“Well done,” murmured D’Grove.
Then the gates shook as the land trembled—at her words or her last footstep. The stridebeasts shuffled and Lori walked away, focused on a prancing Baccat, nearly dizzy as a dark load she’d carried within her dissolved. Ill will and negativity lodged within her fell away with each pace she took.
The Nobles remained on either side of the road and bowed toward her in a ripple as she passed—a heady thing if she’d let herself believe in their honor and respect—and she walked to Bountry Boulevard and away from the estate.
She didn’t look back.
* * *
Draeg paced. He should go to Lori. He should find her and claim her. He should carry her and her herd to T’Blackthorn’s.
She wouldn’t allow that.
He should go with her to the Valerian estate, accompany her. Walk along the public road with her. Convince her they belonged together.
But she didn’t trust him to take care of her here, to fight for her. His heart felt skewered by that spear of distrust, barely able to beat around it. A deep and abiding ache.
Winterberry and the Hollys talked and talked and talked with Cuspid Yew, the maître de maison, and the Residence about . . . stuff. Penalties. Allies. Expectations.
They were all relieved that the Residence hadn’t fought them, though the looming threat of a huge Earthan machine at the main back gate must have helped. Draeg’s father, Straif T’Blackthorn, had murmured that all the FirstFamily Residences had hooked into the Yew Residence communication channels and were keeping it sane.
Draeg didn’t think so, sort of thought it had slipped sanity a while back.
He wanted to be with Lori. In frustration, he banged on the wall with a fist.
“Stop that!” the Residence ordered. “Haven’t you done enough, spy? Haven’t you and Loridana done enough, bringing this scandal upon us?”
Fury popped words right out of his mouth. “Not true. Vi and Zus brought all this down on them because of their actions with the Traditionalist Stance. Because they are kidnappers and attempted murderers. Because your Family and you have been isolated and the twins spoilt.”
Teeth hurting from the confrontation with Lori, Draeg stomped back toward the formal visitation chamber. As he went, he snapped, “Yew Residence!”
“I hear you.” The voice came echoing hollowly down the corridor, and Draeg sensed it was dealing with several conversations at once. Too bad.
He translocated the button Tinne Holly had found under the faulty balcony from a drawer in Draeg’s apartment over the stables, stopped and held it up to a scrystone so the Residence could see it. “Do you recognize this? It was found at the site of a murder attempt. Do you, with your prodigious memory, recall any one of your inhabitants walking your halls missing a button like this?” Draeg demanded—and his voice echoed. Enough that he thought those in the visitors’ chamber would hear him.
The atmosphere closed in around him, became leaden.
“Answer him,” Captain of the Guards Ilex Winterberry said softly, and Draeg had no trouble hearing him.
“Zus lost a cuff button a few months ago,” the Residence said dully. “A seamstress replaced it.”
Draeg sucked in air and continued. “Look at you. No one wants to stay with you. No reasonable person, at least,” he amended.
“You mock our grief,” the Residence snapped.
“And which grief is that? Grief that three of your inhabitants are murderous? Grief that the Yew name is besmirched with dishonor? Grief that you must suffer through a scandal of your own making?” He laded his tones with scorn. “Certainly not grief that Lori left you.” As she’d left him, wouldn’t accept his support.
“She is an ingrate,” the Residence said, but he thought he heard a wail of disbelief behind that, as though a wind blew through all the halls of the house.
“No. She is a woman and she is an adult and worthy of respect, which you never gave her.”
“She is GONE. My baby Yew, the last of the direct line.”
She was gone. Draeg couldn’t stand it any longer; he escaped the Residence, too.
Thirty-nine
Guards cleared the way for her and her animals; Baccat paraded in front, in his ruby collar he’d asked to wear and she’d put on him.
So many people watched her. So many people saw her now, it was scary.
