Heart Quest

by Robin D. Owens

  The little cat preened and mewed in agreement. She hopped off Danith’s lap onto Zanth, who grunted, but kept his eyes closed. Then Greyku trotted over to Trif. Sitting at her feet, the kitten gazed up at her, exuding innocence. Just the same look Trif had tried before. The kitten was better at it than she.

  Greyku revved up her purr, and Trif lifted her into her lap, stroking the softest fur she’d ever felt. A mind-to-mind connection formed between Trif and Greyku—inherently stabilizing Trif ’s Flair.

  “I knew Greyku was right for you.” Danith looked smug.

  Tenderness bloomed inside Trif. Greyku was a Clover name. The kitten was proud to be Trif ’s.

  Danith was watching her closely, so Trif tried a smile. Greyku’s purr rumbled louder.

  Zanth’s tail twitched. He didn’t open his eyes, but mentally sent, Trif makes pretty music.

  Chuckling, Danith said, “That she does. Would you play something for us, Trif? I think it would soothe us all.”

  “I only have my tin whistle, not my flute,” she said as she pulled a small pipe from the large bag she carried that could hold her biggest instrument case. She wet her lips, and began to play. She let her feelings spill into the music, spoke of longing, of yearning for love. As that tune wound around, then faded when her spirits began to lift just from the act of playing, another twiddle came into her head and she began a lively dance. Greyku jumped from her lap and zoomed over to pounce on her sire. Zanth grunted, and they began a mock battle. Zanth growled fiercely and Greyku went for his tattered ears. Danith laughed, and it was contagious, taking Trif ’s breath. She stopped on a high note. The cats continued to tumble.

  “Oh, that was wonderful, Trif.” Danith beamed, then her expression turned considering. “Have you thought of studying with the composer D’Holly?”

  Choking at the idea of imposing on the musical genius of their time, Trif hastily drew her tin whistle from her lips. “Me? No!”

  “Your tunes are wonderful.”

  Packing the whistle back in her bag, Trif said, “Thank you, but my music is—ephemeral, of the moment. It should be made and appreciated in the moment, not saved. It’s enough to play and to feel.”

  “Hmm,” Danith said. At that moment, a door slammed open.

  T’Ash comes, Zanth said, then swatted Greyku so she rolled from him, and the tom stalked to the door and through the cat exit.

  Danith’s face had lit, love glowing in her eyes.

  “You were going to send us home in your glider?” prompted Trif, scooping up her cat.

  “Yes. It’s at the door.”

  Heavy footsteps accompanied by Zanth-murmurings passed their door. Danith glanced toward Trif.

  She waved a hand. “We’ll see ourselves out.”

  Smiling, Danith said, “Thank you for taking Greyku.”

  “You’re welcome.” Trif grinned. Getting a Fam was the best thing that happened to her in a long while. “But I should be thanking you. So I’ll do it—a three-thanks to draw blessings to you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

  In his office that afternoon, Ilex stared down at his poppets in frustration. They were small peoplelike figures made of soft commoncloth cotton about seven centimeters tall. Two were dressed in little trous, like men, and one in a tunic trous suit like a woman. They all had a tiny bit of golden thread belted around their middles—showing Nobility. And that was all the slight knowledge he had about the three who had dumped Gib Ginger’s body. He didn’t know who had killed and who had been accessories to the deed.

  He was strong in poppet magic, but there were few crimes where the perpetrator was unknown and he didn’t use that Flair much. The more information he had, the more he could form the poppet like the criminals, and the more the poppet would reflect a real person and act as a magnet to draw guards to that person. If a poppet was strong enough and a guard carried it, the doll could even indicate where the person had been, and then tracking was easier.

  Of course, that was when the premiere tracker, the First Family GreatLord Straif T’Blackthorn, was out of town. As he was now.

  But since Ilex’s data was slight, so were the poppets’ properties, and they were nearly useless.

  Still, he had something to build on.

  Tinne Holly had been as good as his word, and had arrived at Hazel Quadrant Guardhouse for a Flair scan and Truth Sensing. He cleared the tests for violence easily, and continued to show interest in what was going on. Ilex had no doubt that Tinne’s father, the powerful T’Holly, would grace the guardhouse within a day or two. From Chief Sawyr’s irritated manner, Winterberry deduced that his superior understood that too.

