Barton's expression went grim.
"We'll find out."
* * *
But it took two full days of both of them using all their sources before they got results. Enata asked all the librarians and perused the book in the vault time and again. Barton tugged on all his contacts from GreatLord Straif T'Blackthorn, the noted tracker and his cuz Mitchella's husband, to Garrett Primross, a private investigator. Finally a grubby anonymous note came to them — to Enata at D'Licorice Residence one evening — that was written in very old script with instructions. If you want more information on the Chosen, you and the Clover and the Clover's FamCat show up at Pier twenty-three tomorrow at NoonBell for a sail to Cyfrinach Island. Not a moment sooner. No more than half a septhour later. Look for the ship Lady of Celta and Captain M. Mor.
Barton nipped the note from Enata's fingers and squinted at the handwriting, grunted. They'd remained off work and stayed at D'Licorice Residence. The multitude of the Clover bonds continued to bother Enata and being at her home mitigated that.
Besides, he didn't want anyone, like his brother, to realize they had ulterior motives in planning a wedding trip. Resup the kitten, of course, was thrilled he'd be traveling, then quite dubious when they went to the beach and watched the rolling surf. But he stuck with Barton, would not be left behind.
"Captain M. Mor," Enata murmured. "Another FirstFamily, Mor. There was a Manan Mor Chosen twenty-five years ago."
"The current FirstFamily GrandLady D'Mor practices the Family profession of mind Healing," Barton added. He and Enata shared a bleak look. They'd both come to the conclusion that when the memories of a Chosen was excised, it harmed all the individuals of a Family, as well as the Family itself, not to mention the Residence. That had been another creepy discovery. Though they spoke openly about the Chosen and the book, The Chosen of Celta, and the Residence knew their plans, when casually asked about Reglis, D'Licorice Residence didn't recall who he was.
Nor did anyone else, and now melancholy lived in Enata's eyes that not even kitten antics could banish.
And Barton didn't want his Family losing memories and fracturing.
They had determined that no one else had had ill effects from visiting Secure Vault One, that had been confined to Enata and him.
So they packed that day, and discussed their plans, then they went first to his Family since they anticipated they'd be the easier to break the news to. And so it proved.
The Clover elders at home had welcomed them, listened to their carefully shaded prevarications and smiled with smug indulgence while giving them dispensation to leave.
Barton didn't think that even his parents, Walker, or Walker's wife Sedwy, a noted behavioral observer, realized that he and Enata weren't being completely truthful.
Nor had Barton's second in command in the guards, or any of the security staff, which was a little disappointing.
That evening after dinner, they tackled the Licorices during Family time in the sitting room.
"We intend to take a wedding trip," Enata said.
D'Licorice's face went expressionless, worse, her eyes blank. She slumped in her wing chair. "Leave? Leave us alone in this Residence. All by ourselves? We've never lived all by ourselves." She turned and reached out to her HeartMate, groped for the hand that he gave her, then tightened her fingers as he did the same.
T'Licorice got up from his seat, bent to his wife and kissed her cheek, sat on the arm of her chair. "Having a newly wed couple take a trip is a common enough event, dearest. And we have each other."
"We'll be alone."
A rich chuckle from her husband. "That isn't necessarily bad, my love."
"I don't think I can, Fasic." Her voice rose.
"Ah, Rhiza." He gathered her into his arms. "Dearest, instead of staying in an empty Residence, why don't we take a small vacation, too, perhaps to our house in Gael City we haven't visited for three years. Or we could stay with my Family, the Almonds. They have plenty of space."
"What of the Residence? It might think we are abandoning—"
"Not at all," the Residence said. "I am not so shallow. And . . ." A long creaking came as if from floorboards, "I have wanted to do some internal renovations, moving walls and such. I have plenty of gilt in my budget for construction, and I have learned it's best if humans aren't around during such a time. I intend to make a suite for GrandSir Clover next to Enata's, with an office. Rework the craft room in the basement for better use by Jace Bayrum when he and Glyssa stay with us . . . "
"They aren't coming back!" Enata's mother broke down, turning to her husband. "They are staying in that dangerous and savage place!"
