head he showed the range of his territory, sent warning that the wolf intruded. That Zanth would not tolerate the gaunt thing here, on Zanth’s land.

  Rumbling came deeper from the wolf’s throat.

  Zanth sent a clearer picture of boundaries, added words that would cue the wolf of Zanth’s superior status. Not to mess with him. Take rotten meat and go. Away. Off My land.

  Instead wolf tensed, like he would actually defy Zanth.

  And another growl came from a burrow in the steep cut of the land. Another wolf.

  Zanth stiffened, alarmed. Fighting two of them could be tough.

  When they’d left the big house, Danith had been taking care of a local sick dog who’d eaten something bad and was puking his guts out. Still, she or FamMan T’Ash would hear if Zanth called for help, but he wouldn’t.

  He couldn’t back down. Turtles returning to the sea would know he’d not defended his own land, would tell everyone far and wide.

  Threat came mentally from the male wolf before him. Dark intimidation and challenge.

  Then a breeze stirred the air and Zanth smelled that the wolf in the burrow had whelped not long ago, and a pup was with her. Big wolves would protect pup to the death—Zanth’s or their own.

  Uh-oh.

  Zanth stepped back, bumped into turtles. They were about as long as the wolf and much wider. Wolves’ thoughts sounded like they found turtles too hard to kill and eat.

  But turtles didn’t seem to sense that. They squeaked and moved toward the fast encroaching water.

  Come with us, Zanth! We will protect you! the first said.

  Yes! the second turtle chimed in. Water GOOD!

  No! Zanth spit out, looking at them, but keeping a wary side glance on the male wolf. Zanth let his body ease, friendly. Best to get through this problem without a fight that would damage everyone but the turtles.

  We talk, he sent in words. Showed image of wolf relaxing, too. Of everyone respecting each other.

  The male displayed his fangs. Bigger than Zanth’s own.

  Making sure he remained just outside claw reach, Zanth pressed his paw into the moist sand, leaving a good print. Then with his mind he colored the print pink. The symbol for Zanth’s FamWoman, the Animal Healer that all smart Celtan animals should know.

  The wolf sucked in quick breath, lowered his head a little, gaze fixed on Zanth. He thought of Danith, gave the vision to the wolves, and the large house at the end of the path.

  YOU GO. GO TO HOUSE WHERE HEALER IS! he projected to the male wolf, making sure his feeling of helpfulness would echo through the wolf’s mate bond, as well as reaching the female directly.

  In the lair, the female rumbled in a questioning manner. The he wolf growled, abandoned the piece of dead bird, retreated close to the opening of the den. Did body talk—tail and ears and fur—and probably private picture talk to mate.

  Female stuck her head and neck out, appearing as skinny as the male. Stared at Zanth, met his eyes. He sent her his knowledge of Danith D’Ash. How she loved animals, all animals, not just Fams. How she would want to help the small Family.

  Would coo over the pup. Would Heal the male’s leg, for sure. Would feed them all good food.

  ??? A swarm of questions, requests for confirmation of Zanth’s info, came from both wolves, loud enough to rouse the dozing pup to yip once.

  YES! screamed one of the turtles, as if mentally speaking louder would make the wolves understand better. DANITH D’ASH IS WONDERFUL! Her image of Danith seemed odd, using muddy tints instead of pink.

  YES, YES, YES, said the second turtle, repeating what her sister said, as usual. But this turtle’s images and feelings were clearer than her words. She sent memories of deep comfort from Danith, feeling of love cycling between turtle and woman. Turtle’s adoration of Danith.

  And how the woman helped the turtles, then let them go free. No cages or pens.

  GO UP PATH TO BIG HOUSE WHERE HEALER DANITH IS! confirmed Zanth. Follow housefluff pawprints and scent. He thought of the housefluffs, fur sleek over plump bodies.

  The male wolf’s eyes widened, a small string of drool fell from his open mouth. Zanth felt the female perk up at the image of fat housefluffs.

  Oops.

  As Zanth checked mentally on the fluffs, found them safe inside the house, the wolves rushed by him. The male jostled Zanth, forcing him away from their den and the path. The female trotted first, carrying the pup in her mouth, but stayed within the sight of the male behind her.

  Zanth hopped back, found himself dewclaw deep in water! He opened his mouth to hiss, then one of the turtles bumped him, slid under him and he danced for balance until she lifted him up on her back.

  I’ll save you, Zanth! Take you safe to sandbar in water where big nasty dog-things won’t come! Meet Mama, THERE!

  Me, too!

  NO! Zanth shouted, but the turtle’s head dipped below water … that slid all around his paws, sometimes covering them!

  Already in deep, deep, water. Take Me back!

  She ignored him.

  He stuck his claws in the turtle’s leathery skin and she didn’t flinch too much. Not as much as Zanth shuddered.

