The more who remember, the more chance it is that my people on my island will be interfered with. That I, myself, might be discovered and I am not one who wishes to be worshipped or prayed to or expected to grant trivial boons.
"Let Enata be a judge of who can know and who can't," Barton persuaded. "You have observed generations of Licorice Librarians. Have any betrayed you, even bent their word to you, their vows?"
I will consider. I have a very good and gentle link with your waking minds now. You may leave this place.
So he and Enata walked in silence — punctuated by Resup's squeals as he chased leaves and twigs rolled by the breeze and pounced, Glabra's ever cheerful melody. They'd reached the point on the cliffs to look out over the bay and the Lady of Celta that readied for the next voyage to Druida City, and watched that for some minutes, before Celta spoke again. This time she didn’t materialize.
I will allow the current Librarian embedded in the human culture, Enata Losa Licorice, to call upon me to lift the mists of ignorance from certain human brains. But there will be a price, always, to those who demand to remember bonds to the Chosen or wish to know of my presence.
"A price," Barton said warily.
Much like the one you and the Librarian have paid. If I have not met the person, that individual must come to this island to make herself or himself known to me that I might observe him and her and judge them worthy of their knowledge.
"The headaches and sickness," Enata murmured. "The disruption of our natural rhythms as experienced by others."
"The bad vibrations," Barton added.
"But," Enata said in tones of steel, “you must not take away Balansa's memories of her brother when she leaves with us.”
Unacceptable, Celta said. She is a sub-adult and cannot be trusted to be quiet.
"Yes, she can." Enata set her feet in the rock, ready to take a stand and fight. Barton had never admired her more.
"You cannot rip the entire memory of her brother away from her. You will break her." Enata's chin set. "And no matter how many people, sentient beings you've hurt and broken in the past—"
"Including Enata," Barton added. "Including Reglis who even now is upset because none of his Family remembers his existence."
"—I believe you are a compassionate person, and will not deliberately hurt people in the future. It's not what a decent being does."
Barton heard Enata inhale, then watched as she gracefully slid down to sit, and placed her hands on the ground. "Hear me, Lady Celta. Listen. I give you permission to deeply review my emotions and see how your tampering with my memories and the memories of my Family, removing Reglis from our recollections, harmed us!"
Horrified, Barton surged forward, slammed into an invisible spellshield and bounced back hard, landing on his ass. There he could only wait and watch, and pant with fear.
FamMan needs me! Resup darted out of the bushes and onto his lap. Barton picked his Fam up in both hands, liking the softness of the baby fur, the couple of licks Resup gave him.
FamWoman needs me! The bird succeeded where Barton couldn't and flew to Enata. I will sit on her head! I will keep her head good!
Barton fervently hoped so. In fact, he prayed to the Lady and Lord of his religion. And he sat and petted his Fam and watched as his beloved turned pale and trembled as an unimaginable entity played with her mind. He breathed and counted his breaths in and out to a hundred. Stopped and counted again. A third time, a fourth, and he lost track after that, except he knew the sun changed its angle and Resup fell asleep purring.
Finally Enata slumped.
Barton carefully tipped Resup from his shaking hands, leapt to his feet, went over to Enata and yanked her upright against him. And began to spew his fear. "You damn well should not have done that, Enata, and especially not by yourself, and not without consulting me."
"So-rry," she whispered.
"You should be," he said. His throat hurt. As if he'd been yelling all the while out loud instead of screaming silently.
You should be, echoed Resup. You scared us bad! The kitten clawed up Barton's trous leg and then his sleeve to anchor himself on Barton's shoulder.
"Sorry."
"You damn well talk to me before you do anything that might drive you mad or kill you. I mean it, Enata."
"I apologize," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. Then she cleared her throat. "I will ask the same of you."
"I agree," he said. "But you're indebted to me for one fliggering heart-stopping scare. You damn well remember that."
"All right."
