Script of the Heart
Page 1
Script of the Heart
A Celta HeartMate Novel
Robin D. Owens
Follow Your Heart
Copyright
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
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Contents
Acknowledgments
Cast of Characters
Timeline Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Also by Robin D. Owens
About the Author
Dedication
To my Mom and brothers, Tom and Pat, who continue to demonstrate what family really is.
Acknowledgments
For research help with Heart Journey and this spin-off story, I’m thanking my facebook friends: Terrie Adams, Betty Glsgow Hanawa, Polly Nichols Cassady, Kathleen Therese. For the copy edits, the wonderful Rose Beetem of Final Eyes.
Cast of Characters
Giniana Filix: FirstLevel Healer, on-site staff Healer for FirstFamily GrandLord T’Spindle, daughter of feckless actors.
* * *
Thrisca Filix: the FamCat Giniana inherited from her father, who got her from his father.
* * *
Melis Filix: Thrisca’s FamKitten.
* * *
Klay Saint (St.) Johnswort (Johns): MasterLevel Actor with the lead in the play Firewalker. He is the last of an old merchant family, and was raised by his grandmother on his father’s side (FatherDam), and his mother in near poverty. Secondary character in Heart Journey.
* * *
The Actors & Theater Folk:
* * *
Amberose: Genius playwright whose plays can make actors’ careers, she is reclusive and difficult.
* * *
Cerasus (Raz) Cherry: MasterLevel actor, friendly rival to Johns. Hero of Heart Journey. Secondary character in Heart Fate and Heart Change.
* * *
Mas Filix: Giniana’s father, famous MasterLevel actor who left Druida City to pursue his career on the continent of Chinju.
* * *
Ovata Forsythia: MasterLevel actor, she is the Theatrical Guild representative and President of the Thespian Club.
* * *
Lily Fescue: Leading lady in the mystery Raz Cherry is starring in. Lily was the only person to get the original script.
* * *
Ellis Gardenia: Character actor, becoming a counselor.
* * *
Austro Gentian: Amberose’s second agent.
* * *
Chatt Geyer: Johns’s agent
* * *
Trillia Juniper: An actor from an acting Family, she's been in the business all of her life, another rising star, working in Gael City.
* * *
T'Spindle: FirstFamily GrandLord who owns the theater, The Evening Primrose, and the estate where the opening party takes place. A man with his finger in many pies, employer to Giniana Filix.
* * *
Blakely Wattle, Amberose’s original agent.
* * *
Other Characters:
* * *
GreatLady Danith Mallow D'Ash: HeartMate of T'Ash, Danith is an Animal Healer and the person who usually matches intelligent animal companions (Fams) with people. (HeartMate).
* * *
GreatLord Rand T'Ash: Jeweler/blacksmith, (HeartMate).
* * *
GraceLord Majus T’Daisy: Journalist, newspaper publisher, new father, employer of Giniana Filix for night shifts.
* * *
Morifa Daisy: Socialite, ex-lover of Raz Cherry, sister to T’Daisy.
* * *
Helena D'Elecampane (Del): She is a master cartographer and has charted the western part of two continents. Del is often on the road and in the field, HeartMate to Raz Cherry. (Heart Journey).
* * *
Shunuk Elecampane: FamFox to Del (Heart Journey).
* * *
Marti Samphire: Boy neighbor of St. Johnswort, botanical talent.
* * *
Dufleur D’Thyme-D’Willow: FirstFamily GreatLady, her Flair is manipulating time, and she provides Time Healing procedures quarterly (Heart Dance).
* * *
Palli Willow: Assistant to D’Willow.
Timeline Note
Script of the Heart is out of chronological order in the Celta HeartMate series. This story takes place during the events of Heart Journey, book 9 in the series.
Chapter 1
GrandLord T'Spindle's Estate, Druida City, 407 Years After Colonization, Late Summer, Night
Klay Saint Johnswort—Johns—surveyed the large ballroom of white marble and chandeliers dripping with cut crystal. A place of work, not pleasure. Every actor there scrabbling for influence. Everyone self-aware and competing each minute of the gathering. Including himself.
T'Spindle, Johns's host and the owner of the Primrose Theater, stood listening to a beaming and fast-talking agent—something shady about that guy.