  A moment later, the turtle slipped onto a narrow sandbar surrounded by water. Zanth hopped off the turtle’s shell onto the spit of land, barely above lapping water. The second turtle arrived, and splashed him even more, droplets on his white fur and his black fur!

  He let all the Cat curses he had roll out of him in spitting fury. And the cowardly turtles deserted him!

  We be back when you happier, Zanth! We going to send sounds to Mama for her to come. They travel better in water, said the smarter one.

  Yes! said the sister.

  Zanth wasn’t stupid enough to have a hissy fit and thrash around on the sand. But it took some stalking up and down the very slim piece of land before his anger decreased. He eyed the mainland beach, many Zanth-cat-lengths away. Didn’t see hide nor tail hair of the wolves. Stretching his senses, he felt Gwydion, also an Animal Healer, open the sick animal door to the wolves. Good enough.

  He’d saved them, too. Was a hero, as usual.

  But stuck on
this damn piece of land in the middle of the great water.

  What was he going to do?

  To call FamMan or FamWoman or some other Fam to rescue him would be to lose great face. The turtles didn’t think about status like other Fams, didn’t realize the position they’d forced him into.

  One of them simply had to take him back. He’d insist. Then he’d say he’d done all this on purpose to show how strong and brave he was. By the time he’d told the story often, he would believe it to be true himself. So he paced until he could send cool, smart words to turtles.

  Come on back, now! he called, not putting command in his tone, because turtles responded to coaxing better. Now that he stared out at the bigness of the huge water with no land, he could sense where they swam, nearly see their underwater wakes.

  Mama can hear! We will wait for her with Zanth like we told Danith we would! The first turtle started back.

  Last week, when old mother Turtle, Swift-in-the-Sea, talked to Zanth in his mind to bring her daughters to the ocean, she’d told him she didn’t want to meet any humans. She distrusted them.

  Zanth believed her too wary, but maybe she didn’t have good judgment as to which humans were good or bad, not being as smart as Zanth.

  The sister turtles returned to the sandbar and stared at Zanth.

  You happier now? I am happy! Mama comes.

  I am happy, too. Excited and waiting for Mama, the second turtle said.

  Didn’t sound as if either of them would take him back right now. Zanth muttered under his breath and grumbled in his head but didn’t say nothing to turtles.

  A few minutes later, he sensed a powerful presence approaching. Zanth saw Mother Turtle zoom through the water, reach the damp sand part of the sandbar. Then she came, slow flipper-step by slow flipper-step out of the ocean and onto land, an old and massive being.

  Greetyou, FamCat, she said. Zanth wondered if she remembered his name.

  She saw her daughters, heard their mental joyful squeals and relief radiated from her. Good. Good. You two survived.

  Sand spit as the three met on the beach. Good, Mother repeated. We lost two. So I have eight daughters from this most successful clutch.

  Because Me hero, Zanth reminded her. After all, he’d saved them all!

  She seemed to ignore his words and spoke again to her daughters, Though we are a family of Healers, neither your sisters nor I could reach in time the two who perished. A long breath out. Snapped up by a shark.

  The image of a terrible fish and it eating small turtles smacked Zanth. He jumped back with a hiss. No, not a squeal of terror, a hiss. He did it again, just to emphasize that it was a hiss.

  Mother Turtle sniffed her daughters, told them to stay as she moved ponderously all around them. Went to smack one with a strong flipper and the blow barely connected. She lifted her head and stared at Zanth. What is this?

  Spell personal armor. Protects young. It had cost a fortune ... or at least a few Fam animal companion placements in the Yew and Blackthorn Families. Wears off gradually—

  I understand that, Mother Swift-In-The-Sea said.

  —so young learn from fatal mistakes instead of being stupid and dead, he finished. Both turtles would have died a dozen times over if they hadn’t had such armor.

  Mother Turtle huffed. Well, they were not with their mother, but a human woman who’d never raised turtles. Never wanted to meet her before, dealing with a cat like you is bad enough.

  We loovvee Danith! the littler ones chorused. She is an excellent Healer of not only turtles but all Fams. And animals, too!

  Hmmm, Mother said. I sense your Flair, daughters, and that the human woman Healer sparked it. Perhaps you will follow me as Great Healers. This is good.

  One last stare at Zanth, and she said, I will take my daughters to their brethren and we shall see how well they Heal others. What they might have learned from this Animal Healer Danith D’Ash. If they impress me, I will contact you again to meet with her and perhaps share knowledge.

  Zanth grunted, he himself unimpressed by her. Mostly.

  Follow me, she instructed her daughters, and began to turn back toward the vastness of the waves.

  Wait! Zanth yelled. Take Me back to the mainland beach!

  Before he could blink, she flicked her flipper and used Flair, mind-magic, to move him to her back. He scrabbled and clawed at her neck and she took off straight into the water! Her daughters followed.

  He did not like this. No, not at all. In fact, he HATED riding through the water, wavelets breaking over his paws. How dare the turtles, all the turtles, subject him to such indignities. To water. To moving water. To moving through water.

