Heart Fate

by Robin D. Owens

  On the second story at the far end of the other wing. He snorted. Of course Strother had chosen his own closet to be well away from Lahsin. Tinne had a feeling that when Strother awoke from Healing, he’d expect a place in Lahsin’s room, if not her bed.

  For a fleeting instant Tinne thought of being in bed with Lahsin, then the notion was gone, to his relief. He only wanted her safe. Maybe a few years in the future when they had both Healed from their emotional ills, they might consider a closer relationship. Right now, he was fine with just being her friend.

  And helping her through Passage.

  She wasn’t shivering anymore. The texture of her skin had changed under his hands, she felt nearly . . . slick. A shield? Her personal Flair was for shields, no doubt about that. He’d experienced her change in the shields around FirstGrove and seen it when she’d layered protection over T’Ash’s safe.

  That GreatLord knew she was Tinne’s HeartMate, of course. Tinne hadn’t said a word, but T’Ash had been Tinne’s brother’s best friend for years, knew most of the Holly secrets, and would have guessed. With a look, Tinne had asked him to keep his mouth shut, even from the Hollys.

  “What’s wrong with the girl?” asked the harsh voice of BalmHeal Residence. “Is she going to die? No dying within my walls! Stupid to have let her inside in the first place.”

  From what Tinne had seen, Lahsin would be able to breach any walls, any shields, at any time. “For a Residence who housed a Healing Family and other great Healers for centuries, your bedside manner isn’t very nice,” Tinne said. “She’s undergoing Second Passage, as you well know.”

  “She can stay,” the Residence grumbled. “As long as she doesn’t die during Passage. Is her line strong?”

  “Strong enough,” Tinne said. She’d surprised him by going to T’Ash’s with him. Granted, he’d prodded her a little, but she hadn’t given into her fears, though she’d had bloody evidence that her husband continued to search for her.

  Ilexa joined him, purring. She’d eyed Strother and her manner had taken on an awareness that when Strother Healed, he might be a match for her. Do you want my report, now? The T’Ash cats told me the Sallow dog was hurt worse. Smaller dog and not as mean. She said it almost with admiration.

  “The Sallow dog was just doing a job. Strother was defending his territory, the only place that has accepted him.”

  The only person who has accepted him?

  “Maybe. No surprise Strother won with so much at stake. Questions do remain. Did the Sallow hound know that Lahsin was behind the walls? Does he or the man know this is FirstGrove?”

  Sallow dog-nose is good. He’d picked up a trace of Lahsin’s scent, was casting up and down the narrow path between buildings. He did not find the animal path between the bushes and the wall, did not go there. Ilexa sniffed. Full of thorns. Don’t know how Lahsin made it through. Strother has thick matted hair, thorns catch on it. Ilexa paused to lick a patch of sleek hair.

  “Shields,” Tinne said. “Lahsin has a Flair for all sorts of wonderful shields. She had a need to go along the path, probably unconsciously put shields around her as she went.”

  I will go and check with Sallows and learn what their Fams have to say about this event.

  “Good idea,” Tinne said. He refrained from saying she’d get another meal from them. She’d picked up bad habits during her time on her own. With a slight pop, she teleported away.

  He reached Lahsin’s room, used Flair to open the door, and kicked it shut. He laid Lahsin gently on the bed, wondered if he should pull the window curtains, whether dark or light would be better. Wondered whether he should put a blanket over her. What did he know of “normal” Passages? Hollys always fought duels.

  Sniffing, he said, “Residence, what’s that smell?”

  “A mixture efficacious for Passage. The girl is not the first one to go through it here.”

  Tinne didn’t doubt that. Surely Passage was as tough or tougher on their ancestors. Worried parents would bring their children here, especially during First Passage at seven.

  “Thank you,” Tinne said.

  “I have only lost twelve.”

  Tinne gulped and tried to remember the last time he heard of someone dying during Passage. That didn’t happen as much with the FirstFamilies as it did with the lower Nobles and middle-class Commoners. Because the FirstFamilies had had Flair longer, valued it, sometimes bred for it.

