Heart Legacy

by Robin D. Owens

  I can see that! I know where that is, on the public carrier line between the Turquoise House and CityCenter.

  Too bad Draeg’s adopted brother wasn’t at home at the Turquoise House. Draeg was a little surprised that Nuin even knew about public carrier routes; the guy had had a sports glider for three years, since his adulthood.

  The image Nuin sent back to him looked different, not a flat map image but three-dimensional with buildings. Only to be expected; Nuin was one of the top Fire Mages in the city and worked with Air Mages to put out blazes. He’d be interested in the buildings.

  I’m on it! Nuin enthused, jogging from the park to a public carrier plinth. Draeg got a quick visual from Nuin himself, and the bit he saw showed Nuin in latest extreme fashion of a young, wealthy FirstFamily Noble.

  Like Loridana wouldn’t notice that tailing her.

  Draeg sighed, then shrugged; better she be safe and her whereabouts—if anything happened that could be blamed on the Yews—be known. Nobody would doubt Nuin Ash’s word.

  Still, the back of Draeg’s neck tingled with warning, knotted. He rolled his head, then walked to the whickering horses. Now all he could do was pray.

  * * *

  The moment Lori teleported away, it felt like an oppressive cloud wrapping around her and a heap of stones hunching her over with their weight vanished. She straightened, not to the proud stance she’d been drilled in, but naturally, like when she was with her horses. Put aside everything that happened today, let pleasure flood her! Her first time alone in Druida City! In the light!

  Moving easily, she stepped out of the tiny secondary teleportation closet in Apollopa Temple. She’d learned by experience that the Priest who manned the small jewel of a temple kept a light-spell burning all the time, and it never varied.

  Neither he nor anyone else was evident, and she let out a little, happy breath. She only took a half minute to soak up the calm ambience, when usually she lingered.

  Today, though, she had gilt and put some silver slivers in the donation urn for all the times she’d used the teleportation room. That felt good, and she couldn’t keep from smiling. Her steps nearly bounced with her enthusiasm to see the city by day . . . well, sunset would come within a septhour, but right now she walked in rich light.

  She wanted to look in shops. The ones in CityCenter, where Baccat had taken her to see the jewelry store, T’Ash’s Phoenix, were too expensive, so she flipped mentally through the areas she’d scouted. Southwest had a nice district, but she’d have to transfer to another public carrier line in CityCenter, another adventure.

  Each new thing pleased her; she laughed as she hopped on the first carrier.

  Getting off at CityCenter, she walked a block to the colored plinth of the glider bus line she wanted and waited with others, people who looked like they were heading home from work. Lori tried to imagine what it would be like to work all day at a shop or some other business, but she had no experience to base anything on. She bit her lip as she slid her eyes around at her companions. She couldn’t empathize with anyone here because she had no notion of their lives.

  That struck her as too sad all around. With a set chin, she determined that she wouldn’t keep to her own property when she reached it. She’d visit the nearest town and become part of a community.

  The very thought, the yearning it brought, simply made her ache.

  Are you all right, FamWoman? Baccat asked, checking in with her.

  Since he seemed distracted, it was easy to mask her thoughts a bit and pretend she remained at home. Just the usual, she said, hoping he wouldn’t catch the lie.

  We will be gone SOON. He gave her their mantra and sent a stream of love that had her relaxing her body. Then his mind distanced; good.

  “I see a member of a FirstFamily is out,” an older man said drily.

  Lori froze. How had she been discovered?

  “Oh, my,” said a woman who appeared to be with him.

  Incrementally, Lori angled her gaze to follow theirs, and goggled.

  Hers wasn’t the only gasp as she stared at the young man. A girl elbowed her and shared a cheeky grin. “Zow. Who’s that?”

  Everyone had turned to look at the Noble—surely no more than a couple of years older than Lori—in a yellow loungesuit made of slick silkeen. At least what she could see of him as he sat in the open-topped fire-red sports glider.

  “His tunic has . . . things . . . on the shoulder,” Lori said.

  “Epaulettes, with buttons,” said the girl next to her. “I’m in fashion and those are the latest.”

