He put down the scry table and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorjamb. "Merry meet."
She met his gaze. He looked fully as stubborn as she was. And she wanted him gone. "Merry part," she muttered.
His attractive smile flashed over his face. "And merry meet again." He lifted the table with one hand and inclined his head. "Soon."
T'Ash strode along, then slowed. The many things he had to do and the lack of time pressed upon him. He couldn't afford to expend any extra energy, even energy given by the anger flowing through his veins.
He wasn't nearly as nonchalant as he'd acted. And he'd concealed the deep hurt and banked ire that had speared through him at her words.
Sucking in a breath of fresh sun-warmed afternoon air, he practiced calming exercises. Exercises he hadn't had to employ in years.
She wanted a fight. He wouldn't have expected that she'd be one to fight. But she was strong, and determined, and her Flair was powerful. He smiled grimly. It would be a good fight.
A testing of wills. He usually won fights.
He concentrated on using his muscles as he walked. And though he'd lost a few individual fights, he had won several personal wars; vengeance, acceptance by the twenty-four other FirstFamilies, reestablishing his GreatHouse, building his shop and reputation, honing his Flair.
He wondered if she had fought as much as he, but doubted it. She looked as if she still thought there were rules to fighting.
She'd probably faced a few battles, what with being a female only as high as his shoulder and an orphan without Family. But she wasn't in his class.
Class. The word hurt as much as being called a Downwind scruff. And he knew class would be an element in this conflict with Danith—his rank and wealth. She'd made that clear.
Being elevated as a new Noble would be rough for her. Jumping from middle class past GraceHouse class and up to GrandHouse class was rare. GrandHouses were usually at least three centuries old, except for the twelve highest GrandHouses that were included in the FirstFamilies, descendants of the founding colonists.
GrandHouse and FirstFamily society would expect her to act in a certain manner. When she married him, his rank as a FirstFamily GreatLord would bring her to the highest station of the Noble class. If she lacked the proper attitude, being accepted as a HeartMate by the Nobles would be a problem. Ah, well, he would stand with her.
But she was right. After she married him, she would never have the anonymity or the simple life she said she wanted.
He had obligations to his heritage, to his descendants, the twenty-five FirstFamilies, and to civilizing Celta itself. All Heads of households and their spouses were expected to participate in the Great Rituals, and Danith would be no exception. T'Ash frowned. Noble responsibilities would be one aspect of this tough battle with her.
The FirstFamilies interest in Danith as his wife would go beyond attention into greed. T'Ash lengthened his stride. Energy and power were always needed by the ruling class to shape the events of Celta. As his wife, titled GreatLady D'Ash, Danith's simple celebrations would be a thing of the past. With her strong Flair and affinity to animals, she would be ordered to the Rituals and expected at the Council meetings. She wouldn't like that.
Another facet of the fight to win her would be the nature of his own character. He knew he was nothing like the easygoing gallant who squired her now. She knew it, too. T'Ash had an introverted personality, tending toward brooding darkness. It was nothing he could completely reshape.
He could try to lighten his soul, and since Danith had entered his life, he'd felt nearly giddy with hopeful delight. He could work with that. Just being near her made him less gloomy, if no less complex. But she was a complex creature herself.
He frowned. The yearning for Family radiated from her—his greatest challenge in this rough courtship. He felt a touch of foreboding down his spine and hoped that this would not be his downfall. He would give her Zanth and promise her children. He could provide a few close friends with the Holly Family, but, in general, the FirstFamilies rarely were friends—more often allies or enemies.
He had some advantages. She was soft and generous. She would not fight with the ruthlessness that he would.
And he'd planted the seeds of passionate desire in her imagination of them together as lovers. A woman as creative as she would return to that idea again and again. It would work on her. As the necklace ensconced in her house would work on her.
He had destiny on his side. He even had the law. His mood cheered. He would win, as always.
Danith sat on the sofa, warily watching Zanthoxyl. His head bobbed in and out of the cloth bag of gifts that he'd fetched back from the T'Ash estate, all the gifts she'd returned to T'Ash.