  Dying during Passage wasn’t news Families circulated. He stared at the slim figure of Lahsin. She was a Burdock, of lower Noble GraceHouse rank. She’d demonstrated great Flair during her first Passage and had been tested for Flair. Those results, too, had placed her at the top of her group.

  If he squinted, he could see a hazy aura around her. Shield or Flair?

  It would probably be best if he held her, curled himself around her but he couldn’t bring himself to lie in bed with her. He had not slept with any other woman than his wife in years.

  Yet he could not leave Lahsin, either. He was aware of the bonds they’d already made between them. Just looking at her tugged his emotions. So young . . . Even if she hadn’t been his HeartMate, he couldn’t leave a person who was becoming a friend alone to her Passage.

  She shuddered, flung out her arms, thrashed. That confirmed his decision. He couldn’t leave her, couldn’t join her in bed. So he drew a chair close to the bedsponge and linked fingers with her. Her hand squeezed his tightly.

  Then he let himself sink into a trance—more like falling, which he hated, but which he was willing to endure for her.

  Suddenly he was there with her, not quite in the real world, but not totally in a world that her mind constructed, either. Heat blazed through her, through him, as if he touched a star. He knew she’d been cold, but now she was burning up, screaming in her mind, in his. Flames licked at him, and he tried to erect a small shield, and that spurred her.

  “No,” she cried and showed him, dream hands dancing quickly, spellwords that made no sense speeding from her brain to his. The power of her Flair whirled around him.

  Then they were in a translucent cage together, a cylinder that the storm could not penetrate. Elemental fears and bad memories and nightmares battered against the tube but produced no sound. Pellets of icy sleet that should have thundered, fiery rain that should have hissed. Eerie silence. He saw hideous faces in the steaming mist.

  She turned to him with a sudden, sweet smile. “I can do this. I can shield myself. I can shield you, too.”

  “Yes,” he said.

  Her smile widened, triumph lit her eyes. “I can master my Flair.”

  Tinne didn’t tell her that she’d have to embrace and control those shrieking, heated emotions to truly master her Flair.

  He woke septhours later, the day was fading into evening. His fingers were still wrapped around Lahsin’s. He glanced at her and saw that she’d sweated through her clothes, but didn’t think he should awaken her. He certainly wasn’t going to undress her.

  He didn’t remember the full Passage and was glad of it, but knew it was over for now. He had no idea when it might hit again, but thought it wouldn’t be tonight. His deathduel Second and Third Passages had occurred every night for five nights.

  But he didn’t know Lahsin’s cycle. Passage could come upon her the next day, or night, or in an eightday. She could have one or many more fugues. She could have flashbacks. He wished he knew more about Passage. “Residence,” he said in a low tone.

  “What do you want?”

  BalmHeal Residence was definitely not the eager-to-please Turquoise House.

  “Do you have a ResidenceLibrary?”

  “Of course,” the voice grated.

  “Tell me about Passages.” Lahsin’s grip had relaxed, but her fingers still curled in his own. Soft. He kept hold so they wouldn’t slip away.

  “Why don’t you ask the girl? She’s read everything in my physical library. I’ll wake her.”

  “No, let her sleep.” Flattery might help. �
�You have housed many powerfully Flaired and renowned Healers and must have observed and recorded their methods.” He glanced at the timer. “This Passage lasted about four septhours. Based on that—”

  “I modulated the room temperature according to the girl’s body temperature.”

  “Well done.” He cleared his throat. “Based on the many cases you must have witnessed, can you give me any idea of when her next wave of Passage will be?”

  “Passage is individual to the person,” the Residence said pompously.

  “Thank you for confirming that.” Tinne stayed casual.

  There was a couple of minutes of silence. Lahsin gave a little sigh and rolled over, her fingers slipping from his. She curled into a ball. Tinne stood and put a light blanket over her. Then he stretched and shook his limbs out. His body was stiff.

  The Residence still didn’t answer, playing a waiting game. “Perhaps it would be best if I asked Primary HealingHall.” Now the premier Healing grove on Celta.

