Heart Change

by Robin D. Owens

  Occasionally Laev would stay for tea, but all were very aware that his Passage could trigger Avellana’s. Laev had had his second Passage fugue after Avellana’s interruption of their sparring match, and once again Cratag had experienced it. The dreamquest had been both shorter and less intense than Avellana’s, and Laev was sure he’d connected with his HeartMate.

  He, too, was growing into his new Flair, the new responsibilities as an adult, and the duties that T’Hawthorn was assigning him. The boy was definitely becoming a man, and developing his own opinions.

  When Cratag consulted Hanes about the amount of sparring Vinni was doing—three times a week in the mornings at the Green Knight Fencing and Fighting Salon with his regular class, often before noon with Avellana, and sometimes in the midafternoon with Laev and Cratag, Hanes gravely said he’d speak with the rest of the Vine Family.

  Neither Vinni nor Cratag cared for that response, and Cratag couldn’t say so, but Hanes was on their side, and Cratag had heard he’d made a good argument for the training. Vinni had the standard lessons for his age by his tutor, but wasn’t apprenticed to anyone. He was already considered a master of his Flair, so after his studies, his days were composed of scheduled appointments like the rest of the FirstFamilies noble lords and ladies.

  Furthermore, the boy was filling out, becoming more muscular and stronger, which pleased the older ladies of his Family. So he was allowed to continue against his tutor’s disapproval. Though neither Vinni nor Hanes said anything, Cratag got the feeling that changes were occurring in the Vine household. Again, this was only natural as Vinni grew, but Cratag couldn’t help believing that part of it was due to Signet’s effect on Vinni. He was maturing.

  So many children growing up made Cratag’s gut twist with pride as well as sorrow at the inevitable passing of time. Not to mention feeling his age.

  On the morning of Koad, the day before the weekend and Playday, Signet swept into the dining room for breakfast as if she hadn’t just rolled out of Cratag’s bed a scant few minutes before. She’d had to resort to a whirlwind spell to cleanse and dress, fast but not too easy on the person who invoked it. “I think that we should have an educational outing today,” she said.

  Cratag winced then let his expression fall back into impassivity. Avellana stopped eating her eggs, looked up, and stuck her lower lip out. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

  Signet just arched her brows and chose a breakfast omelette from the no-time. “That’s too bad. We’ve been light on lessons this week.” The week after Avellana’s first fugue had been a week of rebalancing. “I’ve listened to the daily newssheets announcements, and there is an interesting case being heard by SupremeJudge Ailim Elder herself at JudgementGrove today. Very educational, don’t you think so, Cratag?”

  He was eyeing her as he chewed a slice of porcine. Then he swallowed and said, “I think the only trial I’ve been to was . . .” He stopped. “One involving the new GreatLady Dufleur Willow.” The black magic murders that he didn’t want to mention in front of Avellana.

  Signet’s eyes widened at the reference.

  Avellana fixed her gaze on Cratag. “You’re talking about the black magic cult murders.”

  Twenty-one

  Avellana glanced around the breakfast room, then closed her eyes, opened them, and let out a little sigh. “Rhyz is chasing flutterbys with Du and Beadle in the garden.” With a serious look, she said, “You know he was one of the Fams who lived through that horrible cult ritual. Rhyz was Gib Ginger’s Fam.” Her aura pulsed, and Signet knew Avellana was sending love through her bond with Rhyz. “Vinni’s Fam, Flora, was also one of the victims.”

  “I didn’t know,” Signet said at the same time as Cratag. They shared a look. She should have known, someone should have told her. No wonder Flora had had that dark, horrible memory spot . . . which was now fading until it was barely a spiderweb.

  Avellana nodded solemnly. “That’s why we must always be especially kind to them. And Flora is one of the fir st generation of house-fluffs to get intelligence and Flair.”

  Signet grimaced. “I wish I’d known this earlier.”

  “You have done very well with her,” Avellana said in that tone that meant she was repeating what her mother, the FirstFamily GreatLady, had said.

