"Glyssa is off with her HeartMate to the excavation of the starship Lugh's Spear, and will be one of the founders of a community there."
"What!" Reglis gasped. "They're excavating Lugh's Spear? How utterly fascinating! Tell me everything. Who’s sponsoring—"
"The Elecampanes, of course, and Glyssa is the historian!"
"What a great opportunity. And she's found her HeartMate?"
"An adventurer named Jace Bayrum?" Enata lifted her own brows, got a quick shake of his head.
"Never heard of him."
"All right . . ." And instead of talking about The Chosen of Celta, and all her questions, she began telling her brother all that had passed outside this island. She treasured the easy flow of emotion through their sibling link.
Barton wasn't quite sure to handle his own relatives, neither of them had run to him. But he did try to keep a nervous frown off his face, and stopped within the distance expected of Family.
"Greetyou, Savi." Barton gave the youngster a half bow, angled his body to Balansa and gave her the same. "Greetyou Balansa."
They didn't have any features that proclaimed them "Clover" to him, but then none of the Clovers had wildly original features. Something of a commonality of manner, maybe, but no special hawk nose or wide brow, or whatever, that marked them all.
As a matter of fact, Savi appeared downright handsome, for sure with finer features than Barton's own blunt ones. And Balansa would be a beauty. Good looking young ones.
"Barton," Savi said, belligerence in his voice.
Barton judged him to be an instant away from an argument, maybe even a swing of a fist that Barton had followed him and disrupted his current life, questioned his judgment.
"Let's take this down the dock," he said.
With a curl of his lips, Savi turned and marched to solid ground, then stood that ground.
He spoke first. "I won't go back." His lips pressed together, he jutted his chin. "There is nothing there for me in Druida City, with the Clovers." He nearly spat the name. Expression seething with anger, he measured his gaze against Barton's. "You didn't care for us!" the cry of betrayal tore from his seventeen-year-old throat.
Barton stepped back, enough that he could bow low to the youngster. He also dropped his gaze, trusting in his reflexes to counter any strike from Savi. Keeping low, his gaze on the ground, he said, "I admit my wrong. I admit the wrong of the Head of the Household in failing you and your sister, in the deficiency in the Clover Family elders in caring for you." He stayed that way for long moments, as he'd learned as a child younger than Balansa.
"I acknowledge your apologies," Savi said gruffly.
Straightening, Barton inclined his head. "But you don't accept them, as is your right."
"It shows a lack of graciousness," said the girl who hadn't spoken until now. Both Savi and Barton flinched. She sounded just like their mothers.
"I accept your apology. All your apologies," the young man said reluctantly. His lips firmed. "But I've made my choice and I'm not going back."
"You're sure? The Family will—"
A near ugly laugh. "The Family is already broken into high status and low status ranks. Walker, you and your lady," Savi jerked his head at Enata, "obviously another noblewoman — those who marry nobles or know nobles well — and those of us who don't."
That hadn't occurred to Barton, and it wasn't quite true. Yet. But now that he thought on it, he could see the stratification Savi accused them of. That must stop. Since the whole Family must work to make them all affluent nobles, within the Family they had to be fluid. Recognize potential, like the Flair this young man had, the beauty of this pair. Barton knew who to put in charge of this, Sedwy, the anthropologist, Walker's wife.
"If you want a noble marriage, we could arrange it," he said mildly.
"And if I'd come to you that winter when our parents died?"
"We would have drawn you into a Family to shelter and care for you," Barton said promptly. He looked at Balansa. "We will do so for you, now. And Savi, you know you qualify for your own home in Clover Compound."
"Not for me," Savi said. "The lady has explained my choices." He stood straight and tall, a powerfully Flaired young man whose potential the Clovers hadn't seen or appreciated. "She does not want unwilling colonists, reluctant Chosen." The last word, more like a title, rolled rich and full off Savi's tongue. "She has plans for me, and I intend to stay."
"The Lady? Of the Lady and Lord?" Barton probed.
