He hesitated, then she felt him shake his head. "No. That takes strength and Flair, and something has been hurting you." His tone took on a note of iron. "We may need all the strength and Flair we have when we discover what we battle."
Hand in hand, they made it out of her rooms, though she thought the Residence must mark their journey, then through the tunnel to the basement of the PublicLibrary and the oldest and strongest part of the foundation that held Secure Vault One. She opened the round door and they stepped inside.
Barton sniffed, loudly. "Nice smell. Flatsweets. With cocoa chips."
She stared. "The vault is filled with a strong honeysuckle scent."
Emotions flowed through his eyes that she couldn't decipher, then he revealed softly, "The smell of cocoa chip flatsweets means love to me. My mother made them for me when I got the apprenticeship to The Green Knight Fencing and Fighting Salon, when I reached my journeyman and master levels, when the Hollys asked me to stay on as an instructor." He let out a breath and drew another. "So she made them every time she was particularly proud of me. Or when I broke a bone or was sick, when I came back from the Healer. When I needed comfort, as well." His gaze drilled into hers. "What does honeysuckle mean to you?"
"Oh." She coughed. "You know that each of us, Mother and Father and Glyssa—" another hesitation and a hurt she didn't understand but had her frowning.
"Enata, lo—, wife?" Barton prompted.
She focused. "We each have our own library in the Residence. Mine smells of honeysuckle. My mother's father, MotherSire, whom I never knew, came from the Honeysuckle Family. Honeysuckle does mean love to me. At least it did before the beginning of the month, two weeks and four days ago." she shook her head. "Now I don’t care for the smell so much."
"Let me guess," Barton said dryly. "Your MotherSire Honeysuckle was a scholar."
"He studied the preservation of records, wrote the definitive monograph on it, and we still use his methods today. With his processes, we should be able to ensure our papyrus and books, vizes and recordspheres, will last millennia."
Barton squeezed her fingers. "Good work, then. Speaking of books," he angled his chin. "That one is glowing blue green and shooting off silver sparks. Is that normal?"
She looked up to see a volume straight ahead, in the middle of the shelf, glowing yellow and the spine running with silver and gold sparks.
The door behind them closed with a solid thunk and an equally loud clack as the large lock rotated. She murmured, "The door is not bespelled to shut and neither you nor I closed it."
Barton smiled and his voice came even more quietly than hers. "A little creepy."
Curiosity slid through their bond, along with his excitement. The notion they were making progress.
With a gulp, and straightening her shoulders, no more cowardice in her life, she walked to the shelf and touched the wide book spine. Tingles ran from her fingers through her body. She jerked a little and gasped. And Barton was there, yanking the book out.
"Cave of the Dark Goddess!" he cursed, then simply let go of the large volume and shook out his fingers.
The book didn't fall, but floated on an anti-grav spell, then it opened and thick papyrus pages flipped. Barton wrapped his arm around her waist and the brawn of it, the steadiness of their shared feelings, kept her own emotions stable.
They stepped to stare at the book together.
Looking up at her, with a wide smile, was her brother. "Reglis Landu Licorice," she read aloud in a choked voice. "CHOSEN," she nearly shouted. She'd read those words so often before. "I remember!" Her body began to shake and she wrapped her arms around herself. "Now I remember. All the times I've been in here this month!"
Barton turned her into his body, but his gaze remained on the book. "You never mentioned a brother." He cleared his throat. "None of you Licorices mentioned that there was a third child, an older brother to you and Glyssa."
"Because we don't remember!" Enata nearly screamed, her hysterical words echoed in the vault and made her compose herself. "None of us remember." Pressing her hands together, she calmed herself, as she had also done many times before. She'd come to the vault nearly every night, only skipping the last two nights because of her marriage. “At least I don't remember until I'm back here in the vault, reading this volume."
"What's the title of this book?"
"I don't know. There is nothing inscribed on the spine or the front cover. I don't recall reading the title page."
"Chosen," Barton repeated. "Any Clovers in here?"