Raz Cherry, Johns's friendly rival, walked up and said, "Good thing brooding looks good on you."
Johns grunted, tipped his glass of springreen wine in salute. "Congratulations on the one hundred twentieth performance of your play."
Raz appeared humbled. "Thank you." He cleared his throat, pitched his voice low. "Have you heard the rumors that Firewalker might be closing down?"
"Yeah." Johns had. The play that he starred in. He kept his expression impassive, made sure the twinge of envy that Raz's play se
emed to be continuing indefinitely didn't show either. On the other hand, if Raz remained tied up, he wouldn't be competing with Johns if his run ended in a couple of weeks.
Johns drank some springreen wine from a delicate flute. Not really part of his image as a tough alpha hero, but he probably wouldn't be able to buy this vintage for another half decade, even if his career took off.
Right now Johns would fight with all he had to keep his career from falling into even the briefest hiatus. He needed continuous work to climb to the top.
Suppressing all emotion from his visage, Johns said, "I also heard the rumor there's a new play by Amberose circulating the producers. First time in a decade. Big deal." It could be. And his big break.
Raz paused in his own drinking. "Yes, Amberose's agent spoke with me. I saw you giving the slimy guy your best rockface imitation." Raz grimaced. "I pushed him a little too hard for information about the play, and I'm sorry I did that because he dried up." Another slight pause—for emphasis as opposed to indecision, Johns thought. "The leading lady in my show got a script. I saw pages of it yesterday."
A thrill zipped through Johns, he lowered his eyelids even more. "Not just rumor, then. Real deal."
"I believe so. We had thefts at the Primrose Theater yesterday. I think some of the script pages were stolen."
Johns grunted again. "Don't see an eccentric playwright like Amberose being happy about having some of her work stolen. Far as I know, she always wants to keep a script under wraps until the production is funded and the actors cast. With miscellaneous pages floating around in the public, I think she'll try and yank the script back from her agent. Get the story back under her control." The brief hope of landing a job in that play anytime soon faded. It would take too long to get up and running.
Raz's eyes, bluer than John's own gray-shaded blue, met his. "Try is the word. Try to get the script back." Raz angled slightly, and Johns shifted to follow his gaze to see the agent who'd approached them.
After another sip of excellent wine, Johns shook his head. "She didn't pick a good representative. He won't obey any orders to gather all the copies and send 'em back to Amberose. He's more interested in his commission to get the play financed than what she wants. Bet the deal will go underground." Slowing the production even more.
Raz shrugged. "Probably."
Of course the delay in the staging wouldn't matter to Raz. He had a solid current job.
Johns caught himself clenching his jaw and loosened it.
"Well, I'll be off," Raz waved a hand. "Leave the audience wanting more." He placed his wineglass on a nearby table, scanned the room and gathered attention. Then he gave a bow of courteous leave-taking, received applause, and left through an open door to the terrace at the side of the house.
Johns eyed the man. He moved well, striding with more of a glide whereas Johns preferred a prowl ... Raz was an actor with a smoother manner and build than Johns himself, but Johns thought he had an edge on the alpha-type.
He wondered what kind of hero Amberose had written.
Glancing at the people engaged in conversations—theatrical wheeling and dealing in a loud, stifling, and overly perfumed room—he decided to take a break. Get some air before more networking. He moved toward the terrace.
Shouts! Glider alarms! Sounds of fighting.
Johns shot onto the terrace. Heard Raz's vehicle’s alarm pronounce, "My virtue is threatened." Saw Raz struggling with a large man. Another thief sat in the glider, lit by the inner light, searching the vehicle.
"Hey!" Johns yelled in a voice that would reach the ballroom, alert others. He dropped the three meters from terrace to parking field, rushed toward Raz.
Raz fought better than Johns had anticipated, but bled from a graze on his temple.
"Get him and hold him," the bigger man panted at the smaller one in the glider. "Play actor too damn much trouble. Who'da thought?"
A growl erupted from Johns. "Have a problem with actors?" He grabbed the big guy from the back and threw him aside. The man turned and grappled with him. Johns trained in fighting, had moves. Adrenaline kicked in, surging through him. He hit the man on the jaw, saw his head snap back. The guy swept a leg aimed at Johns's crotch. He dodged.