Savi's face clouded. "It is not my place to say. But if you came to find out whether I am happy here, I am. I will stay." He spread his arm in a wide gesture encompassing the island. "The Chosen here are the Best of the Best."
"I hear you," Barton said.
Savi nodded to Barton, one adult to another, equal. "I am glad to see you, though, Barton. It's good."
A lot of words about the dance Savi had led him on lay on Barton's tongue. All too negative. He swallowed them. "I am glad you found your place, youn—," he stopped that word. "Savi." Turning to the man's sister, he asked, "What of you, Balansa? Has the lady spoken to you?"
Her face crumpled, and she brushed her hand against her brother's as if wanting him to take it. He didn't seem to feel the touch.
We're here! said Resup's teeny voice. He clawed at the tab of Barton's duffle, stuck his head out, sniffed lustily. I smell you! he caroled, gaze fixed on Savi. You are sort of Clover.
"A kitten Fam," Balansa cooed. She glanced up at Barton. "May I hold him?"
Since she'd mentally heard the Fam, too, she had good Flair. "Sure."
She plucked him from the duffle and held him against her chest. "You are beautiful!"
Of course, said Resup, You smell like all Clover.
"A kitten Fam," Savi repeated flatly. "And the Clover Family doesn't have many individuals with Fam companions."
"Neither does any other Family," Barton retorted.
"But those who do have Fams are of the inner circle, privileged Clovers."
All right, the boy remained angry. Let him beat that anger against Barton, he could take it. "Says the man who is Chosen," Barton retorted. "Chosen above all other Clovers." Because he had been angry with his lot? Other Clovers weren't, so whoever . . .
"That's right.” Savi's voice, and his face, became rapt. He angled a little, his stare fixed, and Barton turned to look . . . at the sun, caught in the last bank of clouds before it set, shooting rays of yellow and pink up into the sky and coating the water below with a stream of the same colors. The rest of the world took on a bluish tinge of oncoming night. With a jolt, Barton understood that Savi was just appreciating this simple pleasure. Taking time from his day to watch the sun set because it was beautiful.
After a moment, Savi sighed, glanced back to Barton and said, equally easily, "I'm happy here, Barton. I'm happy with my choices. I have a good life, and a girlfriend." His smile came sudden and blinding. "And I will ask the lady for a Fam. She'll arrange one." He put his hand on his sister's back. "Shall we return to the Castle?"
Slowly Balansa held Resup out to Barton.
"I think we're all going to the same place." He looked over to Enata and Reglis who strolled toward them, heads still bent in conversation. "We'll catch up with you. Keep Resup until then, if he wants to go with you."
I have never been in a Castle! I would like to see one. I would like to run. Barton does not run enough.
Balansa grinned. "Thanks!"
"I can't promise a Fam kitten or cat," Barton said, observing Savi from the corner of his eyes, "but I bet I could get you a FamFox kit, Balansa. We have that fox den outside the Compound."
Joy filled her eyes. And Savi said nothing. Didn't insist that his sister stay. Interesting.
Savi and Balansa took off, Savi at a lope and Balansa at a run, on the criss-crossing path up the hill.
When Enata and her brother caught up to Barton, she put her arm around his waist, making them a unit. "Reglis, this is my husband, Barton Clover. Barto
n, this is my brother, Reglis Licorice." She nearly sang the last phrase.
Chapter 18
Putting his hands around her face, Reglis kissed her forehead. "I am so glad you found a husband dear to your heart." Reglis pivoted and kissed Barton on the cheek. "I'm glad you found my sister." Reglis stepped back. "Neither Enata nor I have HeartMates for this lifetime, but we both longed for a husband and partner. You look to be well-matched."
"By Saille T'Willow himself," Barton said dryly. He waited a beat. "As you would be if you returned to Druida City."
Reglis shook his head. "My life is here. I have a vocation I cannot abandon. We'll talk later about that and why you're here. Tomorrow, perhaps. Now I'll leave you to proceed to Celta’s Castle at your own pace while watching the sun set. I do have duties. You will be welcome at the castle and please consider it your home for as long as you are here."