"I don't think so." Holding her breath, she struggled to turn a page back from the entry on her brother, toward the front of the book, biting her lip until it hurt, feeling the muscles in her neck turn tight, she said, "It isn't often that I can move the pages." One flipped over. "Corylus Hazel." Another sheet. She held her breath. "Calluna Heather Hazel." She swallowed and read aloud, "'HeartMates acquired in the year noted as 405 years after the Colonization of Celta.'"
"405," Barton said. "The previous . . . chosen . . . before your brother left sixteen years ago. When did your brother . . . disappear?"
Enata spoke through a clogged throat. "Earlier this year, in the spring." Her lips trembled. "Reglis," she moaned his name.
Her fingers slipped and the papyrus sliced her a deep paper cut, and blood slowly welled to the top of her skin.
"This is hurting you, more than emotionally, physically, too." He picked her up. "We're getting out of here." He turned toward the entrance of the vault.
A filthy headache struck, along with a tense, upset stomach and she allowed herself to go limp in Barton's arms, glad he held her. "Open the door," he snapped.
Croaking a spell couplet she waved the thick vault door open and Barton carried her out of the place.
He lowered her to her feet, stuck his arm stiff against the wall next to the closed door of the vault, as if propping himself up. Several minutes passed in panting silence, then Barton stated, "We came here because you were compelled."
"Yes," she whispered, both her hands going to knead the back of her neck, trying to loosen stiff muscles.
"We went into the vault," he said flatly.
Giving up on her neck, she rubbed her temples. "I think so." Then she stretched long and hard. For the first time since they'd been together, his eyes didn't follow her movements.
"We should return to bed," she said weakly.
But he shook his head, rather like a bull, turned and squinted at the closed and solid vault door. "It got me, too, didn't it?"
"What?"
"You can't remember being in there just a little while ago, can you?"
She hesitated, then shook her head. "No."
"It got me, too. I can't remember."
Chapter 14
"We left for a reason," she pointed out, dreading the thought of returning.
"Let's go back in." He took a step, wobbled, and the muscles in his jaw bunched with teeth-set determination.
She stepped back so she could see all of his tall form, crossed her arms and studied him.
"You have a headache."
"Oh, yeah. Like hammers hitting my skull — inside and out." He winced, wiped a hand across his eyes and she saw perspiration coated his skin. "My gut feels bad, too.” He looked at the vault and snarled. "We will do this. Find out what is affecting you and me. Maybe any Licorice that comes into the vault, maybe any Librarian. You got any records as to who's accessed this vault since the beginning of the month?"
A veil of sickness seemed to separate her from the rest of the world, but she concentrated on his question. "Yes, upstairs in the library, but I don't think I have the strength to translocate that."
"We'll look at it later." His mouth set, and the hand he held out trembled. "This is a matter that must be handled, and we can do it, together."
"Yes, together." She took his hand and they entered the vault.
Four minutes later they stared at the floating volume.
"Reglis Licorice,
" Barton stated. "Corylus Hazel, Calluna Heather Hazel, HeartMates. All 'acquired.' Vanished from Druida City . . ."
"Vanished from memories," Enata said, voice thick.
"Wait!" Barton's eyes lit. "Wait." He sounded excited.
"What?"
His fingers fisted, then released. "My two relations are missing with no trace of them. I know all of these people have been nobles, but we Clovers are nobles, now. Do you think—"
"Perhaps."
He jerked a nod at the volume. "Let's look."
Drawing in a deep breath, she held it, counted a few seconds and released it. "Yes. We can do that."
Carefully, she turned the page away from the picture of her smiling brother, from the biography of his life and his list of skills, to the next page, placed her fingers on another sheet, folded it over. "Savi Clover, CHOSEN." She gasped and Barton swore, vilely.
Then he met her eyes. "It only says Savi."
"Yes."
"Then what happens to Balansa?"