Other people and Fams walked with her: T’Ash and his big black-and-white Fam, Zanth, and T’Ash’s daughter, Jasmine—both humans telling her that she’d qualify to found a GrandHouse herself. But she didn’t answer them, barely looked at them. So they dropped away and others took their place.
Avellana Hazel offered sanctuary at the new Intersection of Hope Cathedral for Lori and her beasts, but Lori shook her head, and the woman murmured an odd blessing and faded away.
Then Vinni T’Vine, the prophet, loped beside her. “I didn’t see this coming.”
She slid her gaze to his lined face. He looked older than he was. She shrugged.
“I knew of the plan that Tinne Holly and others of my age group formed. We asked Draeg Betony-Blackthorn to try to find out if any of the Yews were involved with the fanatics of the Traditionalist Stance. The violent fringe.”
“And they were, and Draeg did.”
“It was not a good plan.”
Lori shrugged. “It’s done.”
* * *
Yes, Lori had left. Was truly gone. And this place that had been wonderful—well, the land and the trees and the river and the Yew groves, the natural atmosphere of this place—yet tugged at chords deep within him. Yeah, music in his blood.
But the damn Residence, and its population—if he thought about it, he could vomit, or worse, let the red of fury flow over his vision and fight and . . . maim.
Draeg made for the stables, and halfway there, he began to run. Yesterday when she’d dismissed him, she hadn’t translocated any of his belongings to T’Blackthorn Residence—couldn’t—so he went to collect them now.
The shadow of Corax kept pace with him.
I am sorry you are so sad, my FamMan.
Though his throat and mouth remained dry with anger and disappointment and guilt and other strong emotions blowing through him like a biting wind, his mental voice had none of those problems. I am sorry, too. Sorry for me, sorry for Lori. Just plain sorry. He stopped abruptly when the stables and paddock came into view—an open gate to the enclosure, the stables completely closed.
A kick in the gut, the place he’d lived and loved, and where he’d worked with and loved Lori, deserted and abandoned. His breath stopped, and his mind swam before he reminded himself to breathe.
Corax flew down to land on Draeg’s shoulder, clicking his beak. It is sad they are gone. But better they are gone than here with mean people. A wave of sorrow came from him.
Draeg gasped in some air, continued telepathically, You came here because of the horses, Smyrna and Ragan, to be with them. Yet they have gone and you’re still here.
The raven nipped Draeg’s ear. He grimaced and grunted pain.
You are my FamMan, of course I stay with you. He paused. I spoke to them. They love the woman and woman loves them. They like the other four-footeds as much as they like me and have more in common with the ground-bound. Corax lifted his wings, brushing Draeg’s cheek with feathers. I FLY.
Draeg stroked the bird. “I love you.” He needed to say it aloud. “You will be the best one to help me get through this, I know.”
Thanks. I love you, too. Woman should have stayed with you, but she wouldn’t. You are right.
Shaking his head, Draeg said, “I wonder about that.”
“Kyurk!” Corax vocalized. And the horses have to put up with that CAT! The feathers around his throat ruffled. I am better here, with you.
“You could fly and observe them,” Draeg said, beginning to walk to the office door. He wanted to take time, and not to teleport. Besides, he didn’t know if Lori or any other Yew might have clean
ed the apartment, messed with his things, moved the furniture, and teleporting into a place you didn’t know could be deadly.
I could, but I won’t. I’m staying with you. She has other people, Lords and Ladies, maybe friends of yours, watching her. Probably through the city and all tonight. You should check with them.
Draeg’s eyes widened; he hadn’t thought of that. And he became aware of a low-level feed from his bond with Vinni T’Vine. Draeg accessed the stream of sensation-information. Vinni accompanied Lori and her animals through the city.
She was safe. The FirstFamilies would ensure she met with no harm on the road to her Valerian estate. Funds from that council had been allocated to hire a couple of mercenaries for her, perhaps help with nightly waystation fees. But . . . Vinni realized Draeg had tapped him and began a mental conversation.
