“GraceLord T’Equisetum,” said the man, his color fading to pink.
“—such complaint.” He offered the papyrus to T’Equisetum. Who didn’t take them.
“I, as a duly sworn member of the Druida City Guard, a subsidiary of the Celtan Planetary Peace Keeping Force, do stand as proxy for Hyemale T’Equisetum and accept—” Winterberry began the litany.
“Just give it to me.” T’Equisetum took the papyrus packet and crushed them in his fingers. “I deny all charges.”
Winterberry nodded. “So noted. It would be helpful if you, and your cuz Arvense Equisetum, voluntarily share your memories of the night that mobs firebombed GraceLord T’Mugwort’s home and other Hopefuls’ abodes.”
T’Equisetum shrugged. “I can’t recall that particular night.”
Tiana thought she heard a lie, and from the glances between the members of the Lords and Ladies in the first row of seats, they had, too.
Winterberry, face expressionless, said, “It’s done.” Nodding to Tiana, he asked, “Do you need a Healer, FirstLevel Priestess?”
“No. Thank you.” Again she touched her cheek where only a lingering sting stayed . . . more due to memory than actual bruising.
“Good,” T’Ash said. A click came. Tiana realized that he’d snapped the cover over his blazer, then shuddered a little that he’d been ready to use two weapons. She wasn’t the only one who trembled.
“I don’t know about you, Tiana—” T’Ash began.
She jolted at her name on his lips.
“—but Danith and I want to go look at the machines from Nuada’s Sword building the Hopeful cathedral. Our glider is out in front. We’re taking all the children for the educational experience,” he said indulgently, “and Laev T’Hawthorn, too. Camellia D’Hawthorn made us—and you—a picnic lunch.”
Danith D’Ash linked arms with Tiana. “Come on, let’s get out of this stuffy old place,” the GreatLady said with the disdain of a person with great Flair and of the highest status.
Yowls and roars came from the open doorway to the marble corridor.
“Catfight!” someone shouted.
“Zanth!” T’Ash bellowed.
“Felonerb.” Tiana sighed.
* * *
Tiana and Felonerb ended up being transported to the cathedral site on the Varga Plateau in a GreatCircle Temple glider once more assigned to her. Eventually she’d learn the light and venue well enough to teleport there, but it would take daily visits. She didn’t think anyone except the Chief Ministers, Antenn, and perhaps some of his crew could teleport there now.
She stood a few minutes in awe with other newcomers and just stared at gigantic machines oddly silhouetted in black and gray and green and rust against the bright blue sky. Lifting huge blocks from a line of cut stones that just appeared due to some sort of ancient Earthan all-tech transport system. Fast transport system, as fast as a Flaired thought. Machines trundled or glided the massive stones to the trenches, delicately placing them. Then people would swarm down and measure, have them adjusted in tiny ways she couldn’t distinguish, and continue on.
Soon her training—and her desire to be near Antenn, help Antenn—kicked in and she hurried over to see him explain something with gestures that he’d already used five times on different groups. She listened to him, and he seemed to calm when she showed up, and then he referred them to Dani Eve Elder or Captain Ruis Elder. The group rarely trudged over to the two nulls, who would suppress any inherent Flair they had. And even less rarely approached one of the Intersection of Hope—Hopeful—ministers.
After a few minutes Tiana understood the construction process and led informational tours, including speaking to the Chief Ministers. After a while, her good friend PublicLibrarian Glyssa Licorice Bayrum appeared and helped her.
Whenever anyone expressed interest in the ritual that evening, Tiana handed them all four papyrus sheets—and if she saw a page fly across the plain in the wind, she snatched it back.
In the late afternoon, two trios of Earth Mages began to work in concert with the machines, and after WorkEnd Bell sounded in distant Druida City, a flood of people who hadn’t been able to attend during the day showed up to watch.
By sunset, two full tiers of granite blocks, with the special mortar between, had been laid along the entire outline of the cathedral. They didn’t reach the lip of the trenches but were sufficient that all the FirstFamily GreatLords and Ladies who’d deigned to visit had told her the stones would hold a strong spellshield. This would be just the first spellshield, and particular to the granite. When the limestone and foam metal girders—that came from the starship Nuada’s Sword’s storage—were placed, there would be additional security spells.