  “Upstart.” A hesitation. “My best estimate is that the girl won’t have her next experience with Passage before tomorrow afternoon.”

  Tinne bowed. “Thank you.”

  An itching came at the back of his mind, someone probing for him. He had to leave. G’Uncle Tab would be concerned, and it was nearly time for Saille T’Willow’s training. Tonight was also one of the nights that he was supposed to spend in T’Holly HouseHeart. He’d looked forward to the serenity of that, but now he didn’t know.

  He wanted to stay with Lahsin.

  Just being in her presence eased some soreness within him. That might be a dangerous sign that they were becoming too close. Close enough that he was in danger of more than caring.

  He looked around for a memo sphere and didn’t see one, but there was a writestick and papyrus on the bed stand table. Lahsin’s pretty penmanship showed notes on Passage. Tinne didn’t read them, but turned the papyrus over and wrote: “No self-defense training tonight. Rest. See you tomorrow evening.” He hesitated long over the closing, then scrawled his first name.

  When he opened the bedroom door, Strother rose from the place he’d been lying across the hall. He inclined his head gravely at Tinne and trotted in gracefully. The bad leg was Healed, moving as strongly as his other three.

  He was tall enough to look over the bed. His nose wrinkled. Smells not like herself. Scared sweat.

  “Passage,” Tinne said, thinking the emotional upheaval over Strother might have sparked it.

  Strother gazed at Tinne. This is a good person.

  “I think so.”

  The dog nodded, studied Tinne from wary eyes. You are a good person, too, despite you have a FamCat.

  Tinne bowed. “Thank you.”

  A half smile formed on Strother’s muzzle. FamCat did not stay with you when times were hard. Came back afterward. I tell her that. Not loyal like a dog.

  With a chuckle, Tinne shook his head. Strother was more intelligent than he appeared.

  Strother studied Lahsin. She might be a good FamWoman. Tinne heard loneliness in the sentence. Strother continued, I could help her. I am big and strong and tough and mean to bad ones. He lifted and rotated his once-crippled leg. My leg is good now. I could leave, but that would not be loyal. His gaze slid to Tinne. She helped me. She fed me. She took me to D’Ash.

  “She paid for your Healing with her skill.”

  The dog snorted. Pay, pay, pay. Humans obsessed with pay. Doing what feelings say to do is more important.

  Tinne stared.

  Cats think of this “pay” stuff, too. Strother’s lip curled.

  That was true.

  My feelings say to stay and become Fam to Lahsin. I like her very much. He hopped onto the chair Tinne had vacated, curled up, and watched Lahsin. She will love me. That is best.

  Lahsin woke, her body aching as if she’d been beaten. Her mouth tasted horrible, and there was an unpleasant odor. As she came fully awake she realized with a wrinkling of her nose that the odor was her. Hurriedly she glanced down at herself. She was atop the bedsponge. Dirt and sweat showed on her, along with old blood—Strother’s blood—but it didn’t look like she’d lost control of any other bodily functions. Except . . . she put a hand to her face, which seemed tight in spots. Tears.

  Her sigh was more a groan as she propped herself on her elbow. “Definitely going to soak in the Healing pool.”

  I will go with you. There is a shallow pool that I like. But first we should eat dinner.

  She whipped her head to the direction of the mental comment and groaned as her neck cricked. Strother lay in a large chair pulled near the bed. She narrowed her eyes, a hazy memory of Tinne sitting there. He’d been here, right?

  Yes, he’d carried her to her room. He said he would stay, so of course he must have. The room itself was unusually warm.

  She met Strother’s big eyes and couldn’t quite make out the expression, but it wasn’t something she’d seen before. “Are you all right?”

  He stood in the chair, took a step, and was on the bedsponge, muzzle close to her face. I would be your Fam.

  Her heart gave one hard thump, and tears welled again so that she had to swallow. A companion! A real animal companion, a friend for life. She stared at him. “Are you sure?”

  He looked away, walked easily on the bedsponge to the end of it, and hopped down. I am sure. You fed me. You took me to D’Ash. You cared for me. Care for me.

