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Heart Legacy

Page 31

by Robin D. Owens


  Like he had, he knew she meant. And thinking of the always shifting allies and political maneuvering of the Council, he couldn’t give her a positive answer to that question, either. “No, I can’t promise you that.”

  She made a disgusted noise, set her hands on her hips, raised her chin. “Can you promise me, GrandLord Draeg Betony-Blackthorn, that if I took you up on your offer of hospitality for me and my Fam and my six stridebeasts and my animals, that your Family, the FirstFamily Blackthorns, would welcome me?”

  “Yes.” He stood solid and tall, met her gaze. “Yes, that I can promise you.”

  The ends of her lips curved. “And I’m sure that my presence would complicate your Family’s lives no end.” Narrowing her eyes. “And how much would your father use me?”

  Draeg stiffened. His jaw flexed. “As little as humanly possible.”

  Her head inclined a fraction. “Probably as much as you did, then, yes?” She turned and walked away.

  Flinching, Draeg accepted the pain, the anger, the guilt. Her next words came stiltedly, with the hurt. “I think it’s better for everyone, for me, for Yew Residence, for my Family, if I continued with my plans to leave for the Valerian estate. Right now the Residence and Cuspid and Folia have everything set up the way they want it, and they can continue that with my blessing.”

  Yeah, he’d hurt her deeply and didn’t know how to make it better because she wouldn’t let him try to fix her situation.

  “You really are just going to walk away without a fight.”

  She whirled back, hands fisting, face flushed with rage. “Do you think that throughout my eighteen years I haven’t tried to fight?”

  “I—”

  Slashing her hand through the air, she continued, “Don’t you think I demanded my birthright? They ignored that, have ignored everything I’ve tried, like subtly endeavored to influence that? What happened? Nothing! I found a Fam I loved and brought him into the Residence and the twins tried to kill him?” Her voice rose. “I rescued him from a dungeon and had to fight my hardest just to keep him in the garden shed. To keep my animals. To get horses. Don’t you talk to me about fighting.”

  “You need to report your problems to the authorities.”

  She panted, shaking her head. “You just don’t get it. Fighting wouldn’t be best for me, or for my Family. You think I haven’t thought and thought and thought about this? You think this is impulsive?” She threw up her hands and gave him one last furious look. He wanted to grab her and hold her and help her, but the instant he took a half step forward, she backed up three paces.

  “Even you, the one outsider who has spent weeks on the estate, don’t understand my Family or the Residence—” Her voice broke. “Or me. Just go away, Draeg.”

  “Lori—” He grabbed her hands again before she could teleport again, rushed into speech.

  “Your cuzes are dangerous; I don’t want you hurt.”

  Gasping, she yanked away from his grasp. He saw, briefly, her eyes filled with tears, and her pain ripped at him.

  “I don’t want you hurt physically,” he said, making the whole damn thing worse. Though she’d snapped their link down to a microfilament, her whole being radiated torment and he cursed himself again, everything about this fliggering situation. Swallowing, he tried not to feel his own hurt, tried to speak around it, lay out his conclusions. “Your cuzes are behind everything. They’re secret members of the Traditionalist Stance and have conspired to harm others. And you, too. I think they’re behind the glider accident. They want you out of the picture permanently.”

  “You. Are. Crazy,” she stated, her voice rough.

  Since it didn’t look like she was heading anywhere, that she was listening to him, he settled into his stance. “No. I’m not.” He angled his chin. “That’s my conclusion.”

  She pointed a finger at him. “You’re wrong.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t think so.”

  With a snort, she said, “My cuzes, Vi and Zus, are not controlled enough to plan anything like all these accidents. Or kidnappings. They’re lazy, and they aren’t so smart.”

  “You believe so?”

  “Yes. I do. They’re selfish and they demand immediate gratification of their whims. Which usually happens because they’ve been spoilt all their lives.”

  “I hear you.”

  “So don’t go thinking that they’re some sort of evil masterminds.” She gulped, and her eyes sheened again. “They’re liars and spies. Like you.”

