Heart Quest

by Robin D. Owens

Tinne had gone motionless, watching from hooded eyes.

  Ilex dressed. “Yes. Your broken vow is costing you. And if it’s affecting you this much, what of your lady? She hasn’t debuted a new orchestral piece for several months.” He exhaled slowly; this was a dangerous man in a dangerous mood. “You Hollys pride yourselves on protecting your women, yet your own stubbornness keeps her health poorly. You cannot cherish her very much if you can’t bend your pride to keep her safe.”

  T’Holly flushed, fury emanating from him.

  Ilex turned his back on the man and walked to Tinne. “But I didn’t come to talk to you about that. I know you and the other FirstFamily Lords and Ladies must have discussed the murders. Does anyone have any information? Do any of you have children at risk? Those with shaky Flair and Fams?”

  Tinne handed Ilex a mug of cold water. “The victims haven’t been of the greatest Nobility, no one of greater status than a third son of a GrandLord.” He too sounded angry.

  Slanting a glance at him, Ilex saw fire in his eyes. “What of you and your wife?”

  His mouth tightened, then he spoke. “Genista passed her Third Passage well. Her Flair isn’t strong and her Passages were easy. I’m fine. My two previous Passages went well enough, with clearly defined beginnings and ends.” Tinne hunched a shoulder. “I won’t experience my Third Passage for a few years.”

  “And your HeartMate?” Ilex asked softly. Everyone close to the Hollys knew Tinne’s HeartMate was wed to another. Tinne knew who she was, if no one else.

  The color drained from Tinne’s face. He drew in a shuddering breath. “Her Second Passage won’t be for a while. Her Flair is…powerful and consistent. She should not have any trouble or be a target for this murderer.”

  “Good.”

  “Besides…” Now pain showed in every line of Tinne’s face. “Those who have died have been unmarried. The lady you speak of is wed.”

  “Yes,” Ilex said, and dazzling temptation rushed through him. He could eliminate Trif as prey if he wed her…only to lead her to another early death. He suppressed a shudder himself.

  “Another thing that wasn’t in your report,” Tinne said. “Gib complained about losing a favorite belt that he’d worn for years. The other victims had also lost some small, old possession just before they died.”

  Ilex stared at him, nodded. “Good work.”

  “Thank you.”

  T’Holly joined them, looking every centimeter the GreatLord. “Naturally, the FirstFamilies discussed this in a closed council session. We agree with your superior, Chief Sawyr. We want this to be kept quiet.”

  “Always conscious of the status of the FirstFamilies,” Tinne muttered. “I think you FirstFamilies should loan the services of your private guards to patrol.” His smile was more grimace than amusement. “I’d call in Holly relatives, but we’ve been delaying any training. I don’t want any more people stuck in this cursed household than there already are.”

  “Don’t you speak to me that way!” T’Holly thundered.

  Tinne pivoted to face his father. “Then be the man I thought you were! Strong and honorable. Someone I respected.” He gave an ugly laugh. “What will you do, disown me? I’m the only Heir you have now.”

  “The miasma works on you both,” Ilex said calmly, but his heart squeezed at the conflict between the two. At Tinne’s words, T’Holly’s head had jerked back as if with a blow. He looked worse than when Ilex had overcome him.

  With a flourishing bow, Tinne said, “My apologies for my rude manners. Come, I’ll walk you out.” He turned his back on his father, strode to the door, and flung it open. Ilex followed.

  They walked down halls decorated with weapons arranged in geometric patterns. It always chilled Ilex to think that anyone in the Residence could pick up a weapon at any time from the walls. Soon, they were outside the fortress. Tinne’s shoulders shifted as if a burden had eased, but the estate grounds too showed the effect of the GreatLord’s and Lady’s broken Vows of Honor. The plantings appeared dry and brittle, as if winter had already touched the land.

  “I want to offer you all my expertise in this matter,” Tinne said. “Anything I can do to help, let me know.”

  “I will.”

  Turning on his heel, Tinne looked back at the looming stone fortress of the T’Holly Residence scowling. “I hate living there. Mamá is not well, never recovered from her injury as she should have. I want to leave, but Gen—” He stopped, flashed a glance at Ilex.

  Ilex gripped his shoulder, squeezed. “I’m Family, distant, but Family all the same. I won’t speak of anything if you ever want to…go drinking.”

  A laugh tore from Tinne. “I can’t think of the last time I glided the bars. I’m an old married man.” He shook his head. “I’ve never heard that you dally in bars either.”

  Shrugging, Ilex said, “I go incognito.” He lifted his eyebrows. “I have an alternate identity, someone that Commoners—even Downwinders, might talk to.”

  “Really?” Tinne sounded fascinated.

  “Yes.”

  “This matter could get me out of the house,” Tinne murmured. “T’Holly insists I handle ‘Heir matters’ that my brother Holm always did. I hate it.”

  Opening all his senses, Ilex probed the emotions from the Residence, the grounds. A layer of grime seemed to coat him. He coughed, then said, “The breaking point is coming soon. I don’t know what it will be, but the strain on the household is too great.”

  “My father will have to admit he was wrong to disown Holm, that he truly did break his solemn Vows of Honor. Sometimes, I think he’s softening, then—” His mouth twisted. “You beating him in sparring, my angry words—they only made things worse for the moment.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Tinne sighed. “He’s not been the same man since Mamá was injured, but by the Cave of the Dark Goddess, he needs to accept the changes in our lives and move on!”

  “I don’t know what to say to help you.”

  Tinne shrugged, mouth flattened, then said, “There is no help. All rests with T’Holly. He’s had it so easy all his life! And except for the time Mamá was wounded, even the last few years haven’t been difficult.” He sent a brooding gaze around the grounds and finished softly. “This disarray grows on you, so you don’t even see it. You hardly notice that you’ve been sick more often in the past months than you were the year before, and the year before more than all the rest of your life.”

  Ilex laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I can’t help, I don’t have the resources you need.” Sweeping a bow, Ilex looked Tinne in the eyes. “Merry meet.”

  “Merry part.” His face had relaxed into his usual easy lines.

  “And merry meet again.” Ilex straightened and teleported away from the sad estate.

  That evening, Ilex returned to his apartment bone-tired. He’d interviewed—again—the victims’ Families, and though most were more coherent, he’d learned nothing new. His head ached from all the Flair he’d spent and the soothing he’d done and the emotions that had battered at him. He was glad he hadn’t made plans with Trif for teleportation lessons since his temper was so frayed.

  He stripped off his uniform and dressed in new white bloused trous and shirt, then sank into a comfort chair. For a while, he sipped lager and watched the last leaves of the tree outside his window whisk around as the wind tugged its branches. Then sound twined subtly into the quiet—a few rippling of notes now and then, weaving into a simple melody. The odd tune teased his ears; he caught himself straining to hear more. Underlying the music was a beat that sounded a little like footsteps. “Come to me.” “Come to me.”

  “Come to me.”

  His curiosity roused, he stood and crossed to the doorway, opened the hall door, and cocked his head to listen.

  The notes were pure, liquid.

  Trif was playing them, calling to her HeartMate, calling him. He’d heard her play before—her tin whistle, her panpipes, her recorder, but this was a flute. He’d
bet good money that it was expensive, fine, and Flaired.

  More overwhelming temptation. But the music reached down in him, soothing the jagged edges of his bad day, tugging at him.

  He shouldn’t go to her.

  But he wouldn’t snap at her now; the music had made that impossible. He leaned against the corridor and found he wasn’t the only one listening. Doors had opened all along the hallway and people stood outside. No men seemed drawn in a bespelled trance to her apartment and for that, Ilex was thankful.

  He looked toward the lobby entrance, and found doors open in the opposite hall and clusters of folk in the lobby. He smiled. She certainly had a talent here. What was she doing wasting it in her Family furniture factory?

  Pretty music, said Vertic, joining him, seeming nothing more than a shadow just inside Ilex’s apartment door. A heart song. He nudged Ilex’s calf with his head. It calls to you.

  It was damn near too hard to resist. Ilex’s body stirred. He clamped his hands around the doorjamb until his knuckles whitened.

  Then Trif stopped and the cold wind of loneliness, of being in autumn, settled in his soul.

  Quietly, other doors closed. Sending a tendril of Flair in both directions, Ilex learned that she’d soothed this whole front block of the lodge. Incredible.

  While he was bemused, Vertic trotted across to Trif ’s door and scratched on it. Ilex’s eyes widened—he was careful to keep Vertic out of sight of his fellow residents.

  Trif opened the door, a silver flute in her hand, a dreamy expression on her face, and smiled affectionately down at Vertic. She stooped to pet his thick red fur, then looked straight into Ilex’s eyes. “Come talk to me,” she said.

  He was lost.

  Nine

  He walked to her and she stepped back so Vertic and he could enter her home. “It seemed like a night for the flute.” She made a rueful face. “It’s been an odd day.” Sliding a glance toward him, she said quietly, “I’m sorry I went off on my quest this morning.” She shrugged. “It seemed the right thing to do at the time.”

  “The area near Landing Park is not thriving with people on the streets at dawn. Those Nobles usually participate in Druida’s social season and sleep late. None of the Family members that serve them would be outside either.” His voice was deeper than he liked, resonant with emotions she could read if she dared. “Can you please promise me to quest in populated neighborhoods?”

  Pink rose to her checks. “It’s a little embarrassing going door to door when there are a lot of people around.”

  “I didn’t think that bothered you.”

  “Some.”

  At that moment, the kitten Greyku zoomed into the room. Ah, here is Vertic. Here is Ilex. We can go to the beach now. Fresh fish. Yum.

  Trif looked down at her kitten. “You had your dinner.”

  You didn’t and you must eat so you can play lots of beautiful tunes that everyone loves, Greyku said virtuously, then spoiled it by adding, And I want More. She angled an ear at Vertic. Vertic Fox kept Me in the garden today. He said I could not go for fish by Myself and that the fish man sells the food. She looked thoughtful an instant. Though I think the fish man would give Me free food I am so beautiful.

  Ilex laughed and Trif laughed with him. It felt good. She raised her brows at him. “Have you eaten?”

  “No.”

  She licked her lips. “When was the last time you ate fish from a foodcart on the beach?”

  He smiled. “The beach across the road from the garden gate…”

  Trif grinned and shrugged. “May as well let Greyku see the beach.”

  The fish smelled goo-OOD all day, Greyku pleaded, watching them with huge blue eyes.

  “That means for the last septhour and a half we’ve been home,” Trif informed Ilex.

  Vertic swished his tail. I would like fish too. His tongue darted out to whisk around his muzzle.

  Greyku pranced to the door.

  “Can’t we teleport? I’d like to practice,” Trif said.

  He frowned and looked at windows painted with the weakening rays of the sun. “Evening and dawn are the worst times to teleport. Visualizing the light can be difficult. Don’t you know that?”

  Her smile was quick and charming. “Yes, but I’d like to spend time with you.”

  Words he shouldn’t have been pleased to hear, but was. “I’ll buy everyone fish at the vendor’s cart. Greyku can see the beach and Vertic can play in the waves.”

  “Yesss,” Greyku said, the tip of her tail twitching with excitement. “I have never seen the ocean.”

  Fish are good to eat, Vertic said.

  Trif stared down at him thoughtfully. “I can hear you too.”

  Greyku smiled a little cat smile. That is because he is clever as a fox.

  They laughed again. Trif scooped Greyku up and arranged her on her shoulder. Ilex offered his elbow to her and she curled her hand around his arm, tingling every nerve in his body. Vertic slunk out the door and donned his shadow illusion.

  Pleased at the sheer happiness of the moment, Ilex said, “We’ll eat and walk and talk until full dark, then teleport back.”

  “Yesss,” Trif said, in perfect imitation of her kitten, and did a little dance step as well, and the moment became burnished with gold.

  Trif finished eating before Ilex and they stood on the small stretch of beach and watched the sun go down.

  Greyku looked up at him and twitched her whiskers. I am sleepy and your shoulder is bigger than Trif’s. I will nap on you.

  “Running up and down the beach, teasing the waves, and screeching defiance to the ocean takes a lot out of a cat,” Ilex commiserated, finishing up the last bite of flaky fish wrapped in seaweed.

  Yes.

  So he arranged her on his shoulder and kept her cradled there with an “encompass” spell. She blinked sleepy blue eyes at him a couple of times, then stretched out and slept.

  “I want to show you something,” Ilex said to Trif. He started off to his favorite place in Druida.

  “What?”

  “Wait and see.”

  They walked for some minutes on the firm sand of the beach until they reached the rocky outcropping that defined the northern limits of the beach. The tide was out, and Ilex led Trif along the narrow slice of sand into a small cove no more than two meters across. He picked her up and sat her on an extruding ledge, then joined her.

  With a gesture, he motioned to the cove. “Look. Just look. See how the waves have made patterns on the sand, how the seaweed and shells lie, arranged perfectly by nature.”

  He wondered if she’d appreciate this place as he did, and waited. Would she be bored by this place? All his nerve endings prickled in anticipation of rejection.

  One minute. Two.

  “It’s ever changing, isn’t it?” She pointed a finger. “See how the foam is sometimes wide, sometimes narrow? And the empty shells roll as the waves pull them back into the ocean.”

  “Yes. And though it is always changing, the ocean and the sand and the rock remain the same over the days, transforming in small increments.”

  “It’s lovely. Peaceful.”

  “I think of it as a garden.”

  “A garden!”

  “A sea garden designed by the Lady and Lord.”

  She tilted her head. “I suppose. Ah! There’s the last flash of Bel as it sinks beyond the ocean.”

  Once again they lapsed into silence, and their breathing matched the swish of the waves. The whole world seemed to pulse inside Ilex, the sea his blood, the rock his bones…waiting for Trif—her touch or her words or her music.

  Finally, he noted the tide turning and jumped back onto the beach. Before he could lift her down, Trif was beside him. She laughed. “We’ll have to hurry or we’ll get wet.” She grabbed his hand and sped back down the beach.

  When they reached the place where they’d started, Trif stopped, whirled around, then heaved out a breath. “My friend Lark Apple loves Maroon Beach to the south but I
just don’t have the time to go down there.” She shrugged. “Too impatient for the carrier ride down and back.”

  Ilex glanced up and down the beach. “Not much of a beach here in the city…the docks are just around a curve to the south.”

  “Yes, whatever prime beach land Druida has was settled by the FirstFamilies. Maroon Beach is the closest nice one, and glider can get you there faster than the public carrier. Do you have a glider? You’re a Noble, aren’t you?”

  Heat crept up his cheeks. “I’m the second son of a GrandLady, a distant relative of the Hollys. I won’t ever inherit the title. No, I don’t have a glider.” As far as he knew, his mother had sold it. He smiled slightly. “I am a Druida Guardsman, and I rarely leave the city. And in the city, I can teleport.”

  “I’m working on that,” Trif said.

  Greyku, sat up on his shoulder. I want FamWoman now.

  Ilex transferred her to Trif ’s shoulder. As soon as the kitten was settled, she revved up her purr. We are helping you learn to ’port.

  “Speaking of which,” Trif said, “I understand why ’porting during dusk or dawn is hazardous, but you said you could teleport back home.” She looked around. “There isn’t anyone here, not that it would matter. Vertic is gone on foxy business, and I’m getting cool. Can we try ’porting back?” An uncertain expression flashed in her eyes. “I haven’t ever tried it at night.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Ilex said.

  She shook her head. “You are so certain sure, it’s amazing. So solid. I feel so safe with you.”

  Ilex winced inwardly. “You are completely safe with me.”

  He wrapped his arms around her loosely. “Stretch your mind and your Flair toward the landing pad in MidClass Lodge lobby. Envision it. Can you sense whether the light is on or off?”

  With an automatic flick of his Flair, he knew it was on.

  “Yes!” She quivered in his arms, her voice lilting with joy. “Yes, I can see the light. It’s on.” She looked up at him, lips curved and eyes bright, and it took all his willpower not to tighten his grip, turn her, and kiss her.

  Her smile faded. “What’s wrong? You look…hurt.”