  Lori wondered a little what “in fashion” meant. The girl worked in an upscale clothing shop? For a tailor or dressmaker? Designed clothes? It could be any of those, she supposed. “He is a sight to be seen,” she admitted. Long and lean, but with muscles under those fashionable clothes, black wavy hair and deep blue eyes, with even features.

  “That’s T’Ash’s FirstSon and Heir, Nuin,” said the older man. He cleared his throat. “Not much like his father.”

  “Looks much more amiable,” said the older woman with approval.

  “No marriage bands,” said the girl next to Lori.

  Lori shivered a little. She didn’t want to get married, barely thought of men like that. Except Draeg Hedgenettle, rather. That man stirred feelings in her. Draeg wasn’t as tall as the Ash Heir, and looked a lot stronger, in body at least. Though she thought a FirstFamily man would have a lot of Flair, at least as much as she did, and she had the most in the Family.

  Because the Yews had bred for Flair.

  Then the public carrier glider trundled up and they all entered in a line. The girl sat next to her, even as she smilingly shook her head at Lori. “You aren’t in fashion.”

  Lori chuckled. “No.” She paused. “What is your job?”

  “I’m a journeywoman to a designer; what do you do?”

  “I serve an estate.”

  “That explains it. Excellent-quality material . . .” Her fingers hovered close to Lori’s sleeve, “May I feel the fabric?’

  Lori nodded.

  The girl did and sucked in a breath. “Ab-so-lutely saturated with Flair for spells.”

  “Really?” Lori asked. “They seem standard to me.”

  The girl gave her an odd look but said, “Not only will they wick away sweat and stay looking great, no wrinkles, they are tear resistant and able to tint several colors, change a bit of shape in the fullness, too.”

  How about that. But the Family would consider bespelled clothes as shortcuts to real grooming and care for one’s possessions. At least for Lori.

  * * *

  Updates from Nuin Ash hadn’t been sufficient. The guy had said Loridana was shopping and had sounded bored. Draeg didn’t quite trust Nuin to be observant or watchful.

  No use for it. Draeg had to expend a good amount of Flair to finish his chores, and he shorted a couple of stridebeasts and Smyrna their run. The horse snorted angrily and sent a vague image of kicking Draeg the next time he approached. Draeg sent back a sense of immediate danger and the visualization of Lori cowering. Too much! He stirred anxiety in the whole herd and they rustled in their stalls.

  “I’m going to take care of her,” he stated in a loud voice, and though they settled a little, he still felt tension from them. In his apartment, Draeg changed into unremarkable middle-class clothes and stuck a slightly battered hat on his head, then checked the teleportation pad in the Mercenaries’ Guild Office in the southwest part of the city. Nuin had sent another three-dimensional map image to Draeg, and that was the nearest teleportation pad Draeg knew.

  Just before he stepped into the corner of his mainspace that he kept clear for teleportation, he heard a screech from Baccat. Draeg! Primross, come quick!

  Come where? Draeg demanded, and heard his words echoed from another mind, Garrett Primross, the private investigator.

  Rotunda park. Grovestudy for Marin Holly!

  Draeg’s gut clenched. On my way.

&nb
sp; Heading there transnow, Primross stated.

  But the Fam wasn’t listening to him; he fought big people, scratching, clawing, biting. Draeg sucked in a breath, took precious instants to make sure he knew the area, the closest teleportation pad. It was in use. Hopefully Primross. Three seconds of prepping for a fight, breathing, settling into the zone; the signal came that the pad was open, and he left.

  Panting with caught sobbing breath and whimpering hit his ears. In the sunset he saw a limp and bloody cat, ten-year-old Marin Holly, and Primross with a blazer out, pivoting, checking out the area with flinty eyes.

  Marin stared down at Baccat.

  Horror jolted through Draeg at the sight of Baccat; his skull appeared dented, one of his eyes crusted with blood, broken ribs in his side. How could he—they—ever explain this to Loridana?

  He’d put the strong tracking spell on the collar instead of the teleport-to-Healer-if-injured spell. Wrong call.

  Draeg’s breath whooshed out as he saw the Fam’s side rise and fall, then realized the cat must be hiding his condition from Loridana.