"And I'm still angry with you."
"All right." She paused, and he realized he wasn't the only one shaking, she did, too. They just sort of shook in unison.
After about a quarter septhour, they'd settled, their hearts now beating together and in a regular, steady rhythm.
Before they left the ridge, Celta spoke,
I state my conclusions as follows: First: I see that removing all knowledge of her brother Savi will permanently maim the sub-adult Balansa, so I have allowed her to keep her memories. I have placed a silence spell upon Balansa so that she cannot speak of her brother to anyone except the City Librarian. Balansa's recollections of other Chosen and the island will fade. Second: The City Librarian's mate's memories will also fade. Third: All of the City Librarian's memories will remain intact. I have given the City Librarian the means to allow remembrance of me and any Chosen I have already taken to individuals she believes should be informed. I emphasize that there will be a price to be paid for such knowledge. Fourth and finally, I am reconsidering my policies of removing all memories of my Chosen from their Family members after understanding the ramifications of such distress upon the Licorice, Hazel, Heather, Mor, and Vine Families from facts I found in the City Librarian's memories of these Families. I will also consider modifying my qualifications of Chosen to include affect on Families if memories were excised, but I will decide who retains memories and who does not upon a case by case basis. Those are my conclusions. You may leave the island at your convenience.
"We thank you," Barton forced himself to say, yanked the feeling of gratitude from his depths and projected it to the great being of Celta. He bowed in the four directions.
"We thank you," Enata said, curtseying in each direction.
Thanks, Celta! Resup said. I want to go back to Druida City that's more interesting!
Thank you, lady, sang Glabra. I know you will be with me as we sing together, but I am pleased to go with my FamWoman.
Chapter 24
That evening they told Reglis and Captain Mor that they'd be ready to depart for Druida City the next day at MidMorning Bell. When night fell both Resup and Glabra deserted them — Resup to help Glabra gather things from here to take for a nest she'd establish in Druida City.
Enata had taken a waterfall with Barton and he'd displayed excellent skill in pleasuring them both. Now she sat wrapped in a thin silkeen robe and watched Barton, who only wore a towel around his waist, obtain a couple of flutes of prime fizz wine from the no-time. His every movement was efficient and virile.
There was no sexier man in the world than Barton Clover.
She stilled as dread washed through her bringing a rush of horrible questions. Could someone have read her mind and provided this man? More, could have bespelled both of them to love at first sight?
The same, powerful person, powerful force who'd erased the memories of the lost family members. Celta.
Did that entity manipulate human emotions? Mold them to fit with another's?
The deep horror of it caught Enata's breath. Exactly how much might have the planet controlled her . . . and Barton. Was their love real? And if not, would they fall out of love at some point in the future? How terrible!
Barton stood in front of her, frowning. He placed both glasses on a side table, picked her from her chair, sat, and put her on his lap. "What's wrong?"
Since she panted and could feel his concern, so he must be
feeling her panic, she couldn't deny anything.
"Best tell me about it." He wrapped his arms around her, and even naked from he waist up, he kept her warm.
"I had a few thoughts."
"Okay, tell me."
"The planet made us love each other, not normal falling in love or love at first sight." She gulped, calculated. "It all started at the dark of the twinmoons, the first day of the month of Reed."
He stroked her hair. "I had my appointment with the matchmaker before the dark of the twinmoons, the last week of the month of Ivy."
She relaxed, but her mind kept running. "And when did your quest truly begin?"
He froze. "The disappearances occurred at Ivy full twinmoons."
Tears coated her throat, backed up, stinging, behind her eyes. "Both potent twinmoons cycles. We've been manipulated."
"Let's ask the planet." A sharp smile edged his lips, and he squeezed her. "But I'm not giving you up."
She bit her lip, swallowed hard. "I don't like thinking we've been bespelled. What happens if the spell wears off? I couldn't bear it. Better that we end our relationship now, when the hurt won't—"
"The hurt now would fliggering tear me apart. And how the fligger do you think we'd live? And what about children for our Families? You're not leaving me again. We made vows, Enata."