  She got the idea that it was easier for him to say that when he was a shadow among shadows. Only a small glowspell light hovering near the bedside table lit the chamber.

  Swallowing, she rubbed her face. “I guess that’s true. I do care for you. I like you.”

  A movement and he was resting his muzzle on the bedsponge, staring at her. I like you, too, and we are much alike.

  She stood on wobbly legs, stiffened her knees and spine, and did a half bow. “I would be honored to be your Fam.”

  Strother lifted his head and nodded, turned, and nails clicking on the wood floor, he walked to the door. It was open a little, and he slipped out into the hallway. We can go on much like we have been, he said.

  No incredible emotional links, then. She didn’t know whether to be glad or not. All right. With a yearning glance at the waterfall room, she decided her dirt would be best soaked off. She left the overwarm room, too.

  Strother turned his head, and she saw the gleam of his eyes. But we will stay together from now on. We will travel together.

  She sniffed, her feelings were still rocky from Passage. That suits me fine.

  He grinned, and his big, sharp teeth gleamed, but she didn’t notice them as much as the tender expression in his eyes or the little hop he gave in pleasure.

  She followed him down the cool halls and the stairs at the far end of the corridor that came out on one side of the kitchen. Thank you for waiting to eat dinner with me. She waved the kitchen lights on. Flair welled within her. She had more now; it came to her faster and felt more polished—easier to work with.

  Strother grunted, took a stance beside the no-time. I would like wild turkbird tonight.

  Lahsin raised her brows. A feast meal. Wild turkbird from the old no-time of BalmHeal Residence would be different than wild turkbird now. Tempting.

  We have had a full day.

  Understatement. Yes, you had your leg reset and are no longer crippled, and I have undergone Passage. Suddenly she was ravenous. She chose wild turkbird and rice, requested a plate of dark turkbird meat for Strother. The no-time opened and showed steaming plates. Her mouth watered at the aroma.

  Using a hot pad, she lowered the plate to the floor for Strother, then went to a small one-person table and chair that she’d found in storage. The table was topped in large, old tile squares showing herbs. One had a piece missing and the chair was battered and had a short leg.

  She got water for them both and sat, then said a blessing. Strother murmured a half growl that she thought was his contribution to the prayer. One mor
e thing before you eat.

  Yes?

  The man, Tinne Holly, watched over you during Passage.

  I know.

  Strother nodded. You will thank him. But the Residence also helped you. It made the room nice with good smells and made it warm when you were cold and cool when you were warm.

  Thank you for telling me. She cleared her throat. “Residence?” “I am here.” And still cranky.

  “Thank you for helping me during Passage,” she said.

  “The doors to the MasterSuite and the HeirSuite need refinishing,” it said.

  Lahsin suppressed a sigh. “I’ll do that tomorrow.” But she didn’t let the Residence’s manner taint her appetite. The meal was fabulous. She’d have liked to ask the Residence for the recipe, but figured it was considered a Family secret.

  When she returned to her room to get her cloak and roll up some towels for herself and Strother, she saw the message from Tinne. No lessons tonight.

  This time she let a long sigh escape. Truthfully she wasn’t ready for self-defense training. Her body hurt even when she walked slowly. But she would miss talking to him.

  She would miss peeking at his body.

  She would miss putting her hands on his firm back, stroking ointment into his supple skin.

  Twenty-five

  The next morning a cold nose sliding down Lahsin’s arm and a little, high-pitched whine woke her with a jolt.

  Strother stepped out of reach. Past time for breakfast.

  “Wha—?” She sat up and glanced out the windows. The day was gray, no sun, it was later than she thought. She usually woke at sunrise. A look at the timer told her it was an hour past WorkBell. Late.

  It has snowed all night, is still snowing, Strother said.

  “Huh.” Not very smart this morning. “Thank you. Give me a minute while I use the waterfall room.”

  Strother sighed. You never come out of the waterfall room in less than a half septhour. I will go down to the conservatory. When I hear you in the kitchen I will meet you there. I would like scrambled eggs for breakfast.