  Draeg spun himself, checking out the park, used more Flair and sent it sweeping over the area. No one hid in the dark and lengthening shadows. He checked his hooks in Zus’s and Vi’s auras. Sure enough, they were in Druida City, at a lower Noble’s house. Then Draeg ran to Baccat.

  “What happened?” Draeg demanded.

  Primross holstered his blazer, then flipped a gold tag onto Baccat and the Fam disappeared.

  “What the hell did you do?” Draeg demanded.

  “Sent him to Danith D’Ash.”

  “Oh. Before we could question him?”

  “Cat’s nearly unconscious, no questioning,” Primross said. His mouth thinned. “And he has a head injury, so he probably won’t remember much.”

  Fligger! “Maybe you, and Marin”—Draeg bowed to the boy—“could inform me what’s going on?”

  The slightly trembling boy shuddered once, then went still, but he remained pale. He gulped and Draeg thought he swallowed tears.

  Primross stated evenly, “Marin, here, convinced his Family that he didn’t need a bodyguard.”

  This time Marin’s swallow was audible.

  “That he was old enough to defend himself,” Primross continued.

  Draeg winced, but the boy’s obvious misery pushed him to say, “I don’t see any villains around.”

  Marin wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “The FamCat . . . helped—”

  “Saved,” Primross insisted.

  “—me.” The boy scowled. “I’ve had my First Passage. I have good Flair!”

  Shaking his head, Draeg rolled his hand in a “hurry up” gesture.

  “So I assigned Baccat as a feline guard today,” Primross said.

  “I’d put off weeding my grovestudy garden and our tutor scolded me so I stayed behind, just me and the friendly Fam. He likes jerky.” Finally Marin pulled a softleaf from his trous pocket and wiped his face, blew his nose. “I forgot I wasn’t supposed to be alone. I just forgot.”

  “And?” Draeg prompted.

  “A pretty lady came by eating a flatsweet with cocoa chips.” Another gulp from the boy. “It smelled hot and good, and I was hungry.”

  Draeg recalled always being hungry at ten, and having a faulty memory for parental orders, and temptation too much to ignore.

  Standing straight, lips compressed before he answered, Marin said, “I took the flatsweet and I was gonna eat it, but the FamCat yelled and teleported onto my shoulder.” He blinked rapidly as he looked down at Baccat’s blood staining the grass. “He’s a big kitty and I wasn’t expecting him.” Marin sucked in a breath or two, sank into his balance. “I . . . saw something from the corner of my eye, sensed someone, and whirled, and drew my blazer.” He patted the small holstered pistol. Draeg was definitely impressed that a boy his age had qualified to carry one, but he belonged to the best warrior Family on Celta.

  “The FamCat jumped at the lady with all claws and she screamed and hit him. She hit a Fam!” Marin’s eyes went from gray to silver at the outrage. “And the guy lunged at me and I had to fire, and it hit and he yelled and I smelled singed skin.” The child shuddered.

  Draeg squatted before him. “First time you had to blaze a person instead of a simulacrum?”

  Marin nodded. “Then they both teleported away, and left me with the FamCat and he was down and couldn’t teleport and I can’t, either, I’m too young.”

  “Baccat sent an alarm to me,” Primross said. He rubbed Marin’s shoulder. “On the whole, you did well, Marin.”

  “Not good enough to escape punishment.” The boy’s knees dipped even lower as he sank farther into his balance. Because he’d been trained not to shift his weight and risk being off balance.

  “Primross is right. You did well. Your original decision may not have been wise, but your actions were correct, and you’ll never make the same decision again, will you?” Draeg held out his arm to clasp, a courtesy of one man to another.

  “No, sir.”

  “Where is this famous flatsweet?” Draeg asked.

  Primross grunted. “Gone, along with the pair of humans, but we found a broken bit and I translocated it to the guards’ laboratory. What did the woman look like?” asked Primross.

  “Tall and blond with light green eyes. The man looked like a relative.”

  Draeg’s chest tightened. Cave of the Dark Goddess.

  Thirty-three

  Carefully, carefully, masking the fear Marin’s words had spurted through him, Draeg sent a request for information to Nuin Ash, Draeg’s friend who also was a friend of Marin’s older sister. Anything to report?