  At least she lived up to her name. She swam swiftly. No more than ten or so Zanth-lengths from the beach Zanth began to breathe easier.

  Until Mother Turtle said, You fear the sea. You should learn it better and you will fear less.

  Then she rolled in the water and Zanth had to release his claws or drown!

  She sped away.

  He tumbled over and under and salt water in mouth and rubbing fur raw against sharp ground and getting grit stuck between his pads … He surfaced and saw the beach a meter away and he swam. Then his paws hit wonderful, fabulous land. And he rushed against the surf onto the beach, panting. His pads would have sweat with the effort if they hadn’t already been wet. Or maybe the salt sweat mixed with the salt water, along with traces of blood from the sharp stones. Leaving part of him in the wide ocean. As a big piece of ocean stone stuck in his paw between pad and toes.

  His claws dug in the mud, the wet sand, found more purchase. He scratched at the land, rushed from the water. Stood slick and shaking and far too wet for a small minute.

  Ignoring the stone that cut, he ran fast, fast, fast along the path that would only coat his paws with sand and dirt and not the whole rest of him like water did. Coated all of him when he’d been thrust into the ocean.

  At the top of the dune he stopped, his sides going in and out fast with harsh breaths. Far enough away. The big water never came here except, he heard, during special storms. Now the sun shone and the water glittered and rumbled just like usual.

  He’d survived. And he’d learned as Mother Turtle said.

  He could swim.

  He didn’t like it, would never like it, but he could.

  And if the water took him again ... at least here on his beach, he could survive. He knew the water now, and the land under it, long and shallow enough for him to wrench himself away and reach safety.

  If he fought hard.

  He always did.

  He lifted his foot, stared at the wedged stone, a big piece of sharp shell. Then he sank on his haunches to worry it out with tooth and paw and after long minutes and some more blood, he plucked it out. Like other irritants out of his life, the turtles, the wolves.

  All would know he was a hero.

  Light flickered over the shell-piece in a pretty way. He could keep it, take it to Danith as a present, or to his FamMan T’Ash to make into a jewel and sell.

  His shivering stopped and he squinted at the big water. He’d survived all the ocean had thrown at him.

  Looking down at his bedraggled self, he saw he’d lost several whiskers. His nice round head would look lopsided!

  Maybe FamMan and FamWoman wouldn’t notice.

  He touched a white forepaw to his black ears. Both earrings in. Good!

  Still, he should indulge in a long grooming session before he returned home. Wanted no comments.

  He sniffed, the scent of that herb patch he liked to nap in and dream and occasionally munch caught in his nostrils. And he calmed as he nuzzled it, sniffed deeply and appreciated the smell of good dirt and living green things growing out of the ground. Kneading the herbs until they released even more nice smell, he lay down on the thick, soft leaves. He’d snooze a bit, then groom, get the rest of ocean sand out of his claws.

  The sun already warmed his fur. He liked sun and land better than ocean. Bu
t he respected big water, didn’t fear it as much, though he knew it could kill him easily, thoughtlessly. But hadn’t today.

  Life was good.

  * * *

  Thank you for spending time with me on Celta.

  * * *

  During the years I’ve been writing the Celta HeartMate series, I’ve kept track of much, particularly the characters, but also forgot much. For these stories I needed help from readers who follow me on my Facebook page and they will be acknowledged before each story when they helped me out. MY READERS ARE AWESOME! MANY THANKS TO ALL OF YOU!

  * * *

  Bright Blessings. Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again.

  Celta HeartMate Series in Reading Order

  Please note that these books and stories are primarily romances. They are not appropriate for children.

  **means this is a STORY

  FOR BUYING LINKS, PLEASE SEE:

  ALSO BY ROBIN D. OWENS

  **Passage Through Stone (in Hearts and Stones)

  **Heart and Sword (in Hearts and Swords)

  **Peaches Arrives on Celta (in Celta Cats)

  **Zanth Gets His Boy (in Celta Cats)

  **Homing Stone (in Hearts and Stones)

  HEARTMATE

  HEART THIEF

  HEART DUEL

  **Fractured Stone (in Hearts and Stones)

  HEART CHOICE

  **Pinky Becomes a Fam (in Celta Cats)

  HEART QUEST

  HEART DANCE

  **Heart Story (in Hearts and Swords)

  HEART FATE

  **Heart and Soul (in Hearts and

  Swords)

  HEART CHANGE

  **Zanth Claims Treasure (in Celta Cats)

  HEART JOURNEY

  SCRIPT OF THE HEART

  **Noble Heart (in Hearts and Swords)

  **Hidden Stone (in Hearts and Stones)

  HEART SEARCH

  HEART SECRET

  HEART FORTUNE

  LOST HEART (Novella)

  HEART FIRE

  **Baccat Chooses His Person (in Celta Cats)