Heart Quest

by Robin D. Owens

  By concentrating on his job. Unfortunately, his current case was all too horrific. So it demanded his best. He would not allow himself to be distracted. Going to his desk, he pulled out the sensorball from the first murder to study it again.

  Trif awoke, unusually happy for a Mor morning after the weekend. She’d had wonderful, sweaty dreams of her Heart-Mate again last night. For the first time, she’d sensed emotions beyond the lust they’d shared—tenderness, perhaps even affection, or the edge of love.

  Also, she had a Fam of her own. The small white kitten was curled sleeping on the pillow beside her. Trif eyed Greyku. The little Fam was right; she’d be much more striking if she was tinted.

  Trif had dressed and eaten her own meal before Greyku strolled into the kitchen. Breakfast time.

  “Yes.” She turned to the no-time food storage and pulled out a bowl of warm furrabeast-and-greens mixture that D’Ash had advised. Trif now had ten recipes of kitten food, and had made up a week’s worth of meals and put them in the no-time, where they’d stay as fresh as when she’d cooked them. Placing the food on the floor, she watched Greyku take dainty bites.

  “You are the most beautiful kitten.”

  Yes. Greyku swiped a bit of meat from her muzzle and grinned up at Trif. And you are all Mine.

  That was one way of looking at it. Trif chuckled and tidied the apartment. It was small, but relatively expensive. Still, it was away from the Clover family Compound and she enjoyed living on her own. She wasn’t impatient for her father, uncles, sisters, and brothers to finish up the construction of her own house within the Compound. She had the idea that by the time her townhome was done, she’d be ready to be surrounded by family again, though with her new Fam, the floor plan might need a bit of altering. Again.

  They’d hate that, since she’d already changed the blueprint five times…and had wanted to change it five more, but if they’d built it as quickly as they’d promised, she’d have been living there for a year. Yes, Greyku would be an excellent excuse to revise the plans, incorporating all the other little touches that she’d thought of lately, but hadn’t had the nerve to ask for.

  She’d take Greyku to work with her to the family furniture business, and they’d eat dinner with the Clovers. As the only Fam, Greyku would be cooed over and spoilt by the rest of the family. Trif knew enough about FamCats to understand that the kitten would adore the attention and petting.

  What do We do now? asked Greyku.

  “I don’t work here. I work for Clover Fine Furnishings—in the business office.” She was trapped in the job, her Flair of past-visions led to no useful career. She’d been expected to take a place with the family firm and she had.

  Greyku stopped licking a forepaw to look at her with wide, curious blue eyes. Interesting.

  Trif grimaced. “Not really, but I’d like you to come with me.” She picked up a quilted basket that she’d previously thought Greyku would sleep in. “You can explore the offices and sleep near my desk when you tire.”

  Will there be play?

  Thinking of the other family members who worked in the office, most of them female, Trif said, “I see papyrus wads and string in your future.”

  Good. Do We ’port there?

  “Uh, no. We are middle-class people. I’m the one with the most Flair in the family.” She shifted. “There isn’t a teleport pad area set up.” She had no idea when she’d be able to master that particular set of skills. It sure would be convenient, though.

  Yet, Greyku said, between licks at her paw and swiping her head.

  “Yet,” Trif agreed. Who knew a kitten would be so amusing?

  I will survey the office to make sure it is Fam-friendly.

  “Ah.” Trif choked on a giggle. “Good idea.”

  The kitten sat up straight, lifted her chin. I am ready. Call the glider.

  Eyebrows raised, Trif smiled. “We are middle class. The business only has freight-gliders.”

  Greyku frowned. How do We get to work?

  Trif was pretty sure that Greyku would be doing no work. “We ride the public carrier.”

  Greyku’s eyes widened. Very interesting to watch people. They will admire Me.

  “I think you’ve been spending too much time with T’Blackthorn’s Fam.”

  I only say what’s true. You said I was beautiful.

  Laughing, Trif swooped down on Greyku and snatched her up, putting the kitten on her shoulder. The little cat dug in. “Ouch!”

  You will need shoulder pads.