Everyone felt that there couldn’t be too many since GraceLord T’Equisetum, as a member of the Traditionalist Stance movement, had denounced it and the Hopefuls.
* * *
So. Lucky.
* * *
Antenn had been so lucky that day, and every time he’d had that thought he muttered a prayer to the Lord and Lady. Laying the foundation had gone more smoothly and quickly than he’d even originally scheduled.
Both Captain Ruis Elder and Dani Eve Elder worked with him on setting up the even flow of the transport of granite from the quarry and the careful placing of blocks in the trenches. He sweated now—and his bespelled clothes absorbed the sweat and negated any smell—just thinking about the whole thing. The Elders had treated him with respect, and they knew their stuff—the workings and capabilities of their machines.
Most of Druida City, including about half of the FirstFamilies Lords and Ladies—twelve of them—had turned out to watch the colonists’ machines that had built their city in magnificent action.
At first he’d been pestered, by the Chief Ministers with whom he had to smooth over the absence of Apex Mage Builders, then by every Lord or Lady who had a nodding acquaintance with him.
Tiana had shown up and been an amazing help as a liaison in every way with every group. Glyssa Licorice Bayrum had pitched in.
Then two subcontractors had shown up, impressed with the machines and the Elders and wanting part of the action. One had been a firm Antenn had called in desperation near dawn, the other three were partners that had split from GraceLord T’Pulicaria and Apex.
Antenn had crossed his arms and let the two underbid each other for the day’s project. Both of them wanted contact with the Elders, wanted to be considered for any other jobs the Elders and Nuada’s Sword might get from this demonstration. In the end, Antenn had been able to hire them both.
Lucky.
Now the sun dipped under the horizon and he was going back to the Turquoise House, who admired him, with his lover. His HeartM—no, he couldn’t think of that right now. He couldn’t afford to let any great emotions overwhelm him at such a thought.
He checked the temporary, very minor alarm spellshield he’d set around the perimeter of the trenches, went over their duties with the six private guards he’d hired to patrol the area before everyone returned for the ritual. Then he called to Tiana, Pinky, and Felonerb to take her glider back to TQ with him.
If his luck continued to hold tonight, he’d get sex and food before returning in a septhour and a half to participate in the ritual.
Their Fams’ meeting had been brief and bloody, with each cat pretending he’d won the fight, though Antenn and Tiana had separated them. To everyone’s surprise, both Fams knew the rules laid down by Danith D’Ash at sharing a home and their persons . . . and neither Pinky nor Felonerb wanted to break those. Mostly, Antenn thought, because Felonerb hadn’t gotten a special Fam collar from his FamWoman and Pinky wanted a new one. Whatever worked.
He and Tiana sat in the glider with Felonerb and Pinky between them, but hand in hand. The cats ignored each other and the sexual tension between himself and his HeartMate rose higher and higher. He drew circles on her palms with his fingertips, unable to help himself.
When they reached the do
or, the cats shot around the House to the back grassyard and he and Tiana bolted for her bedroom. Again.
Then he just stood, framing her lovely face with his hands and staring at her, letting all his emotions show, especially his need.
His craving.
He had to look at her, cherish this watching of her as the sun slipped away and shadows contoured her beauty.
“I’m dusty,” she said on a quiet breath.
“So am I. Don’t care.” He drew her close, close, close, so he could feel her body against his, the softness of her breasts and belly against his chest and shaft. The most wonderful sensation since he’d left her that morning.
Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tight. His. As no woman had ever been his. A dangerous feeling, almost threatening, that could rip him into pieces. He disregarded it.
She hugged him back and the lifting of her arms, the arching of her body caressed his sex, and he fought to say words through ragged need. “Gotta have you. Now. Terrible day. Lucky day. Cave of the Dark Goddess, it was strange.”
“Yes.”
He vaguely recalled he should ask her about something but couldn’t think of it. Could only manage his thick fingers undoing the tabs in her clothes and kissing her neck where her essential fragrance tempted him.
“Sorry,” he said gutturally. “Gotta be quick.”
“Yes.”
“And hard.”
“Yes.”