"I don't know." Two fat tears rolled from her eyes. "When we leave this vault, we'll forget again, as everyone else has forgotten. Every time I leave, I've forgotten." The realization struck her so that she leaned over, hands on knees, shaking. Barton put his arm around her, raised her and she turned naturally into him. "Even D'Licorice HouseHeart has forgotten!" Needing to explain, even in this distress, words punctuated her sobs. "I was in the HouseHeart before our marriage two days ago and it talked about me becoming D'Licorice!"
"May your mother live a long, long life," Barton said fervently, with a note of humor in his voice that she cherished. This — him holding her, being tender with her, caring for her, showed she hadn't bungled their relationship too badly. He stroked her back and she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging close, then whispered, "What force could do that? Bespell all of our memories, even a HouseHeart's?"
"I don't know." His voice sounded hard. He took her wrists and moved a half-step away, touched under her chin and she looked up at him. "I don't know what person or monster could do, would do, such a terrible thing that hurt so many. But we will find out. For your brother and my cuzes."
She inclined her head. "Yes. For our loved ones."
He frowned, heavy brows dipping and she touched the line between his eyes, the soft skin there. "What?" she asked, sensing he thought of something else.
Slowly, he reeled out words as if he weighed an idea behind each one. "I have been fixated on Savi and Balansa. Even when Walker ordered me to leave the investigation alone, let them go, I could not. I've been obsessed." His body jerked in an explosive breath. "I didn't know them, lived on the far side of the compound than them. I concentrated on my immediate family, my guards, other charges. Didn’t paid any attention to Savi and Balansa – not enough attention, and that was our failure. That failure ate at me."
"And you think that might be another spell?"
"Maybe." He drew her close again, one arm around her, and they turned to watch the book still bobbing mid-air. "Or maybe there was the beginning of that compulsion to forget." With his free hand, he rubbed his temple. "Now that I think about it, I believe I can sense tendrils of forgetfulness softening my memories." His mouth quirked. "Maybe I'm just contrary and rebellious and fighting such a constraint."
A shiver trembled through Enata. "I hate being manipulated."
"Ah," Barton said, turned to face her, and kept his arms loosely around her waist. More tenderness flowed from him. "Yeah, we Clovers tend to have certain ideas and expectations of our Family members. The women did try to roll over you. I assure you that won't happen again."
"I won't let that happen again. Nor will I let your uncle Pink or your brother Walker dictate my place in your Family. I will make my own place."
Barton squeezed her. "Good."
She slid her hands up his chest, loving the feel of smooth skin over tough muscle under her palms. "I won't leave again, and I won't let you go."
His eyelids dropped over a glinting gaze, "I won't let you go, either. You are mine forever."
Her knees weakened, especially since a huge surge of love accompanied those words.
Then, with a sigh, they moved in unison to the book.
He glared down at the volume. Flicked a finger at it. "This bio info is all well and good, but where are they?"
She inhaled, closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, thinking. "Whatever has bespelled this tome hasn't let me move beyond the biographies."
"Yet," he growled. His jaw flexed, then he sent a sideways glance at her. "You've been in here often this month."
"Yes, nearly every night." Her voice caught. "And always I forget, then remember. It's horrible."
"It would be. But you learn a little more each time?"
"Yes. If I stay here long enough, I can move through the book. I can read all of the entries, now."
His eyes narrowed and his smile went sly. "Maybe it's a puzzle to be solved. The more often you come, and use it, the more you discover about it, you are rewarded."
"Perhaps," she said doubtfully, touched the thick pages stuck together at the back. "There should be an index back here."
"And a title page, too. What else do you know about this book?"
"I don't know."
"Think, FirstLevel Librarian."
"The cover," she finally said. "We know about the cover, and that gives us a clue to where the lost ones are!" She barely moved her fingers aside before Barton snapped the book shut. They stared at the dark blue leather cover. He touched the front. "Not furrabeast leather."
