“Yes. I know it’s illegal to tell him, and I won’t.”
“I hadn’t thought Cratag had the Fl—” T’Hawthorn stopped before he made a rude personal comment.
“I connected briefly with him during my Passage,” Signet continued. “Though I didn’t make a HeartGift, I’m sure he’s my HeartMate.”
“A lot of that going around,” T’Hawthorn muttered.
“Pardon?”
He didn’t answer, so she went on, “I would be glad to have a full consultation with T’Willow, the matchmaker, to prove it.”
Again there was a silence as they scrutinized each other. Finally T’Hawthorn threw up a hand in a fencer’s gesture, conceding the fight, then smiled. She’d never seen such a charming smile from him. Saved for his Family, she thought.
He said, “Cratag is there after all. Destiny has a way of arranging things. I’m sorry to lose my best guard and a member of my Family to you, but I am happy that he has a HeartMate and has found her.” The lord actually sounded a little wistful, then his smile flashed again. “I will welcome an alliance with you, D’Marigold.” He inclined his head.
Signet’s throat had tightened. This had been easier than she’d expected. “Thank you.”
The cat stretched and hopped off the desk, out of sight. T’Hawthorn tapped his fingers together. “Now how is that other situation affecting Cratag and you?”
Behind her the door opened, and Cratag walked in, lines in his face showing that he’d suffered through the Healing. She looked at his hand. His bones had knit, but his skin appeared pink and tender.
He smiled at her, not much more than a twitch of his lips, and his eyes were serious. Then he came up behind her and put an arm around her shoulders. She turned into his body.
T’Hawthorn said, “I understand that Avellana Hazel has returned to your Residence?”
“That’s right,” Cratag said.
“Her Flair levels are still quite low,” Signet said. “I’m not sure how long it will take before they increase again to trigger her next Passage fugue.”
Nodding, T’Hawthorn said, “It occurs to me that you both may need additional help.” He waved a hand. “Physical or mind Healers. Ask and it will be provided.”
“Thank you,” Signet said. “But I think it best if we continue as we’ve begun—”
“—We don’t want to scare Avellana with a bunch of new people,” Cratag fiinished. “We can handle this.”
“If you’re sure. . .” T’Hawthorn said.
“We have the Residence, too,” Cratag said. “It’s a force to be reckoned with.”
“They always are,” T’Hawthorn murmured. He stared at them for a moment then said the formal ending blessing, “Merry meet.”
“And merry part,” Signet and Cratag said together.
“And merry meet again,” T’Hawthorn said. The droplets over the scrybowl misted away in a violet haze, and the water cleared.
Signet let out a breath and leaned into her solid lover, who seemed to want to cradle her, reassuring them both. “That is one formidable man.” She looked up at Cratag, shook her head. “I don’t know how you put up with him all these years.”
“You get used to him,” Cratag said. He bent down and pressed a quick but passionate kiss on her lips.
Signet grabbed onto his shoulders, enjoyed the feel of him . . . the steadiness that was back in his emotions, the ease of their link. Then she stepped away and glanced around her light and airy suite. T’Hawthorn’s Residence had shown deep stone blocks and dark tapestries, dark wooden paneling, and heavy furniture. She smiled at Cratag and looked at the portrait of her parents, slight people with cheery expressions, appearing sophisticated and with little on their minds except each other and living well. “I think I like my Family and Residence better.”
So do I, she heard from Cratag and didn’t know whether it was a private thought or not.
Signet was worried about Cratag.
Despite what he’d told T’Hawthorn, and the light manner he used with her and Avellana, Cratag was brooding. She’d experienced it enough herself to recognize the mood, and she wasn’t used to it from him. Even Beadle’s antics couldn’t bring more than a brief smile to his face.
He’d accepted the events at T’Ash’s Residence, Avellana’s new Flair, and the new circumstances surrounding them all and moved on, like a true pragmatic guardsman. So that wasn’t the problem bothering him. Signet was sure he wasn’t missing his rooms at T’Hawthorn Residence or T’Hawthorn and the Family themselves, except for Laev.
Laev was the concern.