After another smile and nod to them, he teleported away.
Barton took Enata's hand and they began to walk up the only visible path.
"So how much did you learn about this mysterious lady?"
"Lady?"
"That's what Savi called her."
"Not enough," Enata said.
He looked at her, noted the worry line twisted between her brows, and squeezed her fingers. "Both Savi and Reglis had a point."
"What?"
"We should enjoy the sunset." Barton paused as she turned and sighed at the brilliant colors painting sky and sea. "And be glad of steady land under our feet, a good dinner, and loving in a bed."
"You're right."
By the time they reached the huge double wooden doors of Celta's Castle, the walk, the evening and the warmth and humidity of the atmosphere had worked on Enata so that serenity pervaded her.
Whatever else, she had found her brother, and renewed her bond with him. That part of her trauma had disappeared.
The castle itself consisted of tall walls, both round and square towers, all of a reddish stone and set on a cliff overlooking the bay.
* * *
Barton awoke in the best bed he'd ever slept in the next morning. A nearly blasphemous thought for a man from the Clover Fine Furniture Family. He also woke up with, of course, the best woman he'd ever had curled next to him. High windows at the top of the walls opened to island air, wafting in humid breezes ladened with the scent of lush tropical flowers.
Really, the only irritating item was that he woke up because his FamKitten was hopping on him, claws not quite sheathed.
Barton grunted.
Good morning, FamMan Barton! the little cat trilled-purred.
"Uhn," said Enata, raising her lashes a little.
Good morning, FamWoman Enata! I NEED FOOD, then we need to explore the island!
Enata shuddered against Barton. He began to suspect she wasn't a morning person. That, maybe, she was even a night person. She sure had been lively the night before when they'd entered this beautiful room and she'd seen the magnificent carved four poster bed. He'd appreciated her energy, then.
Hop. Hop. Hop. A little tongue swiping across his cheek.
I ate all the furrabeast bites you had for the trip! I can't open the no-time! I'm HUNNGGRY!
Barton slipped from the bed. Resup sailed from the bedsponge to land in front of him, twitching a tiny tail.
I will sit on your foot and ride as you go to the sitting room and get Me food! He matched his words with action, plopping himself on Barton's foot.
"Watch the claws, cat. And what about the vibrations?" Barton asked.
Your vibrations match the ground now, Resup said.
"Huh." Each step careful, Barton walked to the sitting room. Sure enough, his duffle lay half off the seat the chair where he'd dropped it, gaping open, clothes and other stuff spilling out. Not one tiny shred of furrabeast bites, or jerky, or even clucker kibble remained. Spying a cabinet that looked a lot like the no-time food storage units at home, he ran his fingers along the top.
Weird, alien energy. Not really Flair-type energy, or Flair-tech, like he'd lived with all of his life. This no-time wasn't powered by the same stuff he was used to. But he opened it and found a pouch of tiny clucker cubes, ripped it and dumped them on a plate that had been stowed atop the no-time.
Absently listening to Resup munch, Barton expanded his senses. The same kind of energy hummed throughout the castle, only slightly augmented by Flair. Striding toward a window embrasure, he thinned the shield to nothing and drew in a breath to the bottom of his lungs. Plenty of energy and power, some of it Flair, most not.
Something to consider.
Then Enata came up behind him and put her arms around him and he figured it was time to return to bed. Their appointment with Reglis wasn't for a good septhour and a half.
* * *
Barton leaned against a paneled wall on the second floor of one of the round towers. The chamber encompassed the whole floor, with windows that could be thinned from stone to clear, or even to nothing by Flair. This room full of books, papyrus, vizes and recording spheres was Reglis Licorice's personal library.
The man had done well for himself.
Barton wanted to pace, had given the room a good pace or two as he studied the windows in between the bookcases. He'd looked out every one, checking the view. To the east and below he could easily see the bay and, in the opposite direction, what he believed to be the far edge of the island, maybe even a tinier island in the ocean beyond. In the middle of the land mass sat a gigantic, blue sapphire jewel of a lake . . . It appeared as though the island had been formed around the lake. He wondered if it was fresh or salt water. With the oddness of this whole place, it was probably fresh.
