Gasping, she yanked her arm away, strove to see in the darkness, tried to sit up, and pain shot through her from her leg. Broken, newly set, and slightly Healed. Pushing up on her elbows, she panted the order,
“Light-spell!”
But when it came on, she saw only the closing door.
“Residence, who was in my room?”
The house didn’t answer, so she knew someone with more status had ordered it to be silent. Might have even ordered its scrystones and listening off. Pure crap, the way she was treated.
She deserved more respect for all the Flair she sent to the Residence and the work she did for the Family. And that was a new thought. Her emotions had turned the corner from repudiating the restrictions the Family put on her and yearning for freedom. Now she felt irritation at the lack of respect, more of a self-worth issue. She knew why: because of her association with Draeg. Just his manner when they discussed the Family and the Residence, what she did for them and the animals, concepts that remained unspoken between them, but that she’d felt.
A creak came from outside her door. Flinging up a hand, she focused on her Flair, about halfway recharged through sleep, and a stingy sharing of power that had been returned to her in the form of Healing.
In no mood to put up with her Family’s passive aggression, she flung off the covers and teleported away—to the HouseHeart—and hung suspended in air a few centimeters above the thick cushiony grass in the warm and comforting air before settling gently on her good side.
Sweat had coated her body at the effort. Or maybe it was from the flush of anger. Breathlessly, she ordered, “Maximum privacy for Healing and meditation, HouseHeart, please.” She bit her lip, waiting to see if it would grant her that.
“You are injured!” the female voice stated, sounding a little shocked.
“Yes. I fell against hard stones.” Her words weren’t quite a lie. She wouldn’t lie to this entity, this Yew persona, who’d treated her better than anyone else in the Residence. Though Lori knew this core of the Yew Residence wouldn’t go against the main, the strong, masculine character based on Lori’s MotherSire.
“Very well, I accept that you should have full privacy. You are allowed two fully private sessions a month.”
Lori hadn’t known that, but if the Residence kept track of the amount of privacy time and told the Family, better to use it as sparingly as she had.
Clicking of small pebbles simulated a human tongue’s tsk. Blinking, Lori lifted onto her elbow to see if she could pinpoint the sound. The only pebbles she knew of coated the trough bottom of the low fountain running along the entire circular rock wall of the chamber.
“Lie back down, D’Yew, so I can Heal your leg fully.”
So Lori rolled to her back and let the scent of grass and wildflowers come to her, closing her eyes against the sunlike spellglobe that flickered on at the top of the rounded dome of the ceiling. The HouseHeart always lived in summer—at least when Lori came to it. How it handled its plants for the seasons, the fading of autumn, the hibernation of winter, the regrowth of spring, she didn’t know.
But here and now she was safe. Heat radiated around her, moved from the ground under her leg into her body, as if every blade of grass released a droplet of Flair from the top to wash her free of pain, fill her with Healing energy. Her lungs compressed in an involuntary sigh.
“Sleep,” crooned the HouseHeart, and she did.
* * *
Draeg paced his quarters, and the horses’ and stridebeasts’ anxiety impinged on his thoughts. They, like he, had felt the blow to Loridana. And it had been a blow, not a fall. All the animals had shrieked in his mind, even his raven, and Draeg himself had fallen against the animal pen he’d finished erecting. He’d recognized the pain of a broken leg, had taken a few seconds to send calm to the beasts, assure them that Loridana would be fine, before teleporting to the place her mind had projected.
After he’d set her leg, he’d returned to the animals and tried to soothe them. He’d done a pretty good job, focused on them and their emotions rather than on himself—until he’d left the beasts for his own rooms. Then he couldn’t settle.
What the fligger had happened?
And why wasn’t he with Loridana, helping her? Where he needed to be.
Because the Yew Family and Residence wouldn’t let him stay with her, didn’t recognize their link of friendship.
So he paced.