Zanthoxyl would look around the mainspace, or jog into the kitchen, and spot an acceptable place for an offering. Then he'd push his head in the bag and delicately pull a piece of jewelry out with his teeth. He'd position the item exactly, stand back to check it in its new home, grin at her, and repeat the whole procedure.
She sighed. Chains and beads draped over tables and around the few figurines she owned. Glittering necklaces, collars, and a bracelet or two were arranged in complicated patterns pleasing to the Fam. The whole place looked like a museum displaying exquisite, priceless jewelry. Further, a faint but palpable ripple of Flair from T'Ash permeated her house, powerful and inherently elegant. Only Pansy appeared tacky. She still wore her own portion of the jewels, including earclip.
The other earclip Zanthoxyl had managed to attach to his collar.
Danith reached over with her finger and petted the three-centimeter square of undecorated Pansy. Pansy purred.
Danith scratched Pansy under her chin and stared deeply into dark yellow eyes. "You really would prefer to be called 'Princess?' "
Her cat chirruped loudly and gave her a sweet smile.
Danith shook her head in disbelief. "Princess. That is so—trite. It has no charm. You're really sure?"
Pansy dropped her head and emitted a small mew.
Danith signed and rubbed her cat's head. "Very well, Princess it will be." She grimaced. "But it might take me some time to get accustomed to it."
Pansy's—Princess's—purr increased. With a soft clinking, she rolled on her back and curled her paws, so Danith could pet her soft light gray stomach fur crisscrossed by beads.
DONE!
Danith heard the word, with a rush and a clap around it. She looked up to see Zanthoxyl sitting proudly with his tail curled around his paws.
"Very nice, Zanthoxyl," she said politely.
ZANTH. ZANTH. ZANTH! NOT ZANTHOXYL.
She pressed her hands against the stabbing pain in her head. "Zanth. I hear you. I think." Beyond her new, fearsome headache, she didn't want to explore the consequences of this development.
HARD TO TALK.
"Yes." She clamped her hands to her head and rocked back and forth in pain.
WILL GET BETTER WHEN YOU MATE WITH MY FAMMAN.
Danith moaned.
She felt a rough tongue between her ankle and her weaves. Opening her eyes, she saw Zanthoxyl—Zanth—trying to copy Princess's sweet smile, and it bordered on frightening.
She rose and went to the bathroom for a feverfew hurtease. As she pulled out a small soluble vial and swallowed it, she noticed a line of little precious stones carved in the shape of animals. There was a whimsical pink-quartz pig, a graceful purplebird with wings outstretched ready to fly, even a green malachite cricket. She wanted to stroke them.
Instead she mumbled a swear word. Master and Fam, they were determined to get her.
T'Ash once again yanked on the T'Ivy Residence bellpull. He had hoped to avoid this last-ditch effort, hoped that Danith would come to him on her own. Now he would have to tacitly admit that his HeartMate had once more rejected him.
Hurt and anger resurged. The anger he could acknowledge. His HeartMate continually ran away. How could she not know that he would be the best thing in her life? He mum
bled curses under his breath.
When the haughty T'Ivy butler appeared by the gates with raised eyebrows, T'Ash scowled at him. The man backed up a couple of steps and T'Ash entered, pleased that he could still intimidate someone. He smiled at the notion. The butler backed up farther and cleared his throat. "GreatLord?"
"T'Ash to see D'lvy. She is expecting me."
"Ahem. I believe so, but not for a few days—"
"Now. My request is for now. If she cannot provide the required service, I will be glad to inform the FirstFamilies Council clerk of the debt."
The man blanched, drew himself to his full height, straightened his cuffs, which showed him a distant relative of the GreatHouse Ivy. "We have never had a black mark in our History Ledgers. Come. I will show you her sunroom. You may wait for her there."
T'Ash marched after the man, down the glider path to the estate, and around to a glassed-in side entrance. In the sun-room he glanced around. He admired it, but not as much as he would have if he'd not seen Danith's home. This room was done in cool blues, not the warm colors Danith preferred, that he, himself, now knew he favored.
