She was dedicated to Celtan law. Ruis’s heart stumbled and he wiped his palms on his trous. He should feel triumphant that she intended to stay with him, wouldn’t deny him to others as her lover. But they hadn’t spoken of many things. They hadn’t talked of her danger, his rising fear for her and his equally burgeoning emotional demand for vengeance against his uncle—preferably with his own hands. His heart picked up beat. Somehow there must be a way he could have it all.
“Ship,” he said, “show me the brig.”
Ailim convinced Ruis to stay safe in the Ship and work on the “peeper” while she walked home. As she had anticipated, her attempt to reach either of the Holly brothers mentally had been futile. The last she’d seen of them on Ship’s holo, they plodded along the narrow strip of land between the mountains and the boghole.
She shivered in the cold autumn dawn and sped her pace until she passed through the greeniron gates and down the drive to her home.
D’SilverFir Residence’s round red towers picked up the rosy light of dawn and seemed to glow with peace and solidity. Ailim let out a quivering sigh. The castle was safe, ruddy towers capped with copper aged green, sitting whole on the small island, with the blue lake waters lapping around it.
She blinked away sudden tears. She’d never wanted to give the estate up, but at the time it seemed the only way out of the Family’s gilt problems. If she kept the Family in line for six months, the loan would be permanent and the estate forever safe.
The wind nipped color into her cheeks, and she strode across the drawbridge, probing the inhabitants with her mind. Everyone was asleep, while the Residence initiated the daily housekeeping spells. Far too few to maintain the estate properly.
If Bucus Elder had been encouraging Menzie to be a spendthrift for years, no wonder the Family lacked gilt. Ailim’s mother and Mother Sire would never have questioned the propriety of Menzie’s expenditures, or her loyalty. Ailim’s boot heels snapped against the stone drawbridge, the great doors burst open at the push of her mind. When she entered the Greathall, a swirl of autumn leaves joined her.
She swept up the stairs and to Menzie’s rooms. The door was unlocked. Ailim knocked perfunctorily and entered. Fetid air hit her. With a snap of her fingers and a Word, the drapes before the paned window clicked aside and the windows opened to fresh air. Another gesture sucked the odor from the room.
Menzie sat up and squealed. “You have no right, Ailim D’SilverFir, none, to—”
“Menzie SilverFir Cohosh. Your disloyal actions have brought shame upon this GrandHouse and have endangered the Family and the Residence. You have three minutes to defend yourself before I order your belongings packed and your transfer to the D’SilverFir Farm on the Ruby Ananda River.” Ailim folded her hands at her waist and donned her judge’s impassivity.
“You can’t—”
“I will. What I can’t do is afford any more actions on your part that could ruin the Family.”
Menzie gaped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Look at yourself, your torn clothes, the lack of your evil amulet! Residence?”
“Here, D’SilverFir.”
“Replay any scrys you have of Menzie SilverFir last night.”
A holo scry flickered on, showing Menzie clutching her amulet and slipping into the twilight. Unlike the holo screen of the Ship, the scry projected sound. “Throw the amulet into the earth fault. Throw the amulet into the earth fault. Return to the Residence,” Menzie muttered.
The holo changed viewpoints, then the grid Ailim had watched showed up. The scry went dark, then flickered as Menzie staggered back to the Residence in full night, clothes ripped and caked with dirt, spittle flecking her lips, the whites of her eyes showing around large pupils. She wrung her hands. Again she muttered at every step, “I tried, sweet lover. I tried. The amulet into the fault, the bitch, too.” Ailim flinched inwardly. “I tried. Your sextoy tried. Back to the Residence. Await the tremors. . . .”
It wasn’t enough for evidence against Bucus T’Elder! Ailim grit her teeth. Menzie hadn’t named him.
“Residence, was there any damage to the foundations or any part of the Residence because of the earth tremors triggered by Menzie’s amulet?”
“None, GrandLady. It is evident you prevented the tragedy.”
Menzie started keening. “I didn’t do it. No! I couldn’t have! Not me!” She swung her head to fix a stare on Ailim, her eyes feral. “Lies, you made that up. You concocted a plot.” She began screaming again.