  “I guess so.” She glanced at the wall timer. “We don’t want to miss the carrier.”

  Will We see Ilex and Vertic this morning?

  Trif ’s pulse jumped at Ilex’s name. She’d been irritated at him last night, but was feeling more charitable this morning. He wasn’t going to report that she’d been trespassing on Noble property. That hadn’t been a good idea anyway, just an impulse.

  She picked up the charmkey and turned it over in her hand. It hummed with Flair. Only her Flair, not her HeartMate’s, despite the dreams. But the emotions she’d experienced last night made her all the more determined to find him. Slipping the key into her pursenal, she slipped the pursenal on her belt and snicked it shut.

  I want to meet the FamFox. I am not sure what a fox looks like.

  “I don’t know whether we’ll see Ilex or his Fam this morning. I believe foxes are nocturnal.”

  So are feral cats.

  “You aren’t feral. If you want a good life with me, you’ll be a day cat.”

  Greyku sniffed.

  Trif left her rooms. At the far end of the hallway she saw Ilex, and hurried to catch up. He was dressed in his uniform—pristine brown shirt and creased, narrow-legged trous—and appeared grim and focused. Definitely a guardsman on a mission, and a dangerous man.

  “Ilex,” she called, and his shoulders seemed to hunch; then he stopped and turned, meeting her gaze. His eyes were more blue than gray this morning.

  He sighed at the sight of her. She looked radiant. Satisfied, and bubbling with energy and optimism—and Ilex knew he’d unconsciously lingered in his rooms just long enough so he’d meet her in the hall. He knew her morning schedule, had seen her catching the public carrier often enough.

  He blocked all the hot images of her in his bed, and nodded. “Greetyou, Trif and Greyku.”

  “Greetyou,” she said breathlessly as she closed the distance between them. “I wanted to apologize for being abrupt with you last night and to thank you for your restraint.”

  He hadn’t been restrained in their dreamtime loving. Heat crept up the back of his neck. She hadn’t wanted him to be. He cleared his throat. “You received Fam Greyku from D’Ash yesterday, and your cuz is GrandLady D’Blackthorn, which means that she is wealthy, and also close to the Ashes. I advise that if you want to continue your quest, you have T’Ash make you a protection amulet.”

  She frowned. “More conditions for your silence?”

  “I don’t want you hurt,” he said quietly, and he didn’t have the Flair to protect her.

  Her mouth twitched in a wry smile. “Thank you, but do you know how much an amulet from T’Ash would cost?”

  “How important is your quest to you?”

  That seemed to surprise her. She took a step back, glanced at her timer. “I have to hurry to make the next public carrier.”

  We cannot teleport yet, said Greyku. There is no pad at My new day place, and We have not linked to try to ’port. I can teleport well.

  He didn’t like that he’d drained Trif ’s enthusiasm from the day, though worry for her bit at him.

  Before he realized what he was saying, he offered, “I had a nephew who had problems ’porting. I still remember the spell learning-program he used to establish the proper mental pathways. I worked with him, since I teleport around the city often in the course of my duties. I could help you.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. It would mean a lot of physical contact, which was what h
ad popped into his head when he’d thought of the offer. But he hated the older/younger, authority figure/citizen image—and he was wrong there too. He shouldn’t want her to look at him as a man instead of a guardsman or instructor.

  She blinked. “You’d help me? The only learning program I know of is T’Bean’s Teleportation Teacher.”

  “That’s the one. As I said, I went through it with my nephew.”

  “Oh, I’d love to teleport better.”

  It was for her own safety, Ilex assured himself. She might need it someday. “You know that teleporting takes a certain level of Flair, and can be quite draining.”

  Her spine straightened. “You saw with my charm key that I can do good work. I really want to teleport well.”

  Ilex thought she was in that stage of life where everything she wanted, she wanted with a passion. What was he doing, spending more time with this woman, his HeartMate, when he’d determined to avoid her? She was smart. She’d find out sooner or later that they were mates. Later would be better. “I’m busy tonight.” He’d spend time shoring up his control. “We could start tomorrow evening,” he found himself saying.

  “Great!”