  That relieved Signet a little. “Thank you.” She glanced at Cratag, who had resumed eating. “But that trial was vized from the FirstFamily Council Chambers. This is JudgementGrove, available for all to watch. Have you ever been before, Avellana?”

  The girl nibbled her lip. “Perhaps when I was a small child,” she said. Her blue eyes widened. “I don’t remember much except that the grove was beautiful and so was the judge.”

  “Hmm.” Signet got the idea that the outing had only been a year ago.

  Cratag was frowning. “We can take a picnic, right?” He sounded as if his own sense of decency was offended.

  “Right.” Signet smiled. “Residence?”

  “Lunch is being prepared. From my understanding of the newssheets and my connection with other Residences, and the starship wherein the SupremeJudge lives, there will be many nobles attending today’s session at JudgementGrove. Also grovestudy groups.”

  “Oh, bigger girls and boys.” Avellana smiled and went back to her food with gusto. “I want to observe grovestudy groups. Maybe . . .” She slanted Signet a look. “ . . . I will not be tutored after First Passage is over. Perhaps I can go to a grovestudy group. Even Vinni didn’t get to go to a grovestudy group.”

  Just that easily a lump came to Signet’s throat. Avellana was hopeful of surviving her Passage, had no doubt. That was new and precious. The fight would be easier, now that she accepted she could, would, win.

  “The case being heard is quite interesting,” the Residence said. “It concerns the salvage rights of a merchant ship full of items from Chinju that sank off the coast one hundred and twenty years ago. The ship master had great Flair, and the wreck and its cargo are remarkably well preserved. The Families involved are the salvager’s, GrandHouse D’Kelp; the ship Captain’s, GrandHouse D’Salip; and several Families who invested in the ship, including the FirstFamily of T’Reed—”

  “The financier. Of course,” muttered Cratag.

  The Residence continued, “—and the GrandLord Alfalfa Family that insured the ship and paid out—”

  “Thank you, Residence, I think that’s enough,” Signet said. Cratag’s eyes were beginning to glaze. Avellana was frowning in concentration. “It will be interesting to hear it firsthand.”

  “Yes, indeed,” the Residence said. “I believe a viz has been rigged.” With a rich chuckle, the Residence said, “I can now be better informed.”

  Cratag blinked, muttered, “You’re always informed on everything.”

  “Thank you, GentleSir Maytree,” the Residence said, then added, “If you wish to find a good spot in JudgementGrove for viewing, I suggest you leave in the next quarter septhour.”

  “So soon?” Signet asked.

  “Indeed,” said the Residence. “I have been informed that the sacred circle will be opened after every case today. Do you want to teleport or go by glider?”

  “Glider,” Signet said.

  “I will send it around,” the Residence said. “It can return after you disembark, and when the day is done you can come back by teleportation or notify me if you want the glider again.”

  “That sounds fine.”

  Cratag pushed away from the table, took his dishes and silverware to the cleanser. “I’ll be right down, meet you in the entryway.”

  He was going to get a weapon. Probably more than one.

  Avellana sent a mental call to the Fams. All the cats replied they were interested in going to JudgementGrove. Rhyz wanted to touch noses with acquaintances, Beadle to explore and look at people and Fams and prey, Du expected to casually visit folk who would admire him and perhaps give him delicacies. Then Avellana rose from the table and placed her dishes in the cleanser. “I nee
d to change.” She hurried—not running—upstairs.

  The girl had been dressed well, if casually. A new habit since the conversation about her training, but she was probably changing to formal clothes as befit a FirstFamily child.

  A notion occurred to Signet. “Are the Hazels planning to attend?” she asked the Residence.

  “One moment, I will check with D’Hazel Residence.”

  Signet set her dishes in the cleansing box, looked around, and said a housekeeping spell to tidy the room into pristine order.

  “The Hazels do not go to JudgementGrove themselves, but members of the household will be there to report.”

  “Ah.”

  “I have been informed that T’Vine and his tutor and Hanes will go to JudgementGrove after his morning studies. He requests that they be allowed to join our party.”

  “Of course.”

  “I will provide two large hampers, with gliding spells. Vinni likes my food better than that at T’Vine Residence,” the D’Marigold Residence stated. Signet wasn’t sure that was true, but smiled at the pride in its voice.