My friend Draeg, I think that this lady, this former D’Yew, is such a matter of curiosity for the nosy FirstFamilies and other Nobles that she will have “exalted” company all the way to her estate.
That’s good, Draeg replied.
Yes, since it appears she set out on this venture with minimal supplies.
What?
For instance, I am thinking how I can augment her food, and perhaps food for her animals, though I believe she has gilt and feed enough for them.
Nausea rolled through him. He hadn’t known, hadn’t made the mental leap, despite her lack of coin, her shabby clothes, that she was—would be on this trip—poor. But of course she wouldn’t take anything from her Family, no gilt, and, of course, the Residence and the Farm would note if she’d stockpiled food, so she wouldn’t have.
Vinni continued, Though from my conversations with her Fam, HE will be fine.
Baccat, Draeg sneered. That Fam would ensure his lifestyle. Didn’t he have a pouch full of jewels? Did Lori know of that?
He is wearing a ruby necklace of great value.
Draeg sucked in some dust and coughed.
And, my pardon, but I must pay more attention to your lady.
Of course. Draeg hesitated, but he needed the information too much. Do you see us together? A whisper from his mind to Vinni’s.
The future hasn’t been narrowed down to a single option, yet.
Oh, Draeg said.
But I will remind you that HeartMates are forever, and I, personally, have never known a couple to stay apart for very long.
Draeg wasn’t sure what Vinni meant by “very long.” Thank you, he said.
It will work out, Vinni replied casually, then narrowed their bond.
Nothing about this whole fliggering matter felt casual to Draeg. He yanked at the office door, and it swung open easily, nearly unbalancing him. Striding through the office, he ran up the stairs and found everything as he’d left it. With a packing spell he’d mastered years ago, he drew everything that was his from the rooms and piled it on the bedsponge. More than he’d realized. Chanting a short chorus, he sent all his stuff to his chambers in T’Blackthorn Residence, then turned and left, not quite inclined to quit this place.
A couple of minutes later, he found himself standing at the double doors to the northern main stable block. He knew what lay beyond there, but he had to see it again.
Pushing in a door, he opened it only wide enough to see the mosaic. The best he’d ever done. Beautiful.
He’d created it for Lori. She was gone.
With an oath and a sweep of his arms, he covered the whole floor with several centimeters of earth. He turned and exited into the last streaks of too-bright golden sunset, slammed and locked the door behind him, and teleported to T’Blackthorn Residence.
* * *
The journey passed quickly and with no outward trouble at all due to the fact that professional guards showed up every day to accompany Lori and her small herd. One was the Noble Cratag T’Marigold, who lived across the street from the Yews, as well as guards clothed in the colors of the FirstFamilies.
She and her Family of animals had been directed to the best places to camp, and she’d paid from her diminishing gilt for the best provender for her beasts. Then she’d been told the FirstFamilies would finance her. Her pride fought with her love of her animals, and love won.
Baccat had smirked the entire trip.
Misery had plagued Lori internally—too much time to think of Draeg and the past and suffer. So when they reached the Valerian estate and the end of the road, Lori was as glad to see the place as any of her stridebeasts and horses. Even more grateful that it wasn’t in quite as good shape as she’d expected—which led to hard work, physical and magical, with a drain of energy and Flair that kept her concentrated on the here and now.
Though in the few minutes before sleep overwhelmed her in the dark softness of her bed, she acknowledged that her vision of the future was smudged by the ache of the past. But she’d get over Draeg, second by second, minute by minute, day by day as time passed. That she promised herself.
And the use of her Flair in making the estate—land and house—a jewel, and in caring for her animals, was incredibly satisfying. Finally, she decided how to run a place, what to do daily, though she had to admit Cuspid and Folia and the Residence had trained her well.
She didn’t think of her human Family much. Didn’t receive the newssheets or keep up with the vizes about any prosecution of the Yews. Could care less about any scandal of her Family in Druida City.