A tapping came at the window glass, and he saw the black shape of his bird. With a gesture he thinned the window to air, watched with brooding gaze as his new Fam zoomed into the room, circled, and perched on the top of a wooden dining chair. Since the gouges Corax left with his claws just showed newer than the rest of the scratches on the battered piece of furniture, Draeg said nothing.
But he stared into the bird’s dark eyes. “What happened?”
Corax clicked his beak. I was not watching.
“I thought you were going to,” Draeg said through clenched teeth.
I followed them all night, but they went to a place with many shinys. And I saw some scattered shinys on the street. Shinys that humans like, too. He clicked his beak. I found them. I took some. He lifted his wings, opened his beak, and spit out a jewel. It was certainly shiny, especially from Corax’s spit. Draeg raised his brows. The diamond appeared as if it had been set in a necklace.
Corax cawed. For YOU. Draeg got the impression the raven felt a little guilty for not watching Loridana and Baccat as he and Draeg had agreed. Woman and cat were on the street that leads to these big lands. Walking back here. The raven lifted one foot, set it down, raised the other, like a person’s nervous shifting. I did not see the kind woman hurt.
Reaching out with his forefinger, Draeg stroked his Fam’s head. I understand. Every being had certain natural urges difficult to deny. Good to know Corax would focus on shiny items.
That left one last informant. Draeg grunted. Baccat!
The Fam didn’t answer, but Draeg knew the cat remained in his shed, a place Draeg had not visited before. Since the animals continued to be affected by his emotions, he took the stairs down and stepped back into the night. Corax joined him.
Draeg’s breath frosted white in the air. With a grumbled couplet, he initiated a weathershield spell. Corax alit on his shoulder, nudged against Draeg’s ear. Warm FamMan. Thanks. And Draeg understood that the raven thanked him for his understanding, too, though he had to squelch his disappointment in his Fam hard, to hide it from the bird.
“‘Welcome, Corax.” He left the stableyard and tromped on the path leading toward the series of gardens behind the Residence. Would the cat ignore him if he showed up?
Easily following the hook he’d placed in the cat’s aura—that he should have checked on more often this evening, dammit!—he walked through the gardens prepared for growing. Not many early spring flowers since the Yews kept their estate self-sufficient and used their land and Flair efficiently.
He came to a walled garden with a vividly blue door and smiled. It seemed to be a symbol of Loridana’s hope—that she’d soon come into her own as FirstFamily GrandLady D’Yew.
From his experience with the powerful Flair of the old FirstFamilies, and his observation of how much she already contributed to her estate, this very fine estate, no one in her Family would be able to deny her. Her particular bloodline straight from the original colonists was as strong as Draeg’s own adoptive father’s. Lord and Lady knew that a natural son of Straif T’Blackthorn would have twice or maybe triple the strength of Flair that Draeg and his brothers had. They came from a diluted offshoot of that Family line.
The Flaired lock on the door stymied him a moment, so wrapped up in Loridana’s Flair. But with a little figuring out, he got through it. Another indication that a bond had begun to form between the woman and himself. That night Draeg had sensed a few of her emotions: love for her Fam, determination, nothing of true fear. Thanks to his hook in Baccat’s aura, he knew they’d stayed on the well-lit m
ain streets of Druida, no alleys this time.
“So what the fligger happened?” he asked as he yanked open another door, the one to Baccat’s garden shed.
A small lightglobe illuminated, and the cat, lying on an overstuffed golden velvet pillow, blinked at him and hissed, his gaze going to Corax first. Bird, My instincts and My ravenous stomach signal that you would taste good. I suggest you stay outside My home, into which you were NOT invited.
Corax clicked his beak and made a disgusted noise. I beat you in a fight, CAT.
The feline sniffed. Unlikely. His whiskers quivered and his tongue came out and gave his muzzle a lingering swipe.
I will wait outside. On the scarecrow.
Draeg touched his Fam’s feathers and set a small weathershield around the bird.
Thank you. You are a good FamMan, Corax said, flying away to settle on the head of a stuffed mannequin that appeared to be dressed in Loridana’s old clothes. Older than the ones she usually wore. Looked like an insult to both her and her Fam—showing that the person who set the thing up didn’t believe Baccat would earn his keep by keeping vermin from the garden.