  The little cat mewed. I will help too. You will learn fast. Now I want to see the strange Fam the FamMan had in his thoughts.

  That was disconcerting, having a kitten read his thoughts. “I don’t know,” Ilex said, glancing at Trif. “Foxes have been known to eat cats.”

  Trif drew back, horrified, curved her hand around Greyku protectively. Then she lifted her chin. “I can’t believe any sentient Fam animal would eat another.”

  “I think there are a lot of things you can’t believe,” Ilex replied softly.

  Again they locked stares, and he felt old when he saw the vitality in hers. “I didn’t see Vertic come in yet,” Ilex said. “He may be sleeping in the bushes. He doesn’t always come when he is called.”

  Of course not, Greyku said smugly. No self-respecting Fam comes when called. Only lesser Fams like dogs do.

  Ilex laughed.

  Tilting her head, Trif said, “Laughing is good for you, you should do it more often.”

  Stiffening, Ilex glanced at his wrist timer. “Doesn’t the public carrier come in two minutes?”

  With a horrified gasp and a quick word of good-bye, Trif took off at a run.

  Ilex waited for GreatLady Danith D’Ash, the animal Healer who placed all Fam animals, to authorize opening the greeniron gates outside the T’Ash estate. He contemplated his next move. The Fams of the victims were the only witnesses to their companions’ deaths.

  This had to be the strangest thing he’d ever done in his career—interviewing Familiars. But ever since he’d been assigned to the FirstFamilies six years ago, his life had been one strange experience after another. The worst had been the grychomp incident a year past. Not only had he been petrified, but he wouldn’t live down the humiliation of literally being caught with his pants down in this lifetime.

  “Winterberry?” D’Ash’s voice echoing from the scrystone set in the gate pillar sounded breathless, harassed.

  “Yes, GreatLady,” he said soothingly.

  “Come in, come in.” She drummed her fingernails on the stone. The greeniron gates opened wide enough for a large man to enter.

  He strode up the gliderway and to the great front door of the modern Residence. As he reached the entrance, this door too swung open.

  Zanth, T’Ash’s tom FamCat, as disreputable as ever, met him. Come.

  Lifting his brows, Ilex followed the tom through the house to a series of rooms dedicated to D’Ash’s profession as an animal Healer. The animal Healer.

  He found her sitting cross-legged on a carpet that had once been beautiful and now appeared stained and ragged. An orange tomcat coughed in her lap. She stroked and praised it, and waited until it was done before looking at Ilex with tear-filled eyes. “Gib Ginger’s cat, Rhyz.”

  Pampered, cowardly, useless Cat, Zanth grumbled. Should live feral Downwind a year or two. He stalked back the way they’d come, tail high and stiff with disdain.

  The cat started coughing again. Winterberry eyed it dubiously, wondering if it would retch on his newly shined boots.

  “Shhh.” D’Ash curved herself over her charge. “You are a very strong Cat, a wonderful Kitty, excellent…”

  Again they waited for the cat to finish coughing; then D’Ash rose to her feet and offered the limp Fam to Ilex. Bracing himself, he took the orange tom who looked at him with sad green eyes.

  “Reassure him,” D’Ash told Ilex. “And I’ll get the other two you want.”

  The cat was heavier than he looked. Opening his Flair shields, Ilex sensed deep depression from the cat—more, swirling sensations of an experience that had terrorized it. Anger. Helplessness.

  “Shhh,” he found himself saying. “You are a valuable per—uh—Cat.” Ilex was good with upset people, and he sent the same calming Flair to the cat. It started coughing again. Wincing, Ilex found a battered and scratched chair and sat, murmuring to the Fam, “You are—wonderful.” Not as wonderful as Vertic. “You are strong. And you will be very helpful to me.” The cat looked at him, stopped coughing.

  At that moment D’Ash returned carrying a small housefluff—a genetic hybrid of an Earth rabbit and a Celtan mochyn. She was accompanied by a drooping puppy trudging beside her. She waved a hand and the walls throbbed with waves of lulling color, music lilted in quiet rhythms.

  “This is Anetha’s housefluff and Tern’s’s dog.”