“Silence spell!” Ailim ordered. Menzie wouldn’t be able to speak. “Listen. Who do you think the NobleCouncil will believe, a properly dated Residence scry and the word of a SupremeJudge, or a member of the Family who’s been known to spread spiteful gossip, who refused to give up a bane that harmed the Family, who went so far as to challenge the confirmed head of the household after swearing loyalty? Donax will support me on this.” Since he was still in bed with Cona, Ailim felt he’d shown what he wanted. “As will the D’SilverFir Heir, Caltha. So you think, and decide what you want to do. Consider this: Your lover let you set a trap that might have resulted in your own death.”
With a slash of the hand, Ailim said, “Release Spell.”
Menzie only gabbled, “He would not abandon me. He will support me.”
Ailim raised her brows. “Oh, will he? He’s married, so he violated that oath, too. You’re the only witness that he wants D’SilverFir for his own?” She snapped her teeth shut before she said what she really thought about the stupid, mean woman. “I will have a Healer attend you.”
“Yes, yes!”
“Think of who owns your loyalty. Think of what you have done to this Residence for years in your greed and your lust. When you’re stronger, I will have a certified Truth-Verifier question you. Until then you are confined to this room and allowed no visitors.”
“What about my daughter, my Cona!” Menzie wept.
“Your Cona is in the first flush of binding Donax Reed to her sexually. You think she will have time for you?” Ailim shouldn’t have said it, but her temper had taken far too much strain. Menzie’s gaze darted left and right, and she crept back into the corner of her bed to huddle.
“I will accompany Cona if she wishes to see you.” Ailim turned on her heel and left—anger singing in her veins, energy flowing through her.
Snapping a tiny power connection into place, Ruis stood back from the peeper as it began repairing itself. He’d “graduated” to working on delicate and complex apparatus.
“Calling crew,” said the Ship. “Please report to the Captain’s Quarters.”
Ruis’s eyebrows rose. “Why do I need Samba?”
“The peeper will be finished with its self-restoration by the time it is ready to be launched.”
“Really?”
“Estimated time to launch is five Celtan minutes.”
Samba zoomed in, nose lifted. I’m here!
Ruis carefully set the peeper, a cam as big as Samba’s head, on the saucer. “If you take this to the northwest lifepod cannon, you can watch it launch.”
Her eyes grew big. Me? Me watch it launch?
“Anticipated effect on the crew is her fur standing on end,” Ship said.
Samba’s tongue darted out to touch her nose as she considered it. New adventure. I’ll take now! Out she flew.
Ruis flexed the stiffness from his shoulders and grinned. “She’s very handy to have around.”
“She is not losing weight,” Ship grumbled.
Ruis shrugged and surveyed the workroom. Tidy and with only two other projects on the benches, the ambiance pleased him.
His gaze lodged on the multitool that he’d carried the night before during his visit to T’Elder Residence and he frowned. The little device had affected Ailim’s Flair. Whistling, he called up diagrams of the multitool and began to dismantle it, carefully noting where each piece fit.
“Peeper launched!” Ship said, drawing Ruis from his labor.
>
“Holo screen, please!” He was just in time to see a final glimmer disappearing into the deep blue of the Celtan sky.
“Correct trajectory and orbit of the peeper will be achieved in two Celtan minutes.”
“Fine,” Ruis said absently, more interested in peering at the core of the tool. The centerpiece looked like a huge model of an atom—about the size of a boy’s marble—with spinning nucleus and an orbiting electron or two. It glowed green. “Ship, tell me about this object and speculate as to whether and how it could depress Flair.”
“One moment, please. De-archiving material regarding the gyro-atom to analyze for hypotheses.”
While he waited he thought of the DepressFlair bracelet that had driven Shade to cut his own hand off. As far as Ruis knew, the bracelets consisted of layers of thin metal irradiated with Flair that disrupted the use of psi by those who wore them.
Ruis studied the buzzing gyro-atom. It must operate by an entirely different set of rules. His heart started thumping fast. Ailim cherished being with him because he negated her Flair which in turn expanded her physical senses. What if he could give her a gift she could wear whenever she wanted?
Moving closer, he examined the little device. He rubbed his hands. He couldn’t get the object that small, not on his first attempt, but it was a pretty thing and he bet he could craft a pendant the size of a walnut she could wear.
He’d encase the lovely thing in a crystal. He could inset a button in the back so she could regulate the field, too. Ruis could do no better than follow T’Ash’s—the master jeweler’s—design, so he gave Ship the dimensions he needed and ordered it to carve him a heart.
When the gyro-atom was inserted into the crystal, the heart would glow and sparkle with energy. It would make the T’Birch emeralds look like cheap glass. Ruis grinned.
He shook his head at the irony. He’d stolen T’Ash’s HeartGift, a necklace the GreatLord had designed to attract his HeartMate. Ruis’s smile died and his fingers curled into fists. He’d be upset if someone stole his gift to his lady.
HeartGift and HeartMates. He was a Null—never to know what those words truly meant. He could put all his skill and talent and heart into that gift and it would still fall short of a HeartGift that enticed and bonded. Regret coated his thoughts at never being able to reach any standard by which other people of his class were measured.
Ping! “The peeper is deployed and working at optimum capacity. Holo screen initiated to your right.”
Ruis glanced up. The Holly brothers appeared rough and tattered already. Ruis winced.
He looked around his workroom and sighed. Here he was, skilled and successful. He had a lover who melted his bones and fused his mind, an affectionate Fam who always amused. Why did he envy the Hollys?
Because their achievements were based on solid ground, and Ruis’s own were built on shifting sand that could be lost at a word from them that he still lived in Druida.
Seventeen
The next morning Ailim hurried to the Ship an hour before she was due at JudgmentGrove. Samba had slunk into Ailim’s bedchamber the night before, sulky because Ruis had ordered the Ship to restrict her saucer flying within Nuada’s Sword unless it was a dire emergency. Apparently there were forcefields on Samba’s exits that upended her saucer. Ailim thought the cat had been dumped four or five times.
Samba had dropped a little note written in Ruis’s spiky penmanship informing Ailim that the “peeper” was operational and the Hollys were alive and traveling southwest. Waiting to see what had happened to them, trying to figure out how to help, had preyed on her mind, distracting her from her Family problems so that she’d simply ushered an apprentice third-level Healer into Menzie’s room after handing the youngster written instructions.
Primrose had acted foolish for a good quarter septhour before Samba deigned to play with the puppy. Ailim had watched them in silent contentment until her thoughts turned to her love for Ruis and their dark future. Then her eyes had stung.
When she neared the Captain’s Quarters on Nuada’s Sword, the doors parted and she ran into Ruis’s den. He was there, sitting in the Captain’s Chair as Samba napped on one side of the desk.
The holo screen stretched from ceiling to floor. Holm and Tinne Holly appeared nearly life-sized. Digging her feet into the carpet, Ailim stopped abruptly.
“The Hollys look terrible!” she said.
“Yes, Holm and Tinne look bad,” Ruis said.
Ailim shot a glance at Ruis and knew he felt as bad about the Hollys as she did herself. It relieved her.
“I never truly wished Holm harm,” he said, rising.
She went into his arms, closed her eyes at the love that shivered through her at his touch. She tried to keep her mind on the topic. “Of course you didn’t plan to harm them.”
“But it happened.” His warm breath touched the top of her head.
“Yes, we can’t change that. We can only go forward. Together.”
His body rippled against hers. “Together? It would be best for you—”
She stepped back so she could gaze up at him. “I won’t let you face this alone.”
He set his fingers in her hair and slid them down her tresses. Her braids unraveled. “Look what I do to you.”
She took one of his hands and placed it on her breast where her heart quickened and her nipple hardened. “Feel what you do to me.”
A slow smile curved his lips. “That doesn’t help me deny myself. I’m a very selfish person.”