Then the guy angled back to Raz.
"I'm getting out of here!" cried the smaller man in a higher voice.
Tearing from Johns's grip and leaving some of his shirt in Johns's hands, the big guy attacked Raz. They exchanged blows. Johns lunged toward the struggle and landed a hit on the guy just as the smaller man popped from the car and flung himself on them.
They all went down, Raz's elbow jerked into Johns's solar plexus and his breath whoofed out of him, leaving no air.
"Gotcha!" The smaller man grabbed the larger and they teleported away.
Thankfully, Raz rolled off Johns. Through slightly bleary eyes, Johns could see Raz rub his cheek. It swelled, nearly blocking his eye. Raz groaned.
Snatching short breaths of air, Johns let them out along with frustration that his prey escaped. "Sorry, too late." As he spoke, something seemed to rip loose. Fligger. He'd broken a rib in the fight. He grunted out a pained breath.
"You did fine," Raz told him.
"Gotta take care of your friends," Johns mumbled, though he didn't know that anyone heard him.
Footsteps and voices came closer. Several other glider alarms that had been shrieking fell silent.
The first person to tower over them was Cratag Maytree T'Marigold, even taller and broader than Johns. Unlike Johns and the hero he currently played, this guy was the real thing, a fighter and a bodyguard.
Extending a hand to each of them, Cratag hauled them to their feet, then said, "Want to quiet that glider alarm?" His hand rested on his blazer hilt as he scanned the trees.
"Alarm stop, Cherry," Raz said.
Johns stared. The man had named his vehicle. Johns shook his head, then pressed his hand against his ribs, endured the sickening wash of pain. Looking at Cratag, he growled, "The thieves got away. Teleported."
"I'll check the grounds anyway." Cratag jerked a nod, strode into the small parking area for the rare gliders.
The curious party-goers hanging back drew up to crowd around Johns and Raz.
A quiet woman's sob came. "Oh, my poor glider. My poor baby, I didn't shield you and look what happened, your jeweled timer, stolen!"
"This is a bad thing," T'Spindle, their host, said from the bottom of the terrace stairs. People cleared the way for him. "Healer needed here!" he shouted, making both Johns and Raz wince.
"Arriving from my cottage to the ballroom teleportation pad transnow!" boomed a woman's voice, amplified by the intelligent Residence itself. The Spindles must have a staff Healer.
"This is a very bad thing," GrandLord T'Spindle repeated. His gaze went flinty, reminding Johns that the rotund man belonged to the FirstFamilies. A lord accustomed to playing dangerous politics. Johns's anger eased at the thought that the vandals had made a very powerful enemy.
T'Spindle displayed an easygoing but stubborn personality. He wouldn't rest until the men who'd dared to invade his property and distress his guests were caught and punished. No doubt he'd also make sure the city guards assigned to this case were equally stubborn about solving the crimes.
Lord and Lady knew the GrandLord had a whole lot more power and influence than Johns. He could leave the villain catching to the noble and guards.
Yes, those intruders would regret this night.
Cratag returned. "Hoodlums are definitely gone, but vandalized several gliders. We'll need a list of the thefts and damage." He gestured to Raz's Cherry. "This one's the worst."
"I have contacted the city guards," T'Spindle said. "They are sending a liaison to speak with those affected." He bit off each word.
At that moment a lithe and graceful young woman in Healer green and holding a medical bag ran toward them. She stopped before the GrandLord. "GrandLady D'Spindle said not to teleport down here since the danger of accident
would be great. Your lady stated no one was injured enough to be 'ported to a HealingHall and told me that I could handle all wounds."
"Thank you, Giniana," said T'Spindle. He snapped his fingers and all the lights in the Residence flashed on. So did minor lightspells circling the terrace like suns. Some shone over the side grassyard designated as a parking area for those who had gliders. Three short rows.
Hands on hips, Cratag studied Johns with narrowed eyes, snorted. "You did well enough in the fight, I guess."
Pivoting to Raz he stated, "Looks to me like you need more than stage fighting instruction. You can come to me."
"I don't think—" Raz began, then stopped to wipe away blood from his lip that split when he spoke.