Barton noticed the whole atmosphere warmed around them and a subtle smell of soothing herbs released into the air. Very interesting.
"I don't believe that to be true," the Residence said. "I am older than all you humans. I have my knowledge of people, the combined wisdom of my fellow Residences and that of the starship, and access to all PublicLibrary files. I doubt the camp at the excavation of Lugh's Spear can be physically turned into a permanent community in the next half decade. That means Glyssa and Jace Bayrum will most likely winter here in Druida City."
"Oh," D'Licorice sniffled.
Barton took the opportunity to say, "You will always be welcome at the Clovers. Be given your own suite or even a small house. I guarantee you that you can be as busy and sociable there as you'd ever wish."
Two pairs of Licorice eyes stared at him. Enata's mother's mouth actually hung open in surprise.
"Maybe a trip to the Gael City house would be good," D'Licorice said. Then she disentangled herself from her husband, stood, and curtseyed to Barton. "We thank you very much for your generous offer, and I'm sure that as we become more acquainted with your Family we will take you up on that offer in the future."
Enata hugged her mother, held out her arm so her father could join their Family embrace. "I will always be here for you," she said, and Barton could hear she meant it, and that it comforted her Family, even though that wasn't a promise she could control. "I am not abandoning you, mother, father. I simply wish to spend time with my husband — as I know each of you cherishes the time you spend alone with each other."
The three heads dipped together until they touched, arms linked in a loose circle, and the hum of private Family thought, maybe even including the Residence, impinged on Barton's senses. He was outside, but didn't feel slighted. Instead he watched the Family dynamic.
He figured that Enata had changed her relationship with her parents, altered the way they would see her, interact with her, in the future.
They'd no longer have the command of her that they'd had. She’d take their feelings into consideration, but she wouldn't be ruled by them. This would slop over into their careers as FirstLevel Librarians, the Family business. The elder Licorices could no longer dictate to Enata what she would do. And Barton didn't think she'd maintain as cool a professional exterior as she had in the past, not his warm woman who began to bloom on her own.
He'd helped her with that, and he was proud to know he'd contributed, even knowing that his own battles with his Family, and perhaps hers, too, lay ahead. After they finished this wedding trip.
Chapter 16
The next day, an hour before NoonBell, Barton and Enata ate brunch in the main kitchen of Clover Compound to say a casual goodbye to his relatives. He didn't really anticipate anything going wrong, but who knew? Bottom line, they were dealing with someone or something that could rip the memories from every member of a Family. So he updated his will and left it with Walker.
With one last glance around his near sterile bedroom, he picked up his bag as Enata did hers. Resup, full of food, slept inside Barton's duffle.
She smiled, looking a whole lot more comfortable than the last time she was here, good. The whole Family had given her room, and Barton had made sure that other professional women had been at lunch — his cuz Trif and Walker's HeartMate, Sedwy.
"Ready?" E
nata asked, a lilt in her voice.
Excitement zipped through him, too. "Yeah." Clearing his throat, he said, "You know the Family thinks of this as a starter house for a bachelor since there's only two bedrooms. Would you like something . . . more?"
Chuckling, she shrugged. He saw no opinion in her eyes as she said, "You'll also be living in a connecting suite in D'Licorice Residence. We share that Residence with my parents." She dropped her bag and held out her hands. He walked up and took them, felt the strong bond between them.
She said, "It matters that I'm with you. I — we — don't know the future, how many children we might have. I am fine with any living arrangement as long as we're together."
He kept his expression serious, then sent a final spurt of telepathy to his brother Walker. We are leaving now!
Have a great time! Walker replied mentally.
I intend to.
Better you than me on the ocean, Walker sent absently, then Barton felt his mind focus on a task. Barton let out a breath. Looked like he and Enata had escaped detection absolutely clean.