"You're right. I'm running scared. Again."
Barton pointed to the luxurious square carpet that had a circular floral border and the four directions picked out with woven bouquets. "We'll just stand right there in that circle and ask Celta." He set her on her feet, and when he took his place, he stood braced as if for a fight.
He took her hand and put it over his heart. "We marry for love, we Clovers. So far. We haven't been noble enough for us to get any ideas that we should increase our status or fortune or whatever—" he stopped. "Well, Walker had a problem with the elders, but he resolved that in his usual quiet Walker fashion."
"I'm sure his HeartMate Sedwy had something to say about it."
Barton grinned. "Yes, she did."
Seeing him smile unwound the tension enveloping Enata.
With a jerk of his chin, he asked aloud, "So, Celta, we call on you for information. Have you manipulated me and Enata to fall in love with each other?"
Why is it important that I fashioned you for each other in your mothers' wombs?
Barton sat abruptly on the carpet, pulling Enata down with him.
"Because we prefer to find our own destiny?" Enata squeaked, trying to get her mind around the new information.
The whole room seemed to waver in her vision and Barton rocked against her.
You do not understand the dynamics of the universe, Celta said. You love and are loved. That is sufficient.
"Do you also do HeartMates and HeartBonds?" Enata asked.
No, those are beyond Me. Created by a greater power.
"Lady and Lord," Enata whispered.
"Lord and Lady," Barton said gruffly, at the same time. He fell backward and took her with him. They lay there, on the thick patterned rugs like nothing they'd seen before, staring up at the beautiful patterned wood above them, for long minutes.
Finally Barton cleared his throat. "I think I can accept that I've been manipulated by our planet, our home, to love you, to fit with you."
"Me too," Enata said inelegantly.
"All right, then."
Their eyes met. She took his hand and led him to the bedsponge. There she made love to him tenderly, thoroughly, hoping the love she felt for him wasn't artificial, wouldn't fade.
But a shard of fear that unnatural love could vanish lodged in her heart. She wished they'd been HeartMates.
Chapter 25
Midmorning the next day, Captain Mor stood stiff and straight near the end of the gangplank that led up to the ship, The Lady of Celta. Enata, Barton, Balansa and the Fams awaited the signal to board.
After one last hug, Reglis snapped his fingers and translocated a box. "For you and Barton. Please open them now."
Enata unwrapped the gift, tucking bow and paper into one of her sleeves, Barton took off the top of the box and pushed back softleaves to reveal gorgeous marriage armbands. Lined with bespelled velvet, the base was copper, and the engraved panels pure gold. The etching showed eternal Celtic marriage knots framed by a clover blossom on one side and a spray of licorice leaves on the other.
"I noticed you didn't wear marriage armbands," Reglis said.
"We married quickly," Barton said gruffly. "Didn't pick any out. These are fabulous. We'll treasure them."
"Such a wonderful gift!" She flung herself against her brother and squeezed him hard, was glad of his tight clasp.
When he let go, he blinked several times. "Don't be a stranger. Come back now and again. You can, you know."
"I know. I might." She glanced at Barton. They all knew his memory of this would fade.
Barton shrugged. "I'll probably go off on training missions now and then, you can come here."
Reglis slapped him on the shoulder. "Barton, you are a man among men."
"I know."
"And now we're linked again, we can speak telepathically," Reglis said. He closed his eyes a few seconds. "You can keep me up to date on the Family."
"And everything else," Enata added.
Eyes damp, Reglis turned to Balansa and said, "I have a gift for you, too." Another snap of his fingers and a small black and white kitten appeared in his hands.
Her shriek of happiness bounced off the cliffs of the bay, mingling with the kitten's plaintive mews and Resup's demands to See a new Fam friend!