I am getting a collar from My FamWoman, Baccat gloated with one last comment.
Cats demand such things, Corax shot back.
Baccat snapped at Draeg, Close the door!
Draeg stepped into the small, luxurious space and did. The light-spell brightened. “Stop playing the weak tom. I ask again, what the fligger happened to Loridana tonight?”
Ignorant man. The cat’s side went up and down. Surely you must realize that I am involved in helping my My FamWoman Heal!
“Sorry, but I need to know what occurred tonight in the city.”
Two gliders were racing; one of the speeding vehicles hit us.
“What! That’s not an accident. Not at that time of night.”
Baccat rolled over on his side and lifted a weak paw. I cannot discuss the incident with you at the present moment.
“Too bad, I insist.”
The FamCat’s eyes glared. I do not accept your insistence. GrandSir Draeg Betony-Blackthorn. He rose slowly to his paws, arched, and ruffled his fur. I do not accept this psi-object you snared in My aura. With a huge shake, Draeg’s hook went flying. The minute it left the cat’s aura, it vanished.
Draeg’s hands fisted, but he’d get Corax to watch better, bribe the bird with tastier and more food. He’d also develop a stronger bond with Loridana so he could sense it.
“The glider hit wasn’t an accident,” he said. “Who wants to hurt Loridana?”
Lifting his upper muzzle to show pointy teeth, Baccat said, Look to your allies, FirstFamily Son. They are prejudiced against My FamWoman.
“No one on my side would do that!” He took a stride forward. Baccat hissed.
So, we have “sides” in this matter, as I hypothesized, Baccat sneered mentally. You postulate that your “side” is so pure they would not wish to scare or harm Loridana?
“Yes.” Draeg met the cat’s hard stare. “They wouldn’t hurt her.”
You seem assured of that. I am not. Baccat angled his head away in an arrogant move. However, if it is not your side, then look to the other Yews’ allies. It would be to their benefit to have someone other than Loridana as the head of the Yew household.
“Which Yews? And which allies?” Draeg demanded.
Go away. I will speak with you no more. The cat lowered his eyelids.
Seventeen
Gritting his teeth at the sudden fury sweeping through him, Draeg stalked out of the garden shed. After two strides he realized how nearly out of control he was and stopped to shake out his limbs, settle into his balance, then suck in and puff out a few calming breaths. Just that had him returning to normal, especially since he’d continued to meditate a few minutes every day, so he had a recent basis for clearing his emotions.
Odd, though, how angry he’d gotten at the thought that Loridana had been targeted and deliberately hurt. Killing hot. And such a lapse of control shook him. In his world, his social strata, a man was measured by his control.
He found Corax sitting on the scarecrow’s head, pulling a piece of straw from a rip in the top of the noggin that looked new. The dummy’s hat lay on the ground.
Since Draeg figured Loridana would have to repair it, he snapped, “Stop that, Corax!”
Something shiny inside! Corax flung out a huge hunk of straw, dipped his long beak all the way into the head, and rustled around, pushing inside the face of the mannequin in a way that made Draeg a little queasy. The bird’s chirrup sounded muffled before he pulled out a thin broken chain that looked like brass. Of little value. Some links really shone, enough of the . . . bracelet . . . that it attracted Corax’s attention.
Mine! the raven crowed, great pleasure wafting to Draeg through their strengthening bond.
“Good enough,” Draeg muttered, picking up the straw and the hat, jamming it back into the head. He sent his senses out into the night. The twins had returned home and, he thought, had retired to their . . . suites. If their areas were side by side, they had significant space for themselves. Better than the bedroom, small sitting room, and tiny waterfall room Loridana D’Yew had. And the rooms of the twins were on the third floor of the Residence with views of the river.
No, didn’t feel like anyone watched Draeg, so he ran a finger across the open seam, melding it shut—unevenly—then stuck the battered hat back on the scarecrow’s head.