Cratag was grieving for the boy he’d lost when Laev had become a young man. Or rather, he’d have grieved less if the teen hadn’t seemed to forget about him while in the throes of first love.
Laev had stopped visiting and didn’t scry. That annoyed Signet.
So she decided to do something about it. She contacted T’Hawthorn Residence and asked for Laev’s daily schedule. She was only a little surprised that she was given the information, but it gave her a small glow. T’Hawthorn had believed her when she’d said she was Cratag’s HeartMate! More, the GreatLord had meant it when he’d said he’d accept an alliance with her.
That afternoon she set up an outing to the very upscale Enlli Gallery where Laev would be. Getting out would fight Cratag’s depression . . . didn’t she know that from personal experience? Avellana needed distracting, too. Vinni’s Family hadn’t allowed him to leave his estate since the bannister fiiasco. A punishment for both children that was especially hard since the days were now warm and lovely, perfect for expeditions. Still, Signet thought the two were in constant mental contact. The Hazels had made it clear that no one should take Avellana to T’Vine Residence. Not that Signet had ever shown up where she hadn’t been invited in her entire life.
Though that could change if she thought there was good reason for such a breach of manners. She was doing all sorts of different things nowadays that she hadn’t considered before.
She’d never felt so independent and free and happy. But Cratag wasn’t happy, and that dimmed her own pleasure.
So she and Cratag and Avellana teleported to the main pad of the Enlli Gallery—Fams, especially cats, were not welcome there—and nearly missed Laev and Nivea Sunflower, who were waiting for them to step off the teleportation pad so they could use it. Laev had a harried expression on his face and held several bundles in the gallery’s expensive wrapping.
“Why, look who’s here!” Signet thought she managed a good start of surprise. Cratag narrowed his eyes. She rushed into speech. “Laev, so nice to see you.” She turned with her most charming smile to the young woman, holding out a hand. “I’ve seen you, but we’ve never been introduced. I’m GrandLady Signet D’Marigold, an ally of the Hawthorns.”
Both Laev and Cratag did their own minor starts of surprise at that. But they’d know she’d spoken the truth through their mingled bonds. Let that fact divert them.
Touching Signet’s hand and dipping a proper curtsy in just the right degree, Nivea smiled. She sent Cratag a quick glance that seemed calculating to Signet, then stepped back as she got a good look at his facial scars. Nivea swallowed and said, “And you’re Cratag, aren’t you! I’ve been wanting to meet more of Laev’s Family.” The lilt in her voice was forced.
Avellana sniffed, and Signet believed she was about to comment, so thought quickly. “There’s a wonderful café just down the street, The Three Goblets. Why don’t I treat us to tea?” A very elegant, very exclusive, very expensive café.
Now everyone stared at her.
“You need reservations for a month for that café,” Laev mumbled as if he hesitated to contradict her, with an unspoken, mental grumble that he’d tried to make reservations and had been turned down—HawthornHeir!
“I never need reservations,” Signet said. That was also utterly true. Her parents had been close friends with the noble owners, who were always glad to see her. They’d also been worried about her, r
eady to pamper her and lift her spirits if she came by. They would be thrilled to meet Cratag and with the gossip potential.
At that moment the owner of the Enlli Gallery, GrandSir Apple, bustled up to Signet, both hands out. She gave him hers, and he squeezed them—another friend of her Family. “Dear Signet, it’s been too long since you’ve visited.” He nodded to the rest of them, then turned back to her. “I have that antique-type oil painting of my father’s that you requested we clean.”
Signet flushed. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot!” She let her grin break through. “I’ve been very busy.” Unlike previously.
GrandSir Apple kissed her hands. “And I completely understand.” He cocked an eyebrow at Cratag.
“Let me introduce you to a very good friend of mine, Cratag Maytree, Chief of T’Hawthorn’s Guards. Have you met GreatMistrys Avellana Hazel?”
There was a round of acknowledgments, and Signet took her hands back when she noticed Cratag glowering. GrandSir Apple was old enough to be her father, but like all the Apples, he was handsome and wore his age well.