  “I—”

  She slashed a hand through the air. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “You’re not a good enough actor, if I’d told you.”

  Her gasp vibrated through the air. She speared her finger toward him. “Rationalization.” Her lip curled in disdain at him before she said, “You didn’t know I was leaving until I told you. The Residence and my Family still don’t know I’m going.” A toss of her head. “I’ve been acting all my whole life.” Her smile sliced at him. “But I must admit you’re an excellent actor, too. I had no id-idea—” Voice breaking, she stopped and inhaled, shook her head as her trembling lips grimaced downward. “I believed everything you said.” She laughed harshly. “I thought you poor, and a Commoner, and that you lo—cared for me.”

  “I do!”

  “Just stop the lies, Draeg Betony-Blackthorn. I don’t want to hear any more.”

  “No lies!”

  She shrugged and repeated herself. “I don’t want to hear any more from you. Lies, truths, rationalizations, explanations. I’m tired of all that.” Her lips moved silently in a Flair Word and her face looked better, eyes clear, flush gone from her cheeks. “Now, I’m leaving. Let the Residence and the Family determine their own future. You do what you want.” Another tight smile. “Since, like everyone else in my life, you always do.”

  Baccat! she yelled mentally.

  The cat appeared near her feet.

  She held out her arms and the cat leapt into them. Dropping her head into her Fam’s fur, she spoke, and her voice was muffled. “Time to go. Finally time to leave.” She glanced at the twinmoons and shivered.

  “It’s late,” Draeg said from between chilled lips. “The horses could take harm in the cold tonight—” he croaked from a dry throat.

  Lori flinched, her face stilling to immobility. “That is my decision, is it not? You have nothing to say in the matter.”

  While revving a purr, the cat slitted his eyes at Draeg but projected his question so Draeg could hear it. Leave D’Yew Estate? Leave Druida?

  “Yes. On our schedule. As planned. Everything’s ready. I’ve had it with Nobles. We’ll be gone tomorrow night.” She seared him with a look. “I don’t ever want to see you again. I’ll inform the maître de maison that you have left for a better job.” Her voice was heavily ironic. Then she teleported away.

  No backwash of air flowed over him or around him, but the backlash of emotion, the snapping shut of the bond, made his heart twinge and his mind spin. He had to lower his head and soften his knees to keep his equilibrium.

  He’d fliggering screwed up. Everything.

  Indescribable pain saturated him, down to the cells of his very marrow. With each breath he wondered how he could survive the agony to take another.

  * * *

  Oh, the teenage angst,” D’Grove, a matronly woman of late middle age, said as she stepped from behind the screen. “The drama.”

  T’Ash, still dressed as a tester, followed her, flushing a little under his swarthy skin. “Maybe so, but truth rang in her words.” He stared at the dais and the chairs, his chair on it. “Lady and Lord know, sometimes I’d like only the responsibility of my Family, the pleasure of a small property, the company of animals.” He paused and said with solid finality, “She’s not involved in these abominable attacks.”

  “No,” D’Grove said. She shook her head at Draeg. “And you’ve destroyed your relationship with D’Yew. For the moment.”

  Draeg knew that; his g
ut had tightened with horrible nausea and he struggled to keep his gorge down. A wave of heat had flushed through him at Lori’s words, the kernel of truth in them. Then the heat faded, leaving sudden sweat clammy on his skin.

  Thirty-six

  A heavy hand dropped on his shoulder and he glanced up at his adoptive father, a sandy-haired man taller and leaner than he, and for once, looking at that determined and stern expression, Draeg understood he did have a hint of the Blackthorn features. Underlying bone structure, a little broader, but the same cast.

  “You should have said you wanted to be my heir, a FirstFamilies GrandLord. I’d consider you for it—”

  “I don’t want to be your heir!” spurted from Draeg’s lips before he thought. He winced.

  “Yeah?” T’Blackthorn asked.

  Draeg’s turn to loosen his tight shoulders. “No offense.” Discreetly, he stretched his back again, loosened his stance. “It’s just that . . .”

  One of T’Blackthorn’s brows rose. “What?”

  “This sounds stupid.” Spit out the damn words so he could leave and try to fix his relationship with Lori! “I love the Yew estate. It’s beautiful. Not too groomed, great view of the river, good chunk of forest. It feels right to me.”

  “That’s not stupid.” D’Grove’s voice had gone soft, and so had her expression . . . as had the others’, thinking of their ancestral land. Draeg didn’t have ancestral land, and a need he’d never realized before he’d been at D’Yew’s throbbed with ache.

  “I like the Residence.” Well, he liked the look of the Residence, even if he’d never been in it more than a few paces. He set his jaw. He bet he could take on a Residence and win. Cave of the Dark Goddess, Lori could take on the Residence and win. Why didn’t she think that? Why wouldn’t she do that? “I have a problem thinking someone could just walk away from an estate.”

  “Huh,” said T’Blackthorn, a man who’d done just that.

  “A simpler life has its attractions,” T’Ash said.

  “D’Yew would be young to oppose older Family members and an entrenched Residence personality. She obviously believes it isn’t worth the effort,” D’Grove said consideringly. “Obviously she has no love or support from her Family, and they’ve made demands and not offered sufficient emotional compensation to have her believe she is an integral part of the Family.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Draeg said. “I’ve heard a lot about that, seen how they treat her with disrespect,” he admitted, then shook his head. “Still can’t figure why she won’t fight.” He glanced at the faces surrounding him, saw mostly compassion.

  D’Grove drew a breath. “She isn’t involved in the attacks, and it’s equally obvious that she has no influence over any Yew Family members who might be. She can’t help us there.”

  “No. And I can’t go back.” He wanted to go back, back to just a septhour ago. Desperation began to creep through him as he realized the complete destruction of his life.

  His father clapped him on the shoulder and he went down.

  * * *

  The next morning, when Lori awoke, she lay on her bedsponge, quiet, as grief that Draeg was no longer here, no longer with her, would no longer be with her, washed through her. The waves of emotional pain crested, but she held them in until she reached the stables and fed and watered her animals. Their loving support helped her get through the worst.

  As she did her dawn chores at the stables, she went through her list of preparations. The weather remained warm and sunny, and those of the Family members who worked the farm had said last night that the next three weeks should be good. Good enough for Lori and the stridebeasts and the horses to journey to the tiny manor in the south. They should all have time enough to reach the place before spring storms.

  After she’d finished her time with the animals, she ran to the Residence—conserving Flair for the journey tonight—and cleaned up, letting the waterfall sluice away the remnants of bad dreams, negative emotions, and the tears she allowed herself.

  Turning up the heat of the waterfall, dumping more herbs than usual through it, she cherished the luxury. Up to three weeks on the road to her new home could be challenging, cleanliness-wise.

  She fixed on the future, not the past. Tonight, she and her small herd of stridebeasts and horses, and, of course, Baccat, would leave.

  Today was the last day in her childhood . . . place. She was an adult and would leave the Residence and the Family who would not acknowledge that, not allow her to live an adult life.

  She traced the final route in her mind. Moving six stridebeasts and two horses would be a challenge, and for sure, they’d be seen, but no one had the right to stop them.

  Today she’d say subtle good-byes to her Family and the land, and the Residence. She’d have liked to spend some time in the HouseHeart, but she would do nothing unusual that might alert anyone that she and the animals were leaving.

  The Family would stop her if they could, would punish her, perhaps might try to imprison her, though with the development of her Flair, that was less likely than it had once been. The Residence remained a threat, if it could trap her somehow. That had to be avoided.

  As she dressed in one of her best daily gowns that the older members of the Family preferred her to wear, which she’d be leaving behind like most of her wardrobe, she continued to send images of the route to her animals.

  At breakfast, in a small, last test, she brought up scheduling the loyalty ceremony to confirm her as D’Yew for Beltane, next month. Silence fell across the long table of twelve; her cuzes, Zus and Vi, snorted in unison. “Best if we do that later in the year,” Zus said with the authority of his father, Cuspid. “The political environment is stagnant right now; do it closer to the elections in the autumn.”

  Lori thought that was exactly what he’d said last year. She chewed her good food—well, yes, she’d miss someone else preparing food—then allowed herself a small frown and a considering hum. “Wouldn’t it be better if I take my seat at the FirstFamily Council table if I’ve been confirmed by a loyalty ceremony and acting as D’Yew for some months?”

  A few people crossed gazes, and then Cuspid said, “We can talk about this later.” He cleared his throat. “I am thinking that we might want to do a GreatRitual for the estate and the Residence at Beltane. To address the landscaping. Perhaps we can refurbish the other two stable buildings, too.” That was a clear sop to her, to keep her happy, even though she knew who would be gathering the most energy, sending the most energy, anchoring the ritual and any other plans they made.

  She finished a bit of pancake and let her frown deepen. “I was sure that we spoke midwinter about me being confirmed D’Yew and participating with the other FirstFamily Nobles at GreatCircle Temple at Beltane.”

  “Things have changed with regard to the Traditionalist Stance political party,” Vi stated, placing her napkin on her plate and rising, looking as if she was ready to leave the room before Lori, a definite breach of manners. On another day, Lori might have stood, too, to emphasize that she was the titular D’Yew. Cuspid frowned at his daughter, but no one said anything.

  If Lori hadn’t already decided to leave now, that action of Vi’s would have confirmed her conclusion. The Family had solidified into status lines around her. She might be a figurehead with absolutely no power.

  But her own feelings had been validated. To fight for the estate as Draeg had wanted her to do would be a large and ugly battle, and simply not worth it to her.

  Let them continue with their political maneuvering without her. Let them pile wealth on wealth. Let them take care of the estate they cherished and she didn’t.

  She was nothing to them but a person to be used, and she sure didn’t care to be used by anyone anymore. Not the Nobles she’d met the night before. Not her Family. Not her Residence. Not Draeg.

  That was over.

  Lori watched Vi strut with satisfaction from the room. Zus got up and left, too.

  Scanning the table, Lori considered
each face and couldn’t believe that any of these people could or would spearhead a plan to kill anyone, even the despised Hollys. Her relatives were, primarily, prideful isolationists who liked living in the past, when Lori’s MotherSire had been a real power in the FirstFamily Council, years before Lori’s existence.

  And Vi and Zus had never impressed Lori as incredibly competent.

  After folding her own softleaf as GrandLady D’Yew should on her plate, Lori stood, inclined her head to the rest of her Family, and wished them good day.

  * * *

  Her monthly duty had her walking the land today. Sentimentally she felt it might be an omen.

  Yes, there were views that ached her heart with their beauty, and that she’d miss. And when she sat in the small grove where she’d spent so much time of tears and triumphs, learned to meditate and breathe and think for herself, she knew this loss would grieve her. So she stared until the last image of the wondrous place imprinted upon her brain and the memory sphere she carried with her.

  She wondered a little what the bespelled globe would pick up of her emotions. She wouldn’t be trying to impress them on the sphere. Excitement and anticipation, surely. Echoes of the lost love of Draeg? How much had he wanted her instead of her estate?

  Biting her lip that nearly curved in a smile, surprising her, she reckoned that Draeg had had no thought of her estate when they made love.

  She went to the gates of the estate and looked out, as she had so often as a child. Until last year and her Second Passage that marked her as an adult, she’d measured her height and age by these gates. Curling her hand around the edged bars, she felt the warmth. Yes, spring had arrived and it was time to go.

  Her heart agreed with her head that it was past time.

  She stood there until the late afternoon sun heated her and a brisk breeze swept from the ocean. She had enough mental pictures of such panoramas.

 

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