  She was proud of her accomplishments and her companions—lover and Fam and ward—herself. That was reflected in her clothing. She was wearing a subtly patterned golden brocade outfit—full trous cuffed at the ankles with an orange trim and her flower embroidered in rust—and a tunic with the long, rectangular pocket-sleeves that nearly brushed the ground, also trimmed in orange with rust embroidery. Her closely fitted boots were golden with rust-colored flowers outlined up her ankle and one on her toe.

  Without a sound she felt an intensity in the entryway and knew that Cratag had come down the stairs. When she met him in the large room, she saw he, too, had changed into more than casual clothes—these were clothes to be seen in and noted—garments modified for a guardsman and fighter. Light brown knit trous and cream-colored raw silkeen shirt that would keep him warm without any sort of weathershield, shining black leather knee-high boots that could do damage in a fight, a jacket of brown padded silkeen showing a small embroidered hawthorn bush. On one of his hips was a holstered long-nosed utilitarian blazer. On the other was a sheathed broadsword that could only be used by a tall, strong man.

  Then Avellana gave a little cough at the top of the stairs, and when their gazes went to her, she descended with the utmost propriety. Signet saw Cratag suppress a smile.

  Three cats followed her down, Rhyz as dignified as his FamGirl, Du prancing, and Beadle nearly tumbling in his clumsiness.

  Avellana’s hair was smoothly and elaborately braided, a sign that she’d used Flair on it. Her tunic and trous were of the latest style with full legs and long sleeves like Signet’s, though the wide patterned trim on the pale green appeared to be real silver.

  When the girl reached the entryway, she held out a hand to each of them, and Signet was amused to see Cratag’s brows go up as they both went to her instead of having her come to them. Truly, the girl knew how to behave like a GreatLady.

  As soon as Cratag took her hand, he winked at Signet, grinned wickedly, and let out a piercing whistle. Avellana flinched between them, then her eyes widened as two large wicker hampers floated into the room.

  “They’ll follow me,” Cratag said.

  The Residence opened the door and the little party—the small educational outing—proceeded out to the large, waiting D’Marigold Family glider.

  Du exited the glider near JudgementGrove first, charged with finding an appropriate place for them to sit and listen to the case. The sacred circle was open, so Beadle went zooming around with boundless joy, exploring a new, safe place. Rhyz stayed in the glider until Cratag, Signet, and Avellana exited. Signet sent the glider home.

  It was a beautiful day. The sun shone brightly, and the grass was that hue of green only seen in springtime. The trees in the large grove wore pretty pastel blossoms of pink and white.

  It was almost like a Family outing. Her new, temporary, Family . . . Signet had to remind herself. Avellana would return to her home after she’d finished her Passage fugues, and Cratag would go back to being T’Hawthorn’s chief of guards, and their Fams would leave with them. All of them would remain friends, Signet was finally believing that would be true, but they would not be living with her. So she should cherish this “family” outing.

  She couldn’t remember going to the JudgementGrove with her parents—they’d been more inclined to have arts outings, though she’d attended JudgementGrove with her grovestudy groups a couple of times. That had been before Ailim Elder had become the SupremeJudge of Celta.

  They arrived in time to find a good spot in the grove to see the platform and the judge’s desk well. In the time between cases, they spread out a blanket and laid out snacks and drinks.

  The ritual of closing the circle and saying the prayer interested her, but the next case was boring, though Cratag and Avellana listened. A business deal by GraceLords that had gone bad. Signet would rather be in a museum or an art gallery. She began to have doubts about the main case, but a sunken treasure ship had sounded interesting, and the Residence was right, a case with a FirstFamily should always be paid attention to.

  After a couple of minutes, she became aware that their party was under scrutiny by many—GreatLords and Ladies themselves or members of their Families sent to observe. And she, Signet Marigold, was being observed.

  In a discreet, supportive gesture, Cratag touched the small of her back. You are a GrandLady of noted skill, he sent to her mentally. A woman who has saved a FirstFamily’s child’s life.