Enata had scrutinized the books and other stuff before sitting down in a large club chair to calmly await her brother. Like Barton, she wore professional garb. Hers was a long tunic split up the sides from below her knees to the top of her thighs, with trous beneath. Her tunic had rectangular sleeved pockets. He wore just-broken-in leathers, suitable for outside. He fully intended to take some island paths after the meeting, keep the exploration of Celta's Castle for later, though Resup had other ideas. He'd thrown a kitten tantrum when Barton suggested he accompany them to meet Enata's brother. Resup preferred to nose around the building. Barton had only wanted the kitten to stay inside, so they both won.
Barton and Enata had been early for the meeting. Since Reglis should show up in two minutes, Barton had stopped his circumnavigation of the room.
The door opened and Enata flew to the door to hug and be hugged by her brother.
Barton sensed the emotional flow between the siblings, glad his lady had that bond back. She held on tight until her brother began to appear uncomfortable and raised his brows at Barton. So he trod over and put his hand on her shoulder. "Come on, dear one, give Reglis time to answer our questions."
She nodded, then snuffled, and wiped the dampness of her eyes on his Flaired shirt, an intimacy that pleased him. Draping an arm around her shoulders, he led her to a wing back chair, and urged her to sit. He stood next to her, trying to look casual, but the moment had come and he thrummed with questions.
Reglis took a chair close to her, and Barton speared him with a gaze. "So who summoned us here?"
Head tilted, a touch of amusement on his lips and a dare in his eyes, Reglis said, “Can't you guess?"
"No," Barton replied flatly.
"Think big."
Barton shrugged. He sensed Enata's mind zipping through ideas.
"All right, think huge," Reglis spread his arms wide.
"Reg-lis!" Enata protested.
He leaned back in his chair and his face became serious. "Usually by the time we arrive here, we've been prepared. Perhaps that didn't occur with you. But I can't tell you. You must guess. It's the rule," he paused. "That is, I can't tell you at all, Barton. Eventually, I believe, Enata will be . . . ah . . . contacted."
Displaying weakness or not, Barton got up and paced. "I think better on my feet."
; "Of course," Reglis said easily. Still felt like a weakness to Barton. After a couple of circuits of the room he stopped at the east window and looked out at the bay, beyond those cliffs at the ocean separating the island and Druida City. Slowly, he began to winnow every hint he'd heard, put the puzzle together.
She. The Lady of Celta. The name of the sailing ship between this lost island and the peninsula holding Druida City.
An island not shown on any maps.
Not shown when the Earthan ships circling the planet recorded its geography as they landed. A shrouded island, even then?
Or maybe a new island, but how could that be?
An island especially formed for the Chosen of Celta.
By the Lady of Celta.
But not the goddess his culture worshipped, the partner to the Lord, the Celtic Lady and Lord that they, humans from Earth, had brought with them to form the basis of a new society on this planet.
Huge.
Vibrations in the ground, “bad” and not compatible to the Fam animals in Druida City, but “the same” as the ground here.
He’d sensed alien magic, not human psi-Flair or Flair technology all around.
But they were not the natives. They were the aliens.
And part of the culture they'd developed was that every particle of the universe was alive. Rocks. Mountains. Stars.
A planet.
Celta's Castle. Celta's Chosen.
An entity who could erase a person from the mind of everyone who'd ever known or known of that person.
He thought his mind exploded, snatched at the far reaches of it, the most incredible thought. He must be wrong. He'd sound foolish if he said what he was thinking. But he coughed, turned to look at Reglis and Enata. "The planet. This planet has — is — alive. Is a being, an entity. Celta."
Chapter 19
Reglis grinned and clapped once. "Well done, Barton! I never would have guessed. Never allowed my mind to extrapolate such a notion." He glanced at his sister. "How about you, Enata?"
Lost Heart: A Celta Novella (Celta HeartMate Series) Page 12