  “Greetyou,” he said. “I didn’t know that housefluffs had become sentient enough to be good Fams.”

  Pink tinged D’Ash’s cheeks. “Only one generation. I’ve, uh, been breeding them for intelligence, empathy, and Flair.”

  Much as the FirstFamilies had bred themselves. But D’Ash had been born a commoner. Ilex nodded. He rubbed the cat he held under the chin as he considered the other Fams. “Still, I have a feeling that this guy will be the most useful to me.” The cat rumbled a rusty purr, barely audible. “Is there somewhere I can…speak…to him privately?”

  D’Ash’s lips compressed. “If you insist.”

  “I think it would be best. Your emotions…”

  She gave a watery sniff. “You’re right. But Rhyz lost his FamMan just before dawn yesterday, hardly time to grieve—”

  “He knows the time Gib died?” Ilex’s mind went on alert, though he kept his voice mellow.

  “Well, of course, they were bonded.” She cuddled the housefluff in her hands, chose another large chair, and sat, lifting the puppy up beside her thigh. It settled with a small sigh. Nibbling on her lip, she angled her head toward her right. “A couple of rooms down is my informal parlor for clients. Rhyz might be comfortable there.”

  Yessss, Rhyz said mentally.

  D’Ash nodded. “Very well then. You can communicate there.” Her brows lowered. “Be very careful of him, guardsman. He’s had a terrible shock. His coughing is not a physical, but emotional, illness, due to stress.”

  Ilex dipped his head. “I understand.”

  “You should speak with the dog here next. None of the Fams wanted to stay with their lost companions’ families, so I am finding them new homes. I have a prospective new Fam-Person for the housefluff coming in a septhour.”

  Clearing his throat, Ilex said, “One question. Has Rhyz been bathed—”

  Rhyz hissed and struggled in Ilex’s arms. D’Ash murmured, “Bathe a cat?”

  “My apologies. Groomed. Have you spoken to him about Gi—his experience?”

  “No,” she replied stiffly. “I have done no emotional Healing with him yet.”

  “Thank you.” Ilex turned the cat in his arms so he could meet its gaze. “I believe we could help each other, Rhyz.”

  The cat lashed his tail and looked aside, but didn’t protest as Ilex carried him to D’Ash’s sitting room.

  When the door to that room was closed and locked and Ilex and the cat had settled into a plus
h armchair, he set the cat on his thighs facing him and spoke to it as he would a human. It would be best if I could share the memory of the experience with you, Master Rhyz.

  Four

  “The new furniture line you designed for the family is selling well,” Trif said to her cuz Mitchella D’Blackthorn during mid-morning break in the office lounge. She was glad her cuz had dropped by; the morning had stretched long with boring, repetitive tasks, as usual.

  “Thank you. The family finally appreciates me.” Mitchella grinned, then turned serious and sent a narrowed look at Trif. “But you are not going to distract me. I’ve made an appointment with T’Willow for you.”

  “The matchmaker?” Trif squeaked. Her hot caff slopped over the rim of her cup and fell on her leg, staining her light blue trous, just missing a snoozing Greyku. Mitchella rose from her chair, hurried over, and recited a cleansing spell, and the cloth dried without staining.

  A few minutes before, Mitchella had swept down on the office, every inch a FirstFamily GrandLady, and whisked Trif and Greyku into the small break room.

  Trif continued. “But T’Willow is a GreatLord, his services must cost…” Her mind boggled at what they’d cost—probably a decade of her salary.

  “It’s not a consultation, but an informal meeting, to talk to you about HeartMates and all.” Mitchella patted Trif ’s shoulder. “He just ascended to his title, and that means most of the First Families will present him with welcoming gifts.” She smiled coolly. “And see what sort of man he is and whether he’ll be a good ally. You can take him a small table fountain I bespelled for him.”

  “There must be some other payment for this ‘informal meeting.’ And what do you mean, talk to me about Heart-Mates? You’re trying another way to dissuade me from going door to door.”

  Mitchella sighed. “I don’t think that’s wise and it’s not—” She waved a hand.