Laev eyed her as if reevaluating her. So he hadn’t given her much weight as a serious person. Her Family wasn’t known for significant ambitions, but there was something to be said for being able to procure restaurant or theater seats at any time. “I’ll pick up that painting next week,” Signet assured Apple. “We’re on our way to The Three Goblets. Could you call the Trilliums and let them know we’re coming?”
A bow from Apple. “Pleased to do so, and mind you do pick that painting up. It was a new medium of my father’s, and he would fiddle with it if he knew I had it.”
“Oh, don’t let him do that! I like it very much as it is. He captured the misty colors of spring at the Great Labyrinth so well.” With a last smile at Apple, she turned to Nivea. “I heard that you recently visited the Great Labyrinth? A wonderful place, isn’t it?” Signet gave a little sigh. “I’ve been derelict in the upkeep of our marigold flower beds and they are prolifiic, though I should check on our sundial. What part of all the noble Family offerings did you like best?”
“T’Hawthorn’s hedges were in bloom. . .” Nivea rambled on about the trip as Signet got them all out of the gallery and shepherded them down the sidewalk. The street was unusually busy with a small stream of people showing off their new, gleaming Family gliders purchased this spring. She’d forgotten that annual tradition, but then her Family had never been interested in having the latest glider unless the comfort quotient had greatly increased.
When they reached The Three Goblets and were welcomed enthusiastically, everyone seemed impressed, except Cratag, so she sent him an amused smile from under her lashes along with a command of Enjoy yourself!
She ordered everyone’s favorite beverages and consulted Nivea on her preferences.
A septhour and a half passed pleasantly entertaining Nivea—Signet had sent Avellana a look to ensure the girl joined in the proper female duty—and Cratag and Laev fell back into their easy pattern of companionship. Signet was happy to see that he was listening to Laev, feeling appreciated, and it seemed as if Laev had plenty to say.
Signet kept the occasion short enough that they were all satisfied with the company and themselves and full of good food and fancy caff—cocoa for Avellana. They rose from the table, smiling. She was congratulating herself on a successful afternoon when they left the café with a bunch of other patrons and entered the busy sidewalk. Some jostling went on.
“Watch who you’re shoving,” Nivea shrilled.
But she wasn’t the one who toppled off the sidewalk into the street in front of an oncoming glider.
That was Avellana.
Twenty-nine
Signet watched in horror as Cratag dove for the child, putting himself between her and the gliders. The vehicles didn’t go fast. When one bumped him, it stopped and set down its stands. Cratag and Avellana fllew a meter. They hit the ground, Cratag tucked around the girl, rolling. Cratag staggered to his feet, holding Avellana with one arm. His other shoulder looked dislocated. His shirt was dirty and torn, his trous in bad shape. The new celtaroon boots she’d given him didn’t show a scuff.
Nivea was screaming her lungs out, and shouts erupted from others. Signet stood frozen, heart pounding, on the sidewalk.
Vinni materialized in the middle of the street, taking a chance that could have gotten him killed. He ran to Cratag and Avellana.
All the gliders on the street came to a rocking halt. GreatLord T’Holly and his HeartMate emerged from one. As Signet ran panting to Cratag, the GreatLord handed Avellana to his lady, then with quick, practiced movements, reset Cratag’s shoulder.
People poured from the gliders and shops along the street, all talking and milling.
Hanes, Vinni’s bodyguard, ran from the sidewalk near a teleportation area, blazer out. Then half a dozen guardsmen appeared on the teleportation pad and began organizing people. By then Signet had her arms around Cratag and Avellana, and Vinni ’ported them to Primary HealingHall.
They were met by Healers who swarmed around Cratag and Avellana, moving them all into an examination room that was becoming all too familiar.
Cratag’s shirt was discarded, his tendons and muscles were Healed, as well as Avellana’s bruises—and Vinni gone—before her parents burst into the room, followed by Laev. All of the newcomers were pale. The Fams trotted in and hopped onto the table where the girl sat.
The Hazels gathered Avellana into their arms, making soothing sounds. Rhyz revved his purr. Beadle meowed. Du sniffed.