As the weeks passed from spring to summer, she was satisfied, even content, but she wasn’t happy. Having all her animals safe, the new animals she’d been able to purchase, training the horses and working on the estate, all those factors should have filled her life, her heart, to the brim.
But they hadn’t. She still felt she had this gaping hole in her. And occasionally she could feel an emotion or two from Draeg no matter how threadlike their bond was. Those were usually fierce and intense. While she had worked on making her life serene, actually dull, he seemed to have reverted to old and violent habits.
She ached for them. Maybe, someday, she’d forgive him. She thought so, but couldn’t quite visualize it yet. Actions and lifestyles she could imagine coming true, she could work toward. She wasn’t ready for him, for all the immense changes he would bring.
The morning of her birthday, the day before the starships had landed, the holiday of Discovery Day, Lori decided to make an apple pie. She’d found a whole stack of cookbooks in the kitchen and the pantry and learned to cook, though this would be her first pie.
She’d just slid the pie into the oven, when her old-fashioned scry bowl played a short tune and she stared at it. Not the music denoting business—the buying of animals and grain, the selling of goods or services. Yellow swirled above the bowl. Someone with great Flair, then.
The song stopped, then began again. Dusting off her hands, she walked over to the bowl on the counter, circled the rim with her finger to answer the call.
A man’s narrow face topped by sandy hair stared at her, and her stomach tightened. She knew enough of distant family likeness to guess who this was.
“Greetyou, Loridana Itha Valerian . . .”
His words hung as if he waited for her to finish her own name with “Yew.” She didn’t.
“I’m—”
“FirstFamily GrandLord Straif T’Blackthorn.”
He inclined his head. “Right. I’m scrying on my own behalf about my son, Draeg—”
“Has something happened to him?” she rushed.
His eyes bored into hers. “You left.”
She pulled an impassive mask over her face. “He spied on me and betrayed me.”
“I understand that you would think so. Know this, you can ask me anything about him and I will answer. No exceptions.”
Her breath caught and a thousand questions crowded her mind.
“But I am also calling on behalf of the AllCouncils with regard to the Yew Family and the Yew Residence.” A beating pause. “Which of my topics do you wish to speak to me about first?”
Lo
ri swallowed. “Draeg. How is he?”
“Poorly. He grieves. He works at the Sallows’.” Another pause. “Occasionally he stalks trouble in the city . . . and finds it.”
She could only think to say, “I’m sorry.”
“We all are. Especially Tinne Holly, whose plan it was for him to infiltrate you—the Yews. Both T’Holly, Tinne’s father, and I have wrenched promises from Tinne that he would not bother you. Otherwise you’d’ve found him on your doorstep. Maybe his whole Family, too.”
“I appreciate your restraint.”
“Lori Valerian, do you love my son?” T’Blackthorn snapped the order.
“Yes,” she replied without thinking, then bit her lip, sniffed back tears, and met his gaze. “Yes, I believe I do.” Her turn to hesitate. “Does he love me?”
“Yes, indeed he does. How long are you going to inflict this suffering upon both of you?”
“If I . . . if I contacted him and . . . told him I forgave him”—she hadn’t known until that instant that she had, that time had mended that wound—“and asked him to come and join me, would he?”
T’Blackthorn nodded. “He would. We, his Family, would be sad he is so far from us, but he should be with you.”
“Does he love Yew estate?”
“He did and he does,” T’Blackthorn stated flatly. “But he has not returned there since the day you and your herd left.” The GrandLord smiled humorlessly. “Plenty of the rest of us have been back there, trying to fix things, but not Draeg.”
Her face felt wet and she scrubbed at it, then realized she wept. “I hurt,” she said, then cringed.
T’Blackthorn’s expression softened. “You’ve had a lot of pain in your life.” Another pause. “But you escaped a toxic environment, reached for and found your freedom. I congratulate you and I am proud of you.”
Her mouth fell open. She didn’t think anyone had said that to her in her life.
“You’ve made a new life; are you happy in it, Loridana?”
Heart Legacy Page 34