MY FamWoman is giving me a ruby jeweled collar, came the thought from Baccat, still inside the shed.
Corax screeched, flew to the eaves of the shed, and banged on the window with his beak. You rude to MY FamMan. NOT talking to you.
If only that were a true statement, Baccat sneered mentally.
NOT listening to you, neither! You shut up!
“Come along, Corax, let’s check out the gliders’ garage.” He lifted his upper arm to attract his Fam.
Will join you in minutes. Must put my shiny in cache. Corax flew away in the direction of the stables.
Baccat’s voice sounded in Draeg’s head once more. You will not find the two gliders who drove at us in that garage. Yep, still sounded arrogant.
No? Draeg questioned.
No. They were modern, not like the antique gliders in the Yew garage. Only one of those vehicles has been renovated, but it remains an old model.
That gave Draeg an opening. Have they been used?
A cat snort. The twins used the polished one in the winter and earlier this month. Before you arrived. You will find nothing of importance with regard to those gliders.
Nevertheless, I will check them out for the sake of thoroughness. Then Draeg pinched shut the small bond and mental stream he might have with the cat. All right, he admitted to himself that he felt a sting that the Fam had been canny enough to find his hook and fling it away.
Keeping his footsteps gliding and quiet, his senses sharp to anyone who might observe him walking through the back gardens in the night, Draeg traversed herb, vegetable, medicinal gardens with a reluctant kernel of admiration that the Yews had managed to be self-sufficient for so long. All the Noble estates he knew of had that capability, but the Yews had actually done that.
Not that he, nor anyone he knew, thought that withdrawing into one’s estate with minimal contact with others was healthy.
And he’d reached the garage, a blocky building of the same gray stone as the Residence. Pausing for a moment, he leaned against the wall and checked on his bond with Loridana D’Yew, and found she slept peacefully, more comfortably than he’d anticipated, and with no anxiety. Stretching that particular link as far as he could, he caught the comfort of softness beneath her, not of a bedsponge, and a whiff of four elements.
She’d retreated into the HouseHeart; good. Rubbing his face because the depth of her sleep had him recalling that he hadn’t had any this night, he straightened and pulled open the garage door.
It creaked, and Draeg froze.
None
of the stable doors creaked. Obviously someone other than Loridana dealt with the garage.
The back of his neck prickled as he stepped inside, slowly pushed the door until the creak began again, and stopped. He murmured the most common light couplet and a dim overhead lightglobe shone yellow.
As he stalked around the two gliders, renewed anger simmered at the thought that Loridana had been hurt. The two Yew gliders sat on their stands. He checked out the fronts, but from his calculations, if either of these had struck Loridana, the break would have been in the upper bone of her leg, the femur. The blow would have caught her higher.
He circled them a couple of more times but didn’t lift the doors, in case they were alarmed. He wished he could have, though. He might have been able to discover something regarding the twins, or the Family, or the nav might have some info as to where and when the gliders were last driven.
After no more than fifteen minutes, he left the building, this time murmuring a spell to muffle the sound of the door as he shut it, then flicked his fingers to remove any trace of his presence on the handle.
Once again he checked Loridana and found she yet slept.
He couldn’t; too restless. So he ran, pushing speed and agility, hurdling over obstacles, back to the stables. He slowed when he realized he’d awakened the animals, who were all tucked into the stalls.
Naturally he counted noses, with all eight present. Neither the twins nor any servers they might have had bothered the beasts that night.
But Draeg couldn’t settle, even after a waterfall.
When he scried Tinne Holly, the man’s sleepy voice came. “Here. Draeg?” A quick inhalation as the warrior came immediately to his senses. “What’s wrong?”
“Loridana D’Yew—”
“You found proof of her guilt!”
“No.” Draeg’s own voice clipped fast and hard from him. “She suffered a mysterious glider accident.”
“Dead?” The dark pebble lightened to show Tinne leaning against the soft cushions of a couch. His silver-blond hair stuck out.
Heart Legacy Page 15