  Unable to pursue the investigation further, Ilex returned home to find the grandfather clock in MidClass Lodge lobby chiming Mid-Evening Bell, and he thought of Trif ’s invitation.

  He strode through the hallways and took the stairs down to the caffhouse in the basement, which was small, cozy, and filled with his neighbors winding down the weekend. The glass front showed Trif sitting at a small round table, vivid in a simple dark red dress. A couple of people stood talking to her. Then she caught sight of him, smiled, and waved. The others moved on, nodding to him as he entered and they left.

  He stepped into the room, and all the other scents diminished until he smelled only her fragrance. The sound of discussions around him faded and he heard her slow, steady breathing. Felt the cheerful aura of her in the air.

  Folly. Worse, his doom, hers. Too late to retreat.

  Ilex saw the tiny kitten sitting atop the round glass table and froze. His pulse thudded loudly in his ears. The kitten looked like a Fam. He tore his gaze away from it to Trif. Her expression was dreamy and she petted the little cat with a lovely hand.

  Then the cat stared at him from sharp, blue eyes. I am Greyku.

  His stomach knotted. His HeartMate had a Fam. His beautiful Trif of the volatile Flair had just become a target for murder.

  He didn’t know how he managed a calm manner or an easy smile when all he saw in his mind’s eye was the heartless body of Gib Ginger.

  “Greetyou, GentleLady Clover,” he said, and seated himself.

  She glanced up and smiled. Greetyou.” Her brows dipped. “We’re neighbors. I can’t keep calling you Winterberry, though I haven’t ever heard you called anything else.”

  “Call me Ilex, please.” He ran an index finger down the tiny head of the kitten. “Greetyou, Greyku.”

  Greetyou.

  “How lucky you are to have a Fam,” he said.

  “Yes, I hadn’t anticipated having one for a long time, but D’Ash gave Greyku to me today.” Her brows lowered. “Though Danith D’Ash was too subtle to say anything, I think that Greyku was meant as a bribe to…” She stopped.

  “We can talk about your quest shortly. Have you eaten?”

  Yes, said Greyku.

  Trif chuckled. “Yes.”

  “Would you like a drink?”

  Nodding, Trif said, “I wanted to hold a table. It’s busy tonight and I didn’t know how the counterman would react to Greyku if I took her up there.”

  “I’ll get a caff,” he said. He wanted whiskey.

  “I’ll have a cinnamoncaff.”

  I’ll have a bowl of fluffcream, said Greyku.

  “I’ll get you a small saucer, Fam. You aren’t large enough to eat a bowl of fluffcream.” With a finger that seemed too rough and clumsy, he stroked her head. The kitten purred.

  Ilex nodded and went to the counter, where he ordered the drinks and waited while they were being made. He unfocused his eyes and stretched his senses, sifting through emotions. Some people felt mild irritation due to personal problems, but there was no violence. In fact, the strongest emotion was pure fascination as the patrons darted glances at Greyku.

  He paid for the drinks and returned to the table. The saucer had a small dollop of fluffcream. Greyku looked at it and wrinkled her nose. More!

  “It’s enough,” Ilex said.

  She eyed him, but stalk
ed over to the saucer and began to lick daintily at the treat.

  Ilex kept his gaze from the sweet cream on Trif ’s lips as she played with her foaming drink. He burnt his mouth on his strong, black caff.

  Trif shot him a serious gaze from under her thick lashes. “So, are you going to lecture me?”

  Ilex winced inwardly. That’s what she thought of him—an older, neighbor guardsman, ready to lecture. “Why do you attempt this quest?”

  She tilted her head. “I know I have a HeartMate and I want him.” Her hand dipped into a pocket and pulled out an intricate key.

  Everything in Ilex tensed at the sight of the key. It was a pretty gold key with loops and colored crystal jewels—and hearts. Fanciful and exuberant like Trif.

  At least the object didn’t have the powerful lusty Flair of a HeartGift. Just his luck that Trif wanted to find her mate, knew enough and had Flair enough to make the key to hunt him.