Thought evaporated. This time he couldn’t let go of her, of her skin under his hands as all their clothes fell away, not even to throw her on the bed. Instead he walked her back, nibbling up her neck along her jaw. When she ran into the bed he pushed her back, took her mouth, and as her legs opened, he thrust inside her.
Wet. Ready for him. A whimper of delight from her.
Fabulous. He groaned, long. His cock thickened.
Couldn’t talk. Knew he wouldn’t last long, wanted to give her tenderness. He rose to look her in the eyes. Hadn’t ever cared about seeing a woman as he had sex with her.
But not sex, now. More. Not love. Not yet. But more than sex.
The bond between them throbbed strongly, red with desire. With a jolt that cleared his brain a bit, in his mind’s eye he saw the famous golden coil of the HeartBond! Couldn’t be, could it? So soon? Too soon!
She shifted under him, lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, and that was it.
Only plunging inside her, again and again. Looking at her eyes that watched him. Gazes locked. Bond pushing feelings back and forth, passion.
“So. Good,” she said.
And his control snapped and they moved together, strained together, whirled through a cyclone together. He saw her eyes go wide. His own blurred and only the rocking slide of skin against skin, the pulsing bond, mattered. They broke into ecstasy, holding each other.
Long minutes later, she murmured a couplet and they rolled, but he kept his grip on her. They settled against the pillows at the top of the bed. He couldn’t say anything. Didn’t want to say anything. That she didn’t need to fill the silence with chatter pleased him.
He didn’t deserve her, though he felt the cycling of their emotions as if they were true equals, meant for each other.
Most emotions. He frowned, considered her. Some of her emotions seemed thready. What—?
His perscry pebble alarmed in obnoxious pulses. He jerked to sit. “Damn. That’s the guard at the cathedral site.”
Thirty-four
She hopped to her feet. “Lady and Lord.” That was a quiet moan. “Not another Whirlwind Spell.”
The thought hadn’t occurred; he hated those. Most men didn’t bother with them. But he’d learned it. Because his mother was fussy Mitchella D’Blackthorn.
“Right. Block scry. This is Blackthorn-Moss.”
“Better get here, Boss. Got an interesting situation.”
Not something any man wanted to hear from a guard. “On my way.” He cut the scry. “Whirlwind Spell, twinmoons ritual robe!” Damn, damn, damn, fligger! Rasped clean, skin stinging, especially the skin of his favorite part of his body, then a soft loincloth wrapped a little too tight. A heavy blue robe draped around him.
Between gritted teeth, he said, “I don’t like that.”
She sighed, looking perfect and immaculately groomed in a bright yellow gown, hair falling simply to her shoulders. “No one does.” She took his hand. “You can teleport?”
“Yeah. Privacy off. Turquoise House, can you send the Temple glider to the cathedral site?”
“Yes, Antenn.”
“Tiana and I are leaving now to deal with an urgent situation.”
“Good luck,” TQ said.
“Thanks. On three.” Antenn took her hand, counted down, and then they were there, in one of the two designated teleportation areas.
Three guards holding three men stood only a few meters away.
Antenn strode up. “What’s the problem here?”
The burliest guard jerked his chin at the man he held. “Perimeter alarm went off. We came running, found these fliggers.” The guard’s gaze went past Antenn. “Beg pardon for my language, FirstLevel Priestess.”
“Not at all,” Tiana soothed.
“They said they belong to the Traditionalist Stance movement,” one of the other guards added. He snorted. “Don’t know whether or not that’s true, but they had their privates outta their trous and looked like they was trying to pee in the trenches.”
Tiana gasped. “Desecrate the Intersection of Hope cathedral?”
“Yes, FirstLevel Priestess.”
“That is . . . that is . . . just so wrong.”
“Call for backup to take your place, then take them to the guardhouse and file complaints against them.”
“Hey, man, wait. It was just a little fun. Nothing to be concerned about. Just the Cross Folk church. Nothin’ special!” one of the men whined.
The biggest one broke away, pushed at the guards and Antenn. Hot blood flooded Antenn’s veins. A different kind of release for this day tempted. He waded into the general melee, and in a few minutes, guards and violators were gone.
He’d just risen from the dust and flashed a grin at Tiana, who’d calmly watched the fracas, when the four Chief Ministers teