A lot had been lost when the ship had gone down. All sorts of treasures inside.
“Greetyou,” said a soft voice, and an equally soft arm slipped between his side and his chest, since he had his hands jammed in his trous pockets. Forcing an easy smile on his face, he looked down at Funa Twinevine. He’d stopped having sex with her casually when he’d understood that she was also sleeping with his rival, Andic Sanicle. She was a hard worker, but she also had her eye on the treasures and was a shade more greedy and less honorable than Jace was comfortable with.
Three
Jace had known a lot of adventurers, one of his favorite types of women to play with. Funa was certainly easy on his eyes with a heart-shaped face, wide, lush mouth, and large, dark-brown eyes. She’d been inventive and flexible in bed, something he also enjoyed.
“Greetyou,” he said.
She frowned, pursing those lovely lips that he had no intention of ever kissing again—at least not until after she stopped sexing with Andic—and leaned against him. His body remembered being atop a bedsponge with her, but his mind and emotions remained cool. He kept the smile, though.
Funa stroked his arm. “You haven’t been friendly, lately.”
He grunted and shook his head. “I don’t like sharing a woman. Just irrational that way.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” She stepped back, fitted her hands on her hips.
“No. And I won’t. Do as you please.”
Tossing her sleek, long hair over her shoulders, she said, “You didn’t ask for exclusivity.”
He hadn’t even thought about that. Truth was, he hadn’t cared enough about her to think of that, but he knew she wouldn’t want to hear that, who would? “My mistake.” He made it regretful.
“Hmph.” Her shoulders wiggled. “I don’t want to give up Andic as a lover.”
Jace winced. “Ouch.”
And she let go a full-bodied laugh, punched him lightly in the shoulder, then sent him one of those under-the-eyelash sexy looks. “Not yet, anyway.”
Andic had discovered the last cache of artifacts near the camp, had gotten his cut for them up front.
Jace had empty pockets but hopeful dreams. He turned back to eye the beckoning but dark and narrow hole in the ground. He’d bet he could still fit, and in a couple more meters, if there was a passage, it would be wide.
Now Funa sighed. “That opening is so tempting, isn’t it?” She looked out at the crew heading with two heavy-duty earth-moving machines to where the Elecampanes thought the midship main door was.
“Yeah,” Jace said. Too tempting. He’d only get in trouble if he went down. And though he didn’t mind trouble, exploring on his own might get him thrown off the project. Not worth that.
So he turned back toward the camp some meters distant, saw Andic wave at Funa. She hurried from Jace’s side, and as a twitch hit between his shoulder blades, he knew he’d been right to refuse her. Just logical.
Didn’t have anything to do with recent dimly remembered erotic dreams. Or that very strong tug on his emotions he’d felt the day before. Or the incredible four-day sex weekend he’d had with that redhead, Glyssa Licorice, he’d visualized as he’d fallen down the damn hole. Really.
Years ago he’d had to force himself to forget Glyssa’s name, and now he recalled it again.
He scuffed back to his battered tent—large enough for two, to give him the personal space he needed—realized he kicked up dust on the dry land, and picked up his feet and hit the easy stride he liked the best. Too much thinking hampered a guy.
DRUIDA CITY
Glyssa stood in front of the review panel that would approve her field trip and a paper, pursuant to the procedure to become a FirstLevel Librarian of Celta. This was supposed to be a formality, but she knew it wouldn’t be. “I intend for my field trip to be to the excavation site of the recently located starship, Lugh’s Spear. And for my research to be on the last Captain of that ship.”
Her mother’s lips flattened, and Glyssa kept her flinch inside. Her father’s disappointed expression was worse. Her older sister hefted a long-suffering sigh.
As always, her mother spoke first. “We were under the impression that your final research studies would be on HouseHearts—one of the reasons we allowed you so much time in the PublicLibrary HouseHeart. And we believed that your field sabbatical would be around the city, and perhaps to a few of the budding sentient Residences outside of Druida and in Gael City.”