  She wouldn’t make a HeartGift until her Third Passage at twenty-seven, seven years from now.

  He was sure from his vision that he’d be dead by then. He probably had a couple of years left—and the most he could allow himself was to see her. Though HeartMate attraction and love being what they were, she might develop feelings for him if she ever saw him as a man instead of an authority figure.

  Ilex was more concerned with not giving himself away and not making a fool of himself. He’d move out of MidClass Lodge, or arrange that she return to her large and loving Family at the Clover Compound as soon as this danger to her was gone.

  Right now he wanted to keep an eye on her.

  Her head tilted, she was studying him. He’d been wrapped in his thoughts too long. He nodded to the key. “Nice bit of work.” His voice was harsher than he expected.

  She flushed a little, her chin lifted. “More often than not my Flair is under control.” She fiddled with the key, dropped it back into her pursenal. “I want to find my HeartMate,” she repeated. “I’m tired of being alone.”

  Ilex went motionless as anger rose. She was tired of being alone—Lady and Lord, he’d been solitary for years and now dared not claim her. Ruthlessly, he banished all emotion from his tones. “You’re very young.”

  She shrugged. “Clovers marry young. Several of my cuzes around my age are already wed. My HeartMate’s out there. I connected with him during my Second Passage. A lifetime of love. Why wait?”

  “So impatient,” he murmured.

  Laughing, Trif stirred her drink again. “Just assertive.”

  “But your Family and friends don’t agree with your—adventure?”

  “My quest. My HeartQuest. No, one approves. Not my family, nor my friend Lark Apple, nor my cuz, Mitchella D’Blackthorn. I tried to keep my—quest—quiet, but word spread.” She colored, then her face set in determined lines. “I won’t quit. The charmkey will work, why not use it?”

  “Because it could get you in trouble?”

  “Catshit.”

  “Cat shit?”

  Greyku lifted a cream-covered muzzle and growled.

  Trif grinned. “I started saying that when my friend Lark got her cat Familiar, Phyl. It irritated the kitten.” Again, a wistful expression crossed her face. “I miss Lark, all the way south in Gael City.” Trif shook her head, reached out, and petted Greyku.

  “Couldn’t you concentrate on bonding with your Fam instead of searching for your HeartMate?”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Of course not, but Greyku should keep you busy. Fams do.” Ilex leaned back, propping his elbow on the back of his chair. “Everyone wants Fams. But sentient animal companions are rare.”

  “Yes, but at least I got a cat instead of a dog. Cats aren’t so uncommon.”

  He thought of his Fam, and she must have caught the shadow of expression on his face—or a pulse of emotion in the tiny thread spinning between them. Her eyes narrowed, and she pounced, like a cat. “You have a Fam, don’t you?”

  Before he could answer, she said quickly, “That’s it!” She chuckled. “I knew you had a secret. But I’ve seen the shadow in the large inner courtyard at night. That’s why you wanted a room facing the courtyard when you moved in, right?” She leaned forward. “Is it a feral tomcat?”

  Heat crept up his neck. “A fox.”

  “A fox!”

  “Quiet. We aren’t the only residents here. I don’t want him trapped or harmed.” He smiled wryly. “And I doubt our landlord would understand.”

  “I know who’s here, nobody who’d care whether you had a fox Fam.” She glanced around. She’d greeted all the neighbors by name as they’d dropped by or as they left. Since she’d lived in MidClass Lodge longer than he and had a naturally curious bent, Ilex suspected she knew exactly who could be trusted with a secret. But he was uncomfortable that she’d sensed he was hiding something from her. What would she do when she finally figured out that his Fam was just one of Ilex’s secrets?

  “A fox Fam,” she whispered in awe. “Wild, and rarer than dogs.”

  “I’ve planted additional brush near my windows.” And had opened a small door in the outer wall of his apartment, in case Vertic wanted to spend time inside.

  She nodded. “I noticed. You didn’t strike me as a gardening type, but people are wonderfully complex. That’s what makes everyone so interesting.” She grinned.

  “About your quest.”

  Her smile flickered out.

  Steeling himself, he leaned forward to curl his hand around her wrist. Warm, soft woman-skin. He ignored the heat spreading through his veins, the escalating beat of his heart. “Your days of prowling Noble Country are over. ‘Adventure’ close to MidClass Lodge.”