  Warmth came to Signet’s cheeks, and she looked at her group from under lowered lashes. Du was nearby and munching on a bit of cheese, Rhyz was catnapping, Beadle was slinking through the green grass, his plump black and white body quite evident. He kept to the sunshine and not the shadows.

  Thank you. Let them look, I have nothing to hide, and they might finally *see* me as I am. She’d gone unnoticed in Druidan society for too long. These people would recall that she’d always been invited to FirstFamily rituals and now they would know why. Then she leaned into Cratag and felt his arm come around her. She wasn’t ashamed of their affair. He was a trusted and important member of T’Hawthorn’s household, how could she not value that? But even if he’d been a mercenary guard, just come in from selling his sword to merchants in Brittany, she’d have been proud of him. He was a man of solid character.

  Casually, she picked up a tube of water, glanced around. Most of the FirstFamiles were here, and many of the higher nobles. As others arrived, colorful clothing showed between the white bark and green leaves in a screened circle of birches that was a teleportation area.

  A sharp sound resonated throughout the air, and Signet realized it was the SupremeJudge’s gavel, then the bailiff cleared his throat and intoned, “There will be a half-septhour recess. All rise,” and everyone in the grove did. Without looking at them, the judge went into one of the towers that framed the stage. The sacred circle was dismissed.

  Signet stretched. It hadn’t seemed polite to stand before, though the JudgementGrove appeared less formal than she recalled.

  At that moment she heard a telepathic hail, Greetings, all! Greetyou, Vinni. Laev Hawthorn was loping toward them, waving a hand at Vinni, who was accompanied by Hanes and another man, striding toward them from the opposite side of the grove.

  Laev, Cratag responded, perhaps you should not—

  Signet squeezed his hand. Come join us, Laev. Laev’s Flair was scattered, not building up toward Passage. Another new thing she could sense! Perhaps she could add that to services she could offer, Passage consultation . . . all the glances she’d gotten made her think that she’d be in demand if everything went well.

  She glanced at Avellana, but the child’s Flair was erratic, clumping here and there, shooting off into an aura streak, being absorbed inward.

  “Greetyou, GrandLady D’Marigold,” said a light male voice she didn’t recognize. She refocused her vision and found herself facing a short, plu
mp man with an ingrained smile.

  “My tutor, Arcto, one of the Family, of course,” Vinni said.

  “My pleasure,” Arcto said, bowing with the exact amount of formality that her title demanded.

  “Greetyou, D’Marigold,” Hanes said. He spared her a smile before he went back to scanning the crowd. His blazer was not tied down with a peacebond. Signet glanced at Cratag’s holster and saw it was the one with buttons that only he could draw and fire, a better solution.

  Then Laev arrived and hugged Cratag, bowed to Vinni and Signet and Avellana. As Signet said all the correct courtesies, the babel around them increased. JudgementGrove was packed. Most folk preferred to sit in the lines of trees making up the grove instead of in the middle grassy area, but that was filling up, too.

  Avellana was the first to resume her seat on the blanket, which had multiplied to three blankets, one in T’Vine colors that Arcto was arranging, and another D’Marigold one that Cratag had snapped out.

  A bell tolled from one of the towers, and the bailiff announced that Grove would be in session again in ten minutes.

  They’d arranged themselves by the time the five-minute bell was rung, with Cratag and Hanes in positions that were the most protective. Arcto was actually the busiest—distributing the “nutritious-only” food and drink to the children, pulling softleaves from his bag and murmuring hand-wash spells for them all. He seemed devoted to both Vinni and Avellana. Then the tutor provided the group with a pithy summary of the case that even snagged Signet’s attention.

  Laev stretched out with a bunch of grapes near Cratag. As he watched the parties mount the few steps to the platform, Laev shook his head. “The D’Hawthorn at the time had an investment in that ship. Insured, of course, but we still took a substantial loss.” He snorted. “But we’ve moved on, our fortune and Family is stronger than ever.” He waved to the advocates and their clients on the stage. “What you see up there is pure greed, and the amount those folk are going to get from this action is going to be less than the time they’ve spent messing around with this, and the gilt they’ve paid their advocates.”