Time to teleport. He moved behind his wife, wrapped his arm around her waist, brought her up against him. He loved keeping her in his arms, being with her, more every day. "Come on," he murmured, "Let's head out, count us down." He nuzzled her ear.
"You're very distracting."
He laughed. "So are you. It's all good, I think . . . I feel . . . I believe."
"We'll 'port to pier nineteen, outside a branch library."
"Fine."
A few minutes later a cool ocean breeze whipped at their clothes. "Fall Equinox, Mabon holiday in a couple of weeks," Barton said, folding his fingers over her cold ones. "I don't want to celebrate without Savi and Balansa."
She touched his cheek with her free hand and he looked into her eyes. "Barton, those people in The Chosen of Celta, Manan Mor, Corylus Hazel, Colluna Heather Hazel, and Reglis . . . they could have returned here if they wanted. You must accept that."
"As you've accepted it?"
"I sense my bond with my brother, and he's . . . content." She brought their linked hands to her breasts and he felt the thump of her heart. "No matter what, I must be happy with his choice, just as I must be pleased with Glyssa's to live across the continent. Their choice. What fulfills them. My choice for them and my needs about them must not be primary."
"Sounds like you're telling yourself that."
Her smile was wobbly. "I am. I'm selfish, I want my Family around me. But I truly do want my brother and sister to do what is right for them, a priority for them. Like we're leaving on this trip against my parents' wishes."
"And hiding the ultimate reason from my own Family. I get it. But I want them home." Words he kept repeating because they were true. He'd picked up the pace and now the ship, Lady of Celta, at pier twenty-six was in view.
"So you can try and fix your failure," Enata pressed.
So he was stubborn. "Maybe."
"Sometimes that can't be done. We can only live with the consequences of our actions."
"That's wisdom," said a voice in a noble accent.
They turned to a man nearly equal in height to Barton, somewhat older, who wore his long blond-brown hair in a tail. His hazel gaze was fixed on them.
Vinni T'Vine, the prophet of Celta. A surge of apprehension flowed from Barton to Enata, doubled to anxiety and poured back. Barton strove not to show that.
"Hey, Vinni," he said.
Vinni wore a puzzled expression. "I don't know exactly why I am here."
Barton felt Enata's pulse pound.
Vinni scrutinized them. "I . . . sense . . . that whatever you two will be doing, affects me somehow." His shoulders rolled uneasily.
"Enata and I are taking a wedding trip. A week, max. Do you see any problem with the voyage?" Barton asked as mildly as he could. Not many people were able to keep secrets from the prophet. But he'd known Vinni since they'd been boys and Barton kept his manner completely easy, acted as if he didn't lie with every thought and breath. Beside him, Enata showed nerves, but most people thought of her as high-strung, so that wouldn't tip Vinni off that she hid a secret from him.
Vinni's gaze had gone to the ship, beyond it and out to the ocean. "No-oo." He frowned. "A very odd trip . . ."
"We like odd," Enata said. "Will we be successful in, ah, bonding well?" She snuggled close to Barton, but he felt her aura, her unspoken questions, intensify. More like Will we be successful in discovering what's happening with our loved ones? Perhaps she thought that her intention might influence Vinni's gift, even if she phrased the question differently.
A long moment of silence with water lapping the stanchions came, then Vinni's expression lightened and he dipped his head. His eyes, always changeable when his Flair came upon him, returned to his standard hazel.
"Yes, you will be successful." Vinni's sharp gaze pinned the both of them. "This is . . . whatever you are doing . . . something that is vital and must be done." He frowned at them, then his eyes widened and he raised his hands, stepped back and nearly shouted, "No, I don't want to know and I will not stay in your company to have you trigger more of my Flair!" The prophet vanished.
And Barton sensed the Captain of the ship behind him.
He turned. "Greetyou, Captain Mor."
The man grunted. "Come along, then. We best leave as soon as possible." He grimaced. "Wasn't supposed to return to Druida City so soon. But she said so, so here I am."
Enata curtsied. "Greetyou and thank you, Captain Mor."