Short moments later a young woman swept into the room. She was dressed in a long golden gown shot with silver and had a many-braided hairstyle that must have taken hours.
"You are D'lvy?" T'Ash asked.
She looked down her nose at his rudeness. "I am."
He stared at her, examining her up and down. Another piece of discourtesy, he was aware, but something in her very presence irritated him. "HeartMate, T'Ivy said."
She smiled a small, smug smile. "True," she said it with the tiniest hint of scorn. And T'Ash knew she'd heard all about his Downwind upbringing, his vengeance stalk, his current quest, and she didn't think he deserved the honor of a potion from her lily-white hands.
He had run into this opinion before. And she was stupid to think that a son of a FirstFamily, a GreatLord, would not sense her disdain. His Danith would not have made that mistake.
"I do not believe I have seen you at the FirstFamilies Rituals," he said softly, reminding her of his status.
She paled, now looked at him as if she really saw him for the first time, and not some image she had built in her mind. She bowed her head. T'Ash thought it hid a scheming face. She would not be a pleasant companion, this one. Not for him. He pitied T'Ivy and wondered at the match. He'd liked T'Ivy.
"I do not often attend," she said.
Now T'Ash smiled. Her power must be sufficient for the D'Ivy duties but not strong enough to hold her own during those Great Rituals that demanded it.
"What birth House?"
She raised her head. "Is this necessary?"
"You've had the ring I wore since a child for a day and a half, ample time to study me. You should know my power. Do you wish to provide me with an object for telemetry so I can judge your skills? That second-rate jade pendant you wear should be acceptable." He held out his hand, palm up.
Her very white skin flushed. "GraceHouse Aloe."
A solid Healing House, they also used their Flair with plants. He inclined his head. "Good. Let us proceed. You understand that T'Ivy swore to keep the matter confidential." He didn't doubt T'Ivy's honor, but he was not sure of hers.
"I understand." The contempt was back in her voice, along with anger. "I was not expecting you so soon. Further, you do not look as though you could sustain a long, difficult Passage. I would be derelict in my duty if I provided you with the herbs to induce Passage." She smiled, too, meanly.
T'Ash narrowed his eyes. "Then you refuse service and concede a debt from the House of T'Ivy to the House of T'Ash."
"No."
"Then what do you propose?"
She stood simmering a moment. "An infusion for a short Passage."
T'Ash considered how long it would take him to create the earrings. He knew the pattern, knew his lady, had only to release his emotions. "How long?"
"Two hours."
It would be long enough to shape them, but not to infuse them with everything he wanted, needed. "Too short."
Her mouth set mulishly. "Very well, half a night."
"Done. But since your service is less, so is mine. My only service will be to choose and obtain a sky-crystal as a Testing Tool for the T'Ivy GreatHouse. My trip expenses to Gael City will be paid by T'Ivy. You will provide a Family member to accompany me to witness my honorable and best service, his or her trip expenses to be paid by T'Ivy. That is my entire recompense for your Passage herbs. If T'Ivy wishes shaping of the current sky-crystal into pieces, or his Testing Tools realigned, have him make an appointment with me to negotiate further. Agreed?"
She blinked, as if she had never bargained a transaction before. He wondered how pampered she had been, was. He shrugged. It was a fair deal.
She looked around.
He set his hands on his hips. "I wait."
"Agreed."
He nodded. "Done. When will the herbs be ready?"
Again she blinked. "Four septhours."
"Done. I will send Holm Holly, Heir of the Hollys, as witness to your honorable and best service. He will bring the vial to me, along with my ring. Four septhours."
He strode from the room, then down the path away from the Residence. He took a deep breath once outside the gates. The air seemed purer, less stifling.
As soon as he got home, he called a Healer to go to Danith. Then T'Ash vized Holm Holly.
"Here. T'Ash!" Holm scowled. "You've been fighting, and didn't let me in on the fun?"
T'Ash lifted a shoulder. "A mere scuffle, is all. With Null Elder."
Holly's frown deepened. "You took care of him."
T'Ash looked at his slightly scraped knuckles. "Yes. The man returned the HeartGift, but also informed Danith she was my HeartMate. That makes it difficult."