Enata shrugged, then tapped with her silver and gold nails on the outline of the map, the island off the coast. "This place is not on any other map of Celta. Not one." Her voice lowered. "The very first time I saw this volume, I'd been sent to retrieve the first copies of the maps taken by the starship Nuada's Sword as it entered our atmosphere, circled the planet and landed." Her finger shook. "This island isn't on those maps." She scooted over to a viz sphere, took it, set it in the air and tapped the glass to project a huge globe. They stared at the unblemished sea off the coast of the peninsula holding Druida City, then they looked at the book, with a map of the island.
"The last I heard of my cuzes was that they were at the docks. They'd taken a ship heading west." He rubbed his temples with thumb and forefinger. "Savi and Balansa are gone, but we haven't forgotten them, yet. Not me, nor Walker nor any of the other Clovers." He glanced at her. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
"We've been here long enough. The air in here is turning odd."
"If we leave, we'll forget."
"Will we? Something . . . someone wanted you to find this book. Has instilled compulsion in you and obsession in me. Now we've figured out about the Chosen, and where they might be. Maybe that's enough. I hope so." He tapped the globe and handed the viz back to her, took the closed book and pulled. Nothing happened. He let go, loosened his shoulder and back muscles, grabbed the book again and dragged with a steady pressure and enough effort that Enata saw all the muscles bunch under his tunic. The book didn’t move.
Finally, as sweat dampened his back, he swore and gave up, glanced at Enata. "Well, we can't take it with us. Do you have a writestick?"
She went to a box of supplies and pulled one out. He shoved up his sleeve and wrote with thick strokes on his inner arm: Remember? No? Go in vault.
"I think I tried that," she said.
He shrugged. "We'll continue this research until we can fix the problem. Ready?" He offered his hand.
Enata linked fingers with him. Barton dropped the marker in a box on the way out, Enata opened the door and they left.
Chapter 15
Once outside the vault, Enata closed the door, giving Barton the spellwords to open it. They sank down to sit leaning against the round metal wall of the door, cold against their backs.
"You still remember your brother?" he demanded.
She turned with raised brows. "The fact that you recall my
brother means the forgetfulness spell isn't working." She blinked and an expression of wonder came to her eyes. "And I don't feel too bad. No headache or nausea!" Blowing out a breath and inhaling, matching their breathing, they stared at each other.
"Such potent spells." A line appeared between her brows, as if she considered the puzzling circumstances. "Affecting both of us."
He took her hand and kissed it. "You are extraordinary. To have battled this every night, to lose your memory, feel so ill… yet still continue. I am awed by your courage."
She gave him a crooked smile, one side of her mouth up, the rest flat. "A compulsion worked upon me. I had no choice."
"I think you did," he said slowly. "If you really wanted to destroy that volume, for instance, I think you could. If you wanted to walk away from this vault and refuse to enter it ever again, I think that would be possible, too. You're a fighter, like me. And you solve puzzles, too. Like me."
"We can do this together." She repeated his words simply.
"Track our loved ones and find them and talk to them," he said.
"Make sure they are all right and," her voice thickened, "happy."
"And we know where to go."
"We know where to go." She flung herself into his arms and he held her close.
They stayed, embracing in the basement of the PublicLibrary, for long minutes. Now Enata could feel the bond with her brother! As if it had been blocked. Blessed bond. Even if her parents didn't recall it, or Glyssa — yet — Enata felt it. Her beloved brother Reglis.
FamMan, where are you! whined a tiny, insistent voice. I want you to feed Me. I want you to pet Me. I want to sit on your head.
Barton chortled, stood and hauled her up, then twined his fingers with hers. We are coming.
They walked toward the tunnel to D'Licorice Residence and she staggered only a little more than her very physically fit lover. The time in Secure Vault One had been hard on them.
"All that crap about vibrations," Barton said thoughtfully. "Worse in you, but also in me. The compulsion and obsession."
She shivered and put her thoughts into solid words. "Who, or what, has the power to wipe clean the memories of everyone? Who or what can stop us from feeling the primal link of a sibling bond?"
Lost Heart: A Celta Novella (Celta HeartMate Series) Page 10