He stared at her. "You'd be the Licorice Librarian."
"That's right."
"You're welcome." He turned and began clumping away. "You're welcome, too, Clover. Though I doubt you'll like the whole thing."
And ME!
The Captain stopped, whirled, stared at the small head poking out of Barton’s duffle. "That's a kitten. I was told a FamCat. Perhaps."
I AM a CAT! Resup insisted.
Snorting, the Captain said, "You're a kitten." He snapped his fingers and a tiny orange floatation vest appeared in his hands. With gnarled but gentle fingers he put it on a frozen Resup. Enata had to use a spell to keep Barton's Fam quiet. He didn't like the vest, but understood why. Not only would the vest be easy to see, but it had a return-to-ship spell if Resup fell overboard.
* * *
It was the strangest sail . . . cruise Barton had ever experienced. He'd been out on a couple of FirstFamily noble's yachts, one dinner cruise off the coast as a Family celebration of a wedding anniversary, but never beyond the sight of land. And the Lady of Celta's crew was far too minimal for a seagoing ship. Weirdest of all was the method of transportation. A septhour and a half out of Druida City, the Captain sailed into a strong current that simply pulled along the whole ship as if it was locked straight into that flow. That lasted for a good day and a half.
Near the beginning of the trip, Barton had felt ill, as if someone messed with his Familial bonds. As he sweated and held onto Enata’s hand, he made her talk of Savi and Balansa . . . because their memories began to fade. Until the Captain told them the ship had reached the half way point to the island, where his cuzes were. Time away from their home and on the island? And distance? Barton figured those were factors in when such memories disappeared.
Though Enata questioned the Captain and got some answers which she noted down, the rest of the voyage Barton mostly watched Resup. Neither Captain nor crew paid much attention to him or the kitten.
The evening of the second day, they came into port in a wide bay surrounded by white cliffs. Only one dock thrust into the ocean.
Chapter 17
They exited Lady of Celta by walking down a gangplank to a pier. Enata had her bag on an anti-grav follow spell, and Barton carried his duffle, Resup once again tucked inside and snoozing.
Though the surrounding scenery was stunning with high cliffs of pale rock with verdant green covering the top of them, one with a looming castle, her gaze went to the three people standing
beyond the prow of the ship on the pier, two smaller ones in front of a tall man. A man with rusty hair the color of Glyssa's and eyes — though she couldn't see them — the color of her own. Reglis!
Her heart thumped hard in her chest.
Barton appeared more grim than intense and she wished she knew him well enough that she could drop a phrase into his mind to be easy on his young relatives.
Then he met her eyes and they warmed and a corner of his mouth lifted. You do well enough in knowing me, Barton sent to her mind.
The feeling is mutual, she said, then looked down the dock. Her eyes became accustomed to the dimness of the lowering sun dipping behind clouds and she ran toward the beloved, and now-well-recognized shape of her brother Reglis, shouting his name.
At the same time, the thin young man, looking more like a boy than a legal adult, glanced up and jolted. She heard his gasp. He grabbed his younger sister and held her.
Then she reached Reglis and threw herself into his arms. He smelled of honeysuckle.
"Enata! They told me to come to the pier, but I . . . " He choked and just grabbed her and they shook together. "I've missed you so much."
"Me, too." She decided it wasn't the time to tell him of the vanishing memories of everyone, to interrogate him about the terrible, wrenching spell that someone laid on the Families of the Chosen.
Barton strode past them, sending a tender thought. You talk to your brother.
Thank you for giving me this time alone with him, she replied telepathically.
There is time enough, he ended, though his shoulders squared as he headed for his own lost ones.
Reglis said, "Tell me everything that's happened. About you," he glanced at Barton's very nice retreating butt, "and your very handsome and virile lover."
"My new husband."
"Congratulations!" Reglis squeezed her tight, and she recalled that he, too, had no HeartMate in this lifetime. "Tell me all, and about Glyssa and the parents."
Lost Heart: A Celta Novella (Celta HeartMate Series) Page 11