“GreatLord T’Hawthorn requested I write a biography of the Captain of the starship Lugh’s Spear. How Netra Sunaya Hoku commanded the ship as it landed, his leadership of the colonists on the journey to Druida City, and, perhaps, research his later life after he gave up fame and status as one of the FirstFamily GrandLords.” That topic would appeal to her supposedly egalitarian Family, though bringing up Laev T’Hawthorn’s name contrasted with that. Even her Family, who disdained the appearance of wealth and status, was aware of the highest social strata of the planet . . . and that Glyssa had connections there, since one of her best friends had married into that level.
Glyssa continued, “Laev has wanted a representative at the excavation for a while. His HeartMate, Camellia, not only is invested emotionally in the excavation, but under our laws, has a financial interest in the salvage of the ship.”
“He’s a sharp entrepreneur,” Glyssa’s father said with a hint of admiration.
“Will he be funding your trip?” Glyssa’s sister asked, acid in her tone, more from envy, Glyssa thought, than from worry that Glyssa’s research might be less than impartial.
Glyssa drew a sheaf of papyrus from the long, rectangular pocket of her formal gown, walked the pace to the desk the FirstLevel Librarians sat behind, and gave them the copy of the files Laev had sent to her.
Her father grunted, her mother looked up sharply. “This includes facsimiles of Captain Hoku’s journals!” Now she was excited. Camellia had been dilatory in giving that to the PublicLibrary though all of them had nagged her about it.
“I will have full cooperation from Camellia and Laev, and a letter of introduction to the Elecampanes who own and run the project, and who may bring me on as a secretary of the project.”
“A secretary,” her sister sneered.
Glyssa met her mother’s eyes, then her father’s. “Apparently they have no official secretary or historian for the site.”
Her Family gasped as one.
“Inconceivable,” said her sister.
“This must not be allowed.” Her father stood. He had a strain of restlessness and during times of great emotion, couldn’t keep still. Glyssa was beginning to feel like she might have inherited that from him. Deep inside, part of her sang at the thought of adventure.
Her mother clicked her tongue and her father resumed his seat. D’Licorice adjusted her sleeves on the table and intoned. “Is there anything else the applicant wishes to say about her field studies?”
Glyssa gritted her teeth briefly, but bowed her head. She’d decided to reveal all about the project, but not about her HeartMate. “GreatLady Camellia D’Hawthorn wishes not only a monograph on her ancestor, the last pilot and Captain of the starship Lugh’s Spear, she wishes a more popular story written for the general public.” The two plays based on the discovery of Celta were immensely popular. Glyssa shivered at the thought of providing a story for a third.
“Camellia would want something more easy to read,” Glyssa’s sister said nastily.
“Camellia is a successful businesswoman, not a scholar,” Glyssa shot back.
“Such comments are not pertinent to this review panel,” Glyssa’s mother snapped.
Glyssa straightened her spine, tried to keep her expression remote, as was expected. “I have agreed to the challenge.” Again she slid her gaze across her Family’s faces. They’d lapsed into scholarly impassivity also.
Her sister leaned forward. “What will you do if we do not approve of this field trip?”
Glyssa had hoped no one would
ask that question. She lifted her chin. “I believe the excavation of the lost starship, Lugh’s Spear, a ship different than our own Nuada’s Sword here in Druida, a ship whose culture during the long trip from Earth to Celta was radically different than that of Nuada’s Sword, is of great importance. And, as we all know, Lugh’s Spear carried knowledge about the colonists’ genetic psi power that Nuada’s Sword doesn’t have. Lugh’s Spear is not only vital to us in illuminating our past, but for future generations.” That was the definition of a discipline of study, and she backed the truth of her words with Flair, psi power. “If this panel does not find official merit for my work, I will proceed without its blessing.”
“I am concerned that you will be so far away . . . and the excavation is dangerous,” her mother said.
Glyssa figured that was one reason her HeartMate had been drawn there. “I believe GreatLord T’Hawthorn is working with Commander Dani Eve Elder and the starship Nuada’s Sword in the implementation of a new long-distance communications system.”
They all looked fascinated at this, too. Her sister’s mouth dropped open.
“You have been busy,” her father said.
Glyssa nodded.
Her mother said, “I approve the field study. But I expect more than reports or notes as proof of progress. I wish monograph pages . . .” she paused, “and pages and chapters of a ‘popular work’ with every weekly communication sent from the camp.”
Swallowing, Glyssa nodded. Sounded rough to her, a setup for failure. She was a slow writer and everyone knew it. She’d have to make the most of every moment she had at the excavation.
“I agree,” her father said.
Her sister pursed her lips, let the moment hang. The decision had to be unanimous. All Glyssa’s muscles tensed.
“I suppose I agree, too.” She made her sigh low and drawn out and Glyssa nearly flinched. She’d always hated that sigh, which her sister knew.
“The student’s final research paper and the field trip for that research is approved,” Glyssa’s mother said.
“But she is not a FirstLevel Librarian until she turns in her paper,” Glyssa’s sister said, smiling widely. Leaning back on her chair, she lifted a hand and studied her nails. “And since the student is abandoning her initial project of HouseHearts, I will pursue that.”
Glyssa stopped protest from escaping her mouth. Then recalled she’d spent years cultivating people who might talk, in general, about the HouseHearts in their intelligent Residences. Good luck to her sister in trying to pick up that.
“I don’t think so,” their mother said. “We will put that project in abeyance at this time.”
Glyssa’s sister scowled, but Glyssa’s stomach sank as she realized she was right. Her mother was setting her up for failure.
“Yip! Yip, yip, yip, yiiippp!” Lepid zoomed through the cat door, followed by the two library cats. He leapt onto the wide desk, scattered all the organized papyrus, then ran around the room and finally bounded into Glyssa’s arms, continuing to yip and taunt the cats.
“What is that?” Glyssa’s sister asked.
“A fox!” Glyssa’s father exclaimed, walked over, and scratched Lepid’s head, grinning at Glyssa. “You got a FoxFam!”
“Yes.”
We do not want him here, said the calico cat.
The PublicLibrary is OURS, said the long-haired brown cat. OURS only. Two Cats is enough. Glyssa thought the large building could accommodate five, and the annex one.
“I presume D’Ash gave him to you because he caused trouble,” Glyssa’s mother said.
Glyssa’s parents were very smart.
“He’s the same color as your hair,” Glyssa’s sister said, patting her deep auburn chignon.
“Calm down, everyone,” her mother said. “He won’t be staying here in the library.”
Hisses turned to cat mutters with a lot of whisker twitching. Tails high, the cats stalked to the Fam door and through it.
Lepid rubbed Glyssa’s father’s hand with his head. “He’s a charmer,” her father said.
Glyssa’s mother came around the desk. A small furrow showed between her brows. “Do you plan on taking such a young Fam to the excavation?”
“Yes,” Glyssa said. She touched the black collar around Lepid’s neck. “I can program this for the excavation’s clinic.” She’d checked that the camp had a medical facility.
“Very well,” her mother said in a smooth tone that had everyone looking at her. “We will deal with any further logistics when you and Lepid return.” She enveloped Glyssa in a warm embrace—as if that would ease the sting of being managed.
Her mother definitely didn’t approve of the trip. Glyssa set her chin. Too bad. Lepid wriggled out of her grip, jumping onto the floor.
“Tiana Mugwort is conducting a ritual at GreatCircle Temple for the success of my endeavors this evening at NightBell. You all will come, won’t you?” Glyssa asked.
Her sister sent her another look, eyes glinting with envy.
“Of course,” her father said. He put an arm around her mother’s waist, rolled his shoulders under his formal robe. “Glad this is over.” Bending, he kissed Glyssa’s cheek. “You can do this, pumpkin.” Then he kissed his HeartMate. “Last appointment of the day. Let’s go home and list items we want Glyssa to look into when she’s at the site.”
They all teleported away, though Glyssa was sure that her mother and father were heading for the bedroom as opposed to their study. Her sister left without a word.
Adventure! Lepid said.