Holly whistled through his teeth. "I'd say so, but if you didn't tell her yourself… I'd guess your rights would be upheld."
T'Ash grinned. "So I thought. I've called Winterberry and told him of the situation. He'll substantiate my word. Danith isn't pleased."
"You push too hard sometimes, T'Ash."
T'Ash flexed his hands. "Not hard enough at the Null."
"Does that mean I have permission to beat on him a little?"
"He didn't look as if he learned his lesson. Danith cut the fight short."
Holly sighed deeply. "Females."
"Yes. Speaking of which, D'Ivy has promised herbs to stimulate another Passage in four septhours. Would you act as my witness-agent in this?"
"I'm not sure this is wise—"
"Please. Tinne's main gauche will have finished steeping in Flair by then. I have left space for a Family blessing at the end of the spell. Would you care to say it?"
"You have a way with bribes, as usual. I'll collect the potion from D'Ivy and come there." Holly ended the call.
T'Ash went upstairs to his bedroom to clean up. He compared it to the brief glance he had of Danith's bedroom. Though his wasn't nearly as homey, it was somewhat more comfortable and had a bit more character than the rest of the rooms in the Residence. Layered Chinju rugs provided texture and color. A gleaming framed bedsponge sported a boldly patterned cover. The outer wall curved around the length of the room, bowing outward. T'Ash liked the sensual curves, and knew they'd please Danith. The wall contained a large round window with two long lozenge-shaped windows on each side of it. The round window was stained and sectioned forceglass delineating the World Tree, ancient symbol of the GreatHouse T'Ash. And in the center of the window, where the tree trunk split into boughs, was a huge rough-cut and polished rose quartz crystal the size of his head.
T'Ash used the crystal as a scry for his grounds and his shop. He smiled with pleasure now. Danith would approve.
When he went to shower, he stared at himself in the mirror and winced. No wonder D'Ivy was so contemptuous, and Holm a trifle envious. T'Ash's hair was tangled, his chest bare, and the dusky hue of his jaw showed the beginning purpling of a bruise. But
Danith had not said a word.
DINNERTIME! Zanth's word projected over the sound of the waterfall. T'Ash turned the shower off and stepped from the small room into the steamy bathroom.
Zanth sat on the far side of the open door, as far from water droplets as he could get. It's Midweekend. Me get furra on Midweekend. With bones.
"That's right." He'd started the tradition as an inducement to keep Zanth from prowling all night when T'Ash had first finished his Residence. The reward had only worked for a few months.
Crunch. Crunch. Yum.
"How are Danith and Princess?"
FamWoman ag-gra-vated. Me made many beau-ti-ful designs with jewelry. Still not calm. Princess happy.
"I see."
FamWoman feeds Cats in morning. Me here now.
"So you're eating at two places, hmmm? Are you sure you aren't getting a nip or two at the T'Spindle Residence where you have a queen?"
Zanth's gaze slid away from T'Ash's. He laughed.
Furra best. Life is good.
"Very well. Let's go eat."
After dinner T'Ash finished work on the main gauche and its scabbard and set it in his ResidenceDen. Power glowed from it, a piece that looked both beautiful and deadly. He nodded with satisfaction. For once, the item had come close to his perfectly imagined design.
T'Ash descended to the HouseHeart to prepare it for his Passage later. He stood outside the door and braced himself. The inner sanctuary always affected him—as it was meant to. Sometimes it excited, sometimes it soothed, sometimes he even felt an awful greatness hovered near.
It was the only place in all of Celta where he actually felt connected with his ancestors, those who had lived and fought for GreatHouse T'Ash before him. And it was where he was most aware of his duties and responsibilities to T'Ash traditions and his own descendants.
He shivered and placed both palms against the rough wood facing of the meter-thick stone door.
Here were the strongest spellshields, ancient and intricate, with a final layer cast by himself over the years. The spells had protected the chamber during the explosion and the fire. T'Ash had rebuilt around it, slightly changing the alignment of his new Residence to hide it even further.
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