Two blond heads caught the corner of her eye. “No time for loving now,” she said regretfully. “The Hollys are breaking camp and moving out.” She scowled at the green-gray coating of their clothes. “Both of them look as if they fell into the bog!”
Ruis’s hand dropped from her breast. He turned to watch the silent show. “Yes. There’s strain between them, too. Something serious happened.”
“I see what you mean.” Her eyebrows lowered. “Even relationships have—rules. Obviously the parameters they’d formed as brothers before this adventure have changed or are in flux. They look stiff.”
Ruis tipped her face to his with a finger. He pressed a kiss on her that made her knees weaken. “Holm Holly wouldn’t cherish you the way I do.”
She’d forgotten his prickly jealousy of Holm. “No,” she agreed.
The tension in his body relaxed a bit. “Holly has all the advantages of the highest of nobles.”
“Holly is lost in the wilds of Celta,” she pointed out.
Ruis flashed a real grin. “It will do him good.”
Ailim took hold of Ruis’s wrist and tilted it to see his watch. “I have to go or be late for JudgmentGrove.”
Ruis brushed her forehead with a kiss. “I’ll see you this evening. We need to plot strategy to overturn Bucus.” His smile showed a lot of teeth. Ruis adopted a stance every bit as arrogant as any Holly.
“Yes.” She searched his face. “We’ll do this together, right? Work on ways of undermining his authority and gather evidence against him.” She made a face. “I must spend more time at gatherings, cultivating alliances.”
“I can take a cam from the Ship and record the evidence in the cottage.”
Ailim pushed her hands through her hair. “I don’t know if that will be admissible evidence—” When she saw his jaw clench, she hurried on “—but it can’t hurt.”
Ship hummed. “We can translate the images from our cam and transmit them to all the other Residence computers—ah, ResidenceLibraries—and the PublicLibrary.”
“It would be better in JudgmentGrove if the Ship was a disinterested party.” She shook her head. “Ship is completely biased in your favor.”
He caught her hands and lifted them to his lips, skimming kisses over her fingers. “As you are?”
“As I am.” A smile tugged from her at his demand for assurance, even as a curl of heat unfurled deep within her. How she wished she could spend the day with Ruis—in his bed, or the Greensward, or anywhere!
She pulled her hands from him. “I have a healer with Menzie and an appointment for a Truth-Verifier next week when she’s better. Since I’m partial toward you, and against Menzie, I must make sure not to prompt her. With care and a little time we will get the whole story from her about the amulet.” Ailim’s smile turned wry. “More expenses, which means I have to get to JudgmentGrove and earn my pay.”
Ruis walked with her to the portal slightly south of the one in line with JudgmentGrove. “This morning I rewarded Tal the mole with plenty of earthworms and I ordered repairs on your corridor between the HouseHeart and D’SilverFir Residence.”
Admiration and a touch of awe surged inside her. “Be careful, be very, very careful.”
He just smiled down at her and touched a finger to her lips, pressed and released. “The machines aren’t large. They trundled to your corridor’s service entrance last night.” He tilted his head back toward the Captain’s Quarter’s and his den. “I have a holo screen running on the progress. It’s slow, but thorough. The first layer of outer sheathing is being laid. With a couple more, there’s no doubt the corridor can be stabilized.”
All the energy the D’SilverFir spent maintaining the hall could go to more mundane spells. She licked her lips and forced the real question out. “So the corridor will be secure? Without any more spells?”
He touched her eyelids and his finger came away wet. “You humble me with your gratitude.”
“You aren’t really a very arrogant man.”
“No? When I think I’m better than the nobles, more honorable? That I can steal for my own purposes and not get caught?”
Ailim embraced him. “You are as honorable as the best noble, and more honorable than many.” Lifting her face, she examined him as she did every time they met, trying to see behind his eyes at the man beneath, and how he was changing.
He pressed her hand on his chest flat, and she felt his steady heartbeat. “I had no reason to live except for my little Earth machines, and even that passion wasn’t enough to overcome my resentment and anger, not then.” His watch chimed and he glanced down at it. “I’m working with Shade at FirstGrove this morning.”
Heart Thief Page 30