  “I did the Lodge months ago.”

  He knew. He wouldn’t have moved in otherwise. “Do your questing on busy streets. Not isolated estates in Noble Country.”

  She snorted.

  Ilex squeezed her wrist, released it. “You must be careful and take care of yourself, or I’ll ensure your safety. I don’t think you’d appreciate my methods.”

  Expression darkening, she met his eyes. After a moment, she dropped her gaze. “I was wrong to trespass on Noble estates.” The tips of her ears turned pink.

  “It’s best all around if you limit your wanderings.”

  She stared at him. “You have more than one secret.”

  More than two.

  “What’s going on in the city? Like I said earlier, I feel a change in the…” She opened and closed her hands, grasping thin air. “Atmosphere.”

  “I can’t tell you.” He still didn’t know her character as well as he liked, didn’t know if she’d break a confidence. A Heart-Mate made for him shouldn’t be able to do that, but who knows? He hadn’t thought his fated woman would be so young. He’d paid little attention to HeartMates until that first staggering dream when she’d reached out to him.

  As they watched each other, he could feel his face take on the stony lines of his profession, knew she’d draw away from him.

  She leaned forward instead. Something inside him crumbled, and the word folly echoed in his mind and he knew he’d be foolish. He’d spend time with her.

  Her head tilted again as if she was listening inwardly. How much of a connection was building between them? How much could she sense it? Finally, she said, “Is whatever you’re working on why you want me to be careful on my quest?”

  “You make sure you’re safe.” He glanced at Greyku. “How loud can you screech, kitten?” From what he’d heard and seen, Fams always made themselves known.

  The little cat opened her mouth, showing pointed white teeth and a pink tongue. I can screech VERY loud. She lifted her nose.

  Ilex nodded. “Good.” Looking back at Trif, he said, “I won’t report you and I won’t curtail your activities if you keep in busy areas and always take Greyku with you.”

  “What if I want to do a couple of blocks of houses after my work at Clover Fine Furnishings and Greyku isn’t—”

  “Thos
e are my terms,” Ilex said. He’d like her to continue the search because it would distract her from him, from his work, would keep her busy. There were other ways—Flair ways—to protect her, and he’d arrange those too. He leaned back in his chair.

  She frowned. “Or else you’ll report me.”

  “That’s right.”

  Pulling her hand from his, she stood. “I’ll be careful.”

  He didn’t think she knew what the word careful meant. He kept his feet flat on the floor as she left. She only had to go through the corridor and up the stairs to the lobby, then to her small apartment. Sipping his caff, he used the small bond between them to sense her, and knew when she slammed the door to her rooms.

  Three

  Of course he dreamt of her. For the first time, he’d spent more than five minutes in his HeartMate’s company, and the meeting and emotions involved stirred his deep need for her.

  So she played in his dreams—they played love games together—in his bed and in hers, which he could only imagine. In his mainspace. His large hands stroked and molded her high breasts, his tongue circled pink nipples, suckled, and her sweet moans drove him to higher and higher levels of aching passion. He awoke, tight with arousal, on fire for her, then spent some long moments under a cold waterfall. When he looked in a mirror, his face was tight, strained, showing dark stubble. And old.

  If he’d been a precocious youngster, she could have been the age of his child’s child. He shuddered, and his eyes went black with disgust at himself. Compared to hers, his skin was rough and weathered, and old. Compared to hers, his ideas were unimaginative, and old.

  Compared to hers, his sexual experience was long and varied and…stodgy? Maybe not. Lady and Lord knew, his dreams of her, and more, the linked sexuality they’d shared, had been inventive and fresh, orgasms roaring through him like he’d never known.

  He still wanted her, despite everything. His hands fisted at his sides as he gazed at the tumbled coverings of his bedsponge. He wanted her there. Now. Forever.

  In the two years since they’d connected, he’d stopped having love affairs, even stopped having much sex—only when his body was desperate would he visit a friendly barmaid. Now that he’d spent some time with Trif, he couldn’t think of sex with anyone else. He rubbed his face. How was he going to survive? How was he going to follow an honorable road and keep his hands off her?