Heart Sight

by Robin D. Owens

  A slight wariness at the changing status of them all with Bifrona’s illness pervaded most of his Family, along with a general low-grade grief at the thought of her passing.

  Lauda seemed cheerful, Arcto as smooth and welcoming as ever in grovestudy lessons, others like Nava and Lacinia respectful.

  He heard no outward complaints.

  At the main, upper gatehouse, he met with Duon, his Chief of Guards, to request the duty lists for the Vine guards for the current and previous month.

  One thing he knew, the villain wasn’t Duon. Vinni remembered the man’s big hands clasping his own as they pledged their loyalty to each other, confirmed their duties and obligations, not more than four years before.

  A person who’d broken such a Vow of Honor to attack Avellana would be showing significant effects of such a betrayal.

  And though Duon’s bond with Vinni seethed with suppressed annoyance, the man felt strong and solid.

  Vinni allowed Duon to accompany him as the representative for those who served the Family as protectors as they toured the gatehouses and guards’ quarters.

  Of the men and women he met, only the demoted Plicat greeted him with sullenness.

  The newly promoted First Lieutenant, Armen, spared Vinni a pale and sweating nod, which he shouldn’t have done, as another guard took him down as they trained. Vinni recognized the winner as a brand-new guard, assigned to the force last week after he finished his Second Passage and became an adult.

  He hopped around, fists waving in triumph, and Duon and Armen congratulated him. The teen hadn’t been sworn in as a guard, but Vinni recalled the boy’s Loyalty Oath after his First Passage at seven.

  He’d been born and lived all his life here at T’Vine Residence, cherished by and cherishing the Family. The joy of the young man throbbed through Vinni’s bond, easing him. He strode forward, holding out his forearm in a man’s greeting.

  The new guard flushed and accepted the gesture and Vinni’s congratulations.

  Duon and Vinni walked the castle walls. He met the new lieutenant, Fera, patrolling the west wall. Her bond with Arcto, the tutor, was stronger and more evident to Vinni. She smiled and nodded to Vinni, put on a more sober expression for Duon, but she radiated satisfaction with her job.

  Down and up. Up and down, the reactions to him, particularly by the guards. He didn’t mind regular Family tensions, but this wretched situation had added negativity to the whole Family, and he hated that.

  He had to resolve this, soon. Or else.

  After the last silent leg of the wall patrol, Duon left him with a grunt, and Vinni descended through public rooms on his way back to his own tower.

  And, finally, he sensed it. Dark malevolence aimed at him. It hung in the air like evil droplets, situated in the courtyard before his round tower, as if the person had paced back and forth.

  His gut clenched. Bad enough that he felt it, he thought it would sear Avellana if she’d happened to be with him and stepped into it.

  He glanced around, but no one lingered in the main courtyard; most of his Family enjoyed the groves and gardens.

  Raising his hands, he strode back and forth, murmuring a cleansing spell, drawing Flair from the housekeeping spells to ensure the courtyard itself became fresh and welcoming. The Family had a journeywoman priestess and an apprentice priest—both of whom respected Vinni—who could also do a spiritual cleaning of the area. He teleported to his suite, contacted them, checked on a snoozing Flora, then did what he’d really wanted to for septhours: contacted Avellana and told her he’d meet her in the D’Hazel Residence gardens.

  She awaited him in her favorite herb garden, one that had been modified by her parents and sister to reflect her Hopeful faith, with a crosslike path, a sundial with globe and arrow in the center, and benches at the ends of each graveled path.

  Giving him a half smile, she held out her hands. “Muin?”

  He swept her close, feeling her soft curves against his body, breathing in her scent, soaking up the feel of her Flair. The expansion of their bond with physical proximity filled him with sweet relief.

  “I am sure this has been an awful day for you and the Vines,” she murmured. “How is Bifrona?”

  “Ready to leave this life for the Wheel of Stars,” he murmured into her hair.