  A huge, bored sigh. D’Yew is walking with another girl, and they are hitting every shop on Woodruff Street.

  You see her?

  Yes, yes, Draeg. You’re like a clucker with one chick. I see her. I’ve SEEN her for the last septhour.

  My thanks. He tried to send the thought lightly but something tipped Nuin off.

  What happened?

  Just keep an eye on D’Yew.

  Draeg heard a growl in Nuin’s mind, wondered if the man let it out of his throat.

  You tell me what happened now!

  Oh, yeah, that was FirstFamily arrogance. And concern. And protectiveness.

  All is well here, except for a FamCat. You defend D’Yew. Because she’d be blamed if any other Yews had a choice in a scapegoat.

  I will guard her with my life! Nuin vowed, then said, Why is she at risk? None of OUR allies would harm her.

  She’ll be blamed by everyone as the one holding the title for any of her Family members’ evil actions.

  WHAT ACTIONS? Nuin demanded.

  I have your word that you’ll stay there?

  Yes, yes!

  Marin Holly was targeted and attacked, Draeg said.

  “What?” Nuin Ash demanded, arriving in person—recklessly teleporting to where he no doubt sensed Draeg to be, blessedly missing Primross and Marin and the trees around them.

  “So much for your word to guard,” Draeg said. Deliberately not adding Loridana’s name or title.

  “Are you all right?” Nuin took two strides and swept the boy up into his arms. Marin flushed and wiggled.

  “Let this be a lesson to you, Marin, that even men of twenty make poor decisions,” Draeg said. “Nuin, what of your word?”

  “I’m all right,” Marin said. He slanted a look at Draeg. “You told him.” His fair skin flushed even darker. “Please put me down, Nuin.”

  “What of your word?” Draeg repeated.

  With a harassed expression, Nuin set Marin on his feet. “I didn’t think—”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Children,” Primross said, obviously including all of them in a hard glance. “Draeg, take care of your own business. Nuin, please teleport to your mother’s Animal Healing Office and check on Baccat, who guarded and saved Marin.” The private investigator stepped up to Marin and put a long
arm around the boy’s shoulders. “I am teleporting with Marin to the GuildHall and the pad just outside the FirstFamily Council room. I will speak with members of the FirstFamilies and call in the Captain of the Guards, Ilex Winterberry.” After a count of three, Primross and Marin vanished.

  Feeling irritated, Draeg pivoted toward Nuin. “So much for believing in your word, thinking you’re a responsible man.”

  “You think the Yews had something to do with this?” Nuin demanded.

  “I don’t know.” Draeg jutted his chin. “But you watched Loridana D’Yew; do you think she is involved?”

  Nuin flung up his hands. “I can’t say.”

  “What you can say is that she was shopping when Marin was attacked, and I expect you to do that, if asked. In fact, you should make a memory sphere of the last couple of septhours, immediately, and translocate it to the FirstFamily Council chamber to where you occasionally sit. Now I must hope I can catch up with Lori . . . just in case the same person who targeted Marin decides she might make a good scapegoat. A good, dead, scapegoat. Finally we have witnesses in this case.”

  “Draeg—”

  “Do as Primross ordered.” Irritation sizzled down Draeg’s nerves, and if he kept up this conversation he could ruin his friendship with the guy. Mentally he checked the teleportation pad in the courtyard of the Mercenaries’ Southwest GuildHall, found it free, and ’ported away.

  Once there, he got a bad feeling about missing whatever arguments—probably chaos—might be happening in the FirstFamily Council chamber or wherever. He hired a couple of guards he knew, one male and one female, to tail Lori discreetly and protect her if trouble found her.

  He also checked on his hooks in the twins. Both of them had returned to the sanctuary of D’Yew Residence.

  * * *

  When the last of the sunlight disappeared behind the buildings and street light-spells flickered on, Lori’s new friend, Anthema Mayweed, regretfully excused herself so she could eat with her current gallant.

  Leaving Lori alone again. She’d enjoyed being with the other girl, listening to her talk about her life, so different than Lori’s own, but didn’t press her to keep in touch. After all, soon Lori would be gone.