With a grimace, Captain Mor stepped up and snapped another tiny orange vest around the kitten.
Then last hugs around and they trooped up the gangplank.
Barton helped the crew raise the platform and stow it, then looked toward where he last saw Reglis. The man had vanished, teleporting to the Castle, though Barton would bet any amount of gilt that Reglis would be watching from a tower until The Lady of Celta sailed out of sight. A good man, and one who loved his job as much as Enata did hers. This separation was tough on the both of them. Enata had already disappeared below, not wanting to see the island that held her brother diminish in the distance.
Turning to the Captain, Barton said, "I thank you for bringing us here and taking us back."
"Just doing my job," Mor said.
Barton shrugged. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
The Captain measured him with wary eyes. After a couple of breaths, he said, "I'd like a membership to The Green Knight Fencing and Fighting Salon. Like to go there on shore leave in Druida City."
"I can do that," Barton said. If he couldn't get the Hollys to donate a membership, he and the Clovers could buy one for the Captain. Always good to have an influential acquaintance. And as the physical connection between Druida City and Cyfrinach Island, Captain Mor was a good acquaintance to have.
Reaching into his jacket pocket, Mor handed a piece of papyrus and a writestick to Barton. "Better write down a promissory scrip for that membership for me. 'Cuz you'll be forgetting all about it in a little while."
Barton wrote: I hereby promise Captain Mor—
"Spell it 'Moores'," the Captain instructed.
Doing so, Barton finished the note and handed back to Mor, along with the writestick. "When will my memory start to fail?"
"Once we pass the halfway point from the island to the peninsula. Good luck to you."
"And to you." Barton tried a smile, but it turned lopsided. "I won't remember you when you introduce yourself to me in Druida City and remind me of the note, but . . . maybe we can build an acquaintance there."
For once the man's eyes didn't look like hard marbles. He dipped his head. "Maybe."
* * *
The first part of the trip passed well, if with a touch of melancholy. When they reached the midpoint, Barton came down with a fever for several septhours, then moaned, shuddered once, and fell into a deep sleep. When he
awoke, he had no knowledge of Savi or the events on Cyfrinach Island other than their sexual bouts and that Enata had claimed a new FamCompanion.
As she'd promised before they left, Enata told him he was missing memories, and that he could have them back, but the price would be steep. Since he did recall her suffering in the vault, if not the cause, he grunted but didn't press her. As time wore on, his mood lightened as he played with Balansa, the kitten, and talked to Glabra about the best things to have in a nest-home.
Until a septhour before they reached Druida City.
* * *
"Something's wrong," Barton muttered. He'd come up to stand next to Enata and look over the rail in the direction of Druida City.
"What?" she asked.
He rubbed his neck, then his chest. "Something is definitely wrong." Lifting his face into the breeze coming from the distant shore, he inhaled. Then he rubbed over his heart. "It's Walker."
"Walker?"
"Walker's sick." Barton turned to her, glowering. "These damn memories that I've lost. Is there something in them that might have affected Walker, too? Hurt him?"
Dismay filled her, but she'd promised to answer any of his questions honestly. "Perhaps."
"Cave of the Dark Goddess!" He banged the rail of the ship with his fist, then muttered more vile curses she hadn't heard him use before. He swung around. "Captain Mor, can we go any faster?" he shouted.
The Captain strode up to them with his rolling walk and face set in hard lines. "Maybe. If I think we should." He looked at Enata.
"How sick is Walker?" she asked.
"Sick enough."
So she nodded to Captain Mor. "I think that if we can get more speed, we should." Curving her mouth in a small smile, she said, "And the sooner we land, the sooner you're rid of us."
"There is that," the Captain grunted. He stalked away, gathered some of his crew around him and they went to the prow. Enata sensed great Flair, and a touch of that otherness, planetary energy, and the ship picked up significant speed.
Lost Heart: A Celta Novella (Celta HeartMate Series) Page 15