  “I am sorry.”

  “So are we all.”

  “Your message to me said she suffered a syrthio attack?”

  “Yes.” He loosened his clenched jaw. “I believe she figured out that a member of the Family attacked you, and it shocked her too much.”

  “Oh, Muin.”

  He grimaced. “A Vine, as you and I thought.”

  “That is a terrible thing, too.”

  “Yes.” Since his sex began to harden and he didn’t think he could talk Avellana into making love in person or coming to him in her dreams, he set her away from him and began to pace. “I spent most of the day reading reports and requesting more. Thinking about options.” He waved a hand. “Most of the attempts against your life have involved teleportation ‘accidents.’ That tells us a few things.”

  “He or she wanted to make everyone think I perished by accident.”

  Inclining his head, Vinni said, “Yes, always.”

  “Because they are a part of the Vine Family, as they were before, and they did not wish you to discover that.”

  Vinni flinched and he felt as if all the fury inside him solidified until he radiated rage . . . and stone-determination that had come upon him from just seeing love emanating from her. “Yes.” His lips moved enough to hiss the word out. He lifted his forearm, let it drop in a solid, cutting motion. “We are done with this.”

  “Oh?” she asked with a wary note in her voice.

  “We have options. One we’ve discussed before. If we can’t root them out, we leave.”

  Avellana’s eyes widened. “If we leave we could harm your Family, perhaps the Residence, too.”

  “To find our enemies, I will call for another Loyalty Ceremony, for you and me.”

  “A third? During your time as Head of Household? People will object.”

  “Let them. Everyone in my Family must take sides in this battle we face. If they are not with us, completely, they leave.” His lip curled. “I would prefer they leave. But I cannot harbor any more vipers in the nest of our Family, ready to kill us.” He stalked to her, took her hands. “We cannot endanger any children. This will be a rigorous Loyalty Ceremony, the most stringent I can find that has been crafted.”

  “You are right,” Avellana whispered. “We cannot raise children in a Family that might think they are defective or freaks or abominations. We must be able to trust your Family in the future.”

  “I think there are only one or two poisonous ones. Others might protest against me because of natural rebelliousness, or for greedy personal reasons to build influence in the Family.” He managed to twitch his lips up in what might be a small smile. “But if we cannot trust every single person in the castle, we will leave.” He met her gaze.

  She nodded. “We leave.”

  “I will point out to my relatives that if we leave, our Family will not have a viable GreatLady until Floricoma is six or seven or eight. And her regents will be Bicknell and Perna. Some people in T’Vine Residence have made . . . unfriends, if not enemies, of that couple.”

  “It will be like when your foremother died and you inherited.”

  “Yes, except I grew up in a household controlled by my cuzes, who had a unified agenda and followed strict traditions.” He paused. “If you and I leave, the Family will lose great influence and allies during the time it takes for Floricoma to become an adult. Other upwardly mobile Families might eclipse the Vines. We . . . they might never regain our present power.”

  Avellana shivered. “No one would like that.”

  “No.
I’m a strong, young GreatLord with influential personal friends as well as good allies. My Flair, and yours, is great, and we should have powerful children. Right now the Vines are one of the premier Families of Celta. The Family would most likely lose that if we walk away.”

  Shifting feet, a habit she should have been broken of years ago, Avellana said, “All of Druida City has seen what happens with the lack of a good leader at the Head of a FirstFamily.”

  “More than once,” Vinni said drily. He took in a breath, smelled the gorgeous scent of flowers, and it caused him to shudder. His decision had been made. He could speak easier. “If we leave, I will not have my NobleGilt for practicing as GreatLord, but everyone will know Vinni Vine—or whatever name we go by.”

  “My parents would adopt you as a Hazel.”

  Not his Family, not his culture, not what he wanted, but he said, “Good.” He sucked in a breath, let it out. “I’ll have a good business as an Oracle and seer.”

  “And I will continue to craft holographic murals and sell them to the Enlii Gallery and make good gilt, too.”

  “I like your house in Multiplicity, but it is yours. We will design my new home together and you can keep your place as a studio.” His smile came quickly now, felt warm like the emotions within him. “It will do no harm to have another estate for one of our children, or grandchildren.”

  She flung herself into his arms, and he held her close and shut his eyes and reveled in the feeling of her. All he ever needed, really, was Avellana. Everything else—his Flair, his status, his wealth and power, the Family and the Residence—had been given to him, imposed on him with expectations.

  “I love you, HeartMate,” he said.

  Avellana pulled back to meet his gaze. “I love you, too.”

  “As for my personal gilt.” He grimaced. “I never considered it. There is an account, I believe.”

  Avellana snorted.

  Shrugging his shoulders, he said, “I never paid much attention to the gilt, let the Family handle it, put most of it in the Family coffers, I think.” After a long breath, he said, “I will find out when I return to the Residence and separate what I have. I have been an easy lord to work for and with. That may have to stop.”

  “People won’t like that.”

  “Too bad. I do want to remain GreatLord T’Vine. I can affect the future of Druida City and Celta itself better.”

  “I agree. The last resort is walking away.”

  He set his forehead against hers. “We do this together.”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t and won’t do anything without you anymore, Avellana.”

  “Good!”

  So he pulled away and took her hand and they strolled to an arch of plants and into another garden.

  “Back to this teleportation business,” he continued slowly, piecing out his reasoning. “The villain or villains want to hide. They want to keep whatever identity they have now, the power, the status, whatever.”

  “They do not wish to be caught.”

  “No, they will try to kill us—”

  “Me.”

  “Us. But if they don’t succeed, they want to remain hidden.”

  Avellana gasped, stopped, and grabbed his forearm. “To threaten our children? We must not allow that, Muin.”

  “We won’t. Tear them out of the Family, roots and all, disinherit them, repudiate them, and by the Lord and the Lady, prosecute them.”

  He slowed his strides from a near march. “So they want to remain hidden; they are cowards. They wish others to think you might have a teleportation accident. They are cowards. And they seem to prefer traps more than up-close attacks. They are cowards. I don’t much like cowards in my Family.”

  “I think it is a quality that can be determined by certain testing? We could bring in a mind Healer—” she began.

  “Maybe. If we don’t smoke them out first, we will find them during the new Loyalty Ceremony. Anyone who does not wish to participate in that ceremony will be repudiated by the Family. Disowned. They will no longer be considered a Vine. That is my decision.”

  Wanting it done, he snapped his fingers, and a piece of papyrus appeared hanging before them. The very best papyrus. Marshaling his thoughts in good order, he lifted his hand and placed his palm on the document. Writing scrolled across the blank sheet. Fancy lettering at the top stated, “Mandatory Loyalty Ceremony of the FirstLevel.” Calling his and Avellana’s calendar spheres, he studied them and set a date eight days hence, the day of last quarter twinmoons in the formal T’Vine Grove.

  He showed Avellana the document. “You agree?”

  “Yes.”

  Rolling the papyrus into a scroll, he said, “We have now put a deadline on this matter. The villains will be pushed to try to harm us before the date of the Loyalty Oath, where they will be exposed.” His mouth tightened. “Family Flair reveals lies in those taking the oath—the Lord or Lady, and the individual Family member.”

  “Which means when the person took the Loyalty Oath the last time when you were thirteen—”

  “After your First Passage,” Vinni added.

  “Yes. She or he meant the oath.”

  “Yes,” Vinni said. “But at some point that changed.” He let out a ragged breath. “Before that ceremony at thirteen, fifteen people left the Family.”

  “I remember,” Avellana said. She ran her fingers down his arm. “You found them all positions with other Families.” She paused. “Do you think any of them—”

  “No. Most of them had not been villains, but they resented you, or me, or that we are HeartMates. Or were negative people I didn’t want to house. And most were of the oldest generation and are dead. The others are not involved.”

  “They must have missed their Family, perhaps did not live very long due to grief.”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged.

  “But I recall that you found them situations you believed would be better for them, and you said if they had children, they could return to the Residence, or if they, themselves, showed improvement of their attitude, they could return.”

  “None did.”

  She went on. “I am unsure when a broken oath, a Vow of Honor, might start affecting someone.”

  “I don’t know, either. A question for a priest or priestess.”

  Avellana let out a little sigh. “I suppose it depends upon the circumstances.”

  “Yes.” He made a cutting gesture. “That’s something we can work out later.”

  “If we could sense the evil . . . and trace it back in time, we might discover the person.”

  “I’m pretty sure that won’t happen within the time period we’re working with. We’re on a timeline, too.”

  “I understand.”

  “Worse for them, though. Hard to be pressured and still keep identities secret.” Vengeance rose through him, lay on his tongue temptingly. He wanted to find these people who’d influenced him—his dreams, his instincts—to send Avellana away. Whom he’d allowed to manipulate him and keep him from his HeartMate.

  Who’d caused Avellana worry and fear.

  Who’d attacked her.

  Oh, yes, he wanted to discover his enemies and extract justice. A darker, angrier part of him wanted more than justice, wanted punishment and vengeance. He must control that part, but he could acknowledge the emotions.

  Taking her hand, he held the rolled papyrus in his other hand. “I’m ready to send this ultimatum to the Family. Are you?”

  “It is your decision, and I am always with you, Muin.”

  He snorted. “Because you agree with this action. You’ll argue against anything you don’t believe I—we—should do.”

  “Naturally.” She gifted him with a sweet smile.

  Taking a last minute to weigh the papyrus in his hand, he considered it. In the document, he’d set out
his reasons for the ceremony. He’d inked the first line of text in red: Anyone not wishing to take part in the ritual will be banished from the Vine Family.

  Then he flicked his fingers and duplicated the papyrus several times to be placed around the Residence, and translocated it home.

  Almost immediately great shrieks echoed down his bonds with his relatives. He narrowed them to threads. Placed barriers against emotions reaching him. Blocked his scry pebble from Family calls.

  “There, it’s done. And I’m done being anyone other than myself, bending over to see everyone else’s point of view, being flexible so as not to ruffle the Family. I am GreatLord T’Vine, and will lead as I think best.”

  Avellana brushed a kiss on his lips. “I approve. Greetyou, GreatLord Muin T’Vine.”

  He circled her waist with his arm. “Greetyou, beloved.”

  “And you are a very good FirstFamily GreatLord and prophet,” she said. “You impressed Tosa of the WhitePoplars.”

  He sighed. “I hoped to, and thought I sensed that, but it’s good of you to tell me so.”

  Mouth curving, a sparkle in her eyes, Avellana continued, “She contacted me about buying property in Multiplicity. We have a meeting tomorrow.”

  He went on alert, sent his mind down the tiny thread of his bond to the young woman that had not quite faded since their consultation. Scouring all the information from that bond, he felt no threat to Avellana. “A simple business meeting?” he asked.

  She raised her brows. “Not so simple. Another person of a FirstFamily who might actually live in Multiplicity.”

  Vinni grunted.

  “And a member of one of the two FirstFamilies who is not our ally. We must cultivate her.”

  “Of course.”

  “Tosa is slightly older than I, so of our generation.”

  “Uh-huh. I’ll go with you.”

  Avellana narrowed her eyes, then nodded. “Very well.” She studied him for a moment. “What, you are not reminding me to wear my amulet and my armor?”

  He chuckled. “I thought I’d refrain from irritating you.”

  “Good notion. We are meeting Tosa in the new, large summer pavilion in rehabilitated Downwind that will be dedicated by GrandLord T’WhitePoplar tomorrow, right after the ceremony, a half septhour before NoonBell.”