There was that. Glyssa grinned, did a little dance step.
“And finding my HeartMate,” Glyssa murmured, picking up the small fox again. She hadn’t mentioned her HeartMate to her Family. They would strongly disapprove of her previous fling, and would be irritated that she was mixing the personal with the professional—as if they didn’t do that all the time. But though her parents were HeartMates, fortune hadn’t granted her sister a fated mate. Enata had not found a man she wished to have as her husband yet. So Glyssa rarely spoke of her own HeartMate.
Are there foxes where we are going? Lepid asked.
A brief wave of dizziness at the relief of being given what she wanted—the last step in the ladder of her career—washed through Glyssa, made her limp. Mixed with that was the nervy excitement of facing a completely unfamiliar experience. “I don’t know.” She was beginning to think she didn’t know far too much.
No. Don’t think of that. Despite everything, she would not fail. She’d claim her love, and write her thesis and a popular work for Camellia, and take that last step for her career.
Nothing would stop her, not even her mother’s maneuvering.
As they walked to GreatCircle Temple that evening, her parents were cheerful and Glyssa’s sister had gotten over her snit. A summer breeze cooled off the heat of the day and the sky was a soft blue with pink streamers.
The number of people who’d gathered inside the Temple to take place in the ceremony, to wish Glyssa well on her journey, surprised her. She’d expected her best friends to be there, Camellia D’Hawthorn and Tiana Mugwort, who was officiating the ritual. And she’d thought Laev, Camellia’s HeartMate would be there, too, but some of the other librarians of the main PublicLibrary and its branches attended, as well as a sprinkling of the greatest nobles in the land—the FirstFamilies. Those people descended from the colonists who funded the original space voyage.
That nearly made Glyssa giddy. Moving in such a social strata as an unequal could be dangerous. But a few of them had ties to the owners of the excavation project—the Elecampanes.
People lined up in twos, mostly married couples and HeartMates. Since Tiana stood as priestess and Lady in the center of the circle and Camellia and Laev were together, Glyssa was stuck with her thin-mouthed, damp-palmed sister.
But once the circle was joined and the energy cycled around, the pure delight of linking with others buoyed her spirits. Even her sister smiled.
And
the ritual went well, the Flair and blessings sent out into the world in general, some to the PublicLibrary, most to the excavation—some draped around Glyssa, went sparkling into her blood, and transferred to her Family.
By the time of the last prayer and opening of the circle, joyful conversation and hope for more information about the starship, about themselves, filled the room.
Camellia had donated much of the refreshments, and the good food pumped up the atmosphere even more.
When people left, Glyssa and Camellia and Tiana stayed talking among themselves in close-friend-speak about men. Camellia was gloriously happy with Laev, Tiana remained disappointed that her HeartMate didn’t look for her, no doubt put off by the terrible scandal in her life. They both gave Glyssa personal blessings and tokens for her HeartMate search and claiming, and ordered her to link with them telepathically at least once a week to stay in touch. The three of them practiced their mental conversation until Laev came in and wanted to talk about the technical and business portion of the project—reminding Glyssa that she’d be leaving the very next morning . . . which had Lepid shooting around the room again, barking happy fox yips.
Finally they all teleported home and despite the lovely energy, Glyssa fell into bed and into sleep . . . and she rolled over and touched her lover—drawn once more into the hot bond with her HeartMate.
Four
Yes, his skin was damp from the summer heat under her palms and he groaned in the way that made her catch her breath as she slipped her hands down his chest. Yes, she needed to touch him, feel the lean but strong lines of his muscles, know that he was whole . . . and though this was telepathic, his body would reflect the truth.
He slept and she knelt next to him, stroking up his sides, sliding her hands over his shoulders, tracing the line of his jaw with her thumbs, feathering over his cheeks. Beautiful man. She leaned closer, attracted by his spicy smell, touched her tongue to his collarbone to taste him.
Healthy man.
Very healthy, as he caught her in his arms and rolled them over, yanked the diaphanous gown she wore open, put his hands on her breasts.
Heart Fortune (Celta) Page 3