Frowning, Laev scanned Cratag’s bare torso for bruises, but the Healers had been thorough.
“What happened?” demanded D’Hazel.
“The injuries are Healed,” one of the Healers said. “The cost is—”
“We authorize the transfer of all necessary funds,” T’Hazel said.
The Healer bowed. “Done. Thank you. We anticipate more minor injuries from the glider accident. Please take this conversation to Noble Lounge One.”
Only the best for FirstFamilies. In the ensuing calm, Laev summoned some clothes from T’Hawthorn Residence for Cratag, gave Cratag’s boots an envious stare, glanced at Signet, then said his good-byes. Cratag changed behind a screen, then they all left the examination room, Beadle purring in Cratag’s arms, the other Fams weaving between all their legs.
On their way to the lounge, they picked up an additional person, the guardsman assigned to the highest nobles. They all sat and Cratag gave the guard—and the Hazels—a complete report, including details that Signet hadn’t observed, like all the noble crests on the vehicles he’d seen in the street.
Everyone’s nerves seemed to settle. Avellana was less shook than anyone else, had recovered from the event faster. Signet sensed she was still linked with Vinni though he had returned home.
As soon as the guardsman was gone, D’Hazel said to Signet, “We would like to take Avellana home after this latest misadventure. How are her Flair levels?”
“I’ve been monitoring them,” Signet said with outward calm. She had to force her mind to the question since she felt a little dizzy after all the excitement. “They are naturally increasing, but not to a point where I believe another Passage fugue will occur over the weekend.” Signet’s fin gers were locked with Cratag’s. She needed to touch him.
“I don’t want to go home.” Avellana scowled and crossed her arms. “I’ll be home soon enough tomorrow evening for the weekend. I want to stay with Signet and Cratag. You see what good care they take of me. At home, you smother me. Someone’s always watching.”
“Someone’s always watching you in my home, too,” Signet said.
Avellana stuck out her chin. “Yes, but usually it’s D’Marigold Residence and not a person, and he is very polite, and I hardly ever think of him watching.” She turned to her parents. “Having a person always watching me at home is rude.”
Her mother’s lips compressed. “But we can’t seem to trust you, can we? Not after you
slide down the bannister and. . .”
“And I miss Muin!” Avellana’s voice thickened, her eyes welled with tears. “I barely saw him at all today.”
“You saw Vinni? Where?” asked her father.
Avellana snapped her mouth shut, obviously sensing she’d said too much.
Signet soothed, “Naturally he would have felt Avellana’s danger. He teleported to the scene, as any loved one would have done. As you teleported here to Primary HealingHall.”
“Vinni’s Family is restricting his activities, as you well know,” D’Hazel said. “We are honoring their request that you remain apart.”
Looking away from her mother, Avellana sniffed.
D’Hazel sighed, glanced at her husband. He said, “We will consider speaking to Vinni’s—Muin’s—Family if this weekend passes well with you at home. He may be allowed to return to visiting you at D’Marigold’s on Mor.”
Avellana narrowed her eyes. “And the person watching me? They smirk. They all smirk. Or they’re irritated to be watching me when they want to be assigned a more interesting duty.”
“Avellana!” D’Hazel said.
“Well, it’s true.”
“We will consider your words,” T’Hazel said. “And perhaps ask that the Residence increase its monitoring of your actions instead of a human being.”
Rhyz gave a small mew. Avellana glanced down at him. “All right. I never wanted you to spy for my parents—”
The Hazels winced.
“—but I give you permission to do so until I am through my First Passage.” Avellana pursed her lips then sent her parents a firm look. “I want to discuss a lot after my First Passage. I haven’t forgotten that you said I could have the Second Child’s suite.”
D’Hazel protested, but her HeartMate put a hand on her shoulder and silenced her. “We agree. You’re growing up, so we will discuss this after your First Passage. Right now we want you to come with us.”
“Oh, very well.” Avellana hopped off the twoseat and came over to Signet and Cratag, giving Signet a hug. “I’ll see you on Mor.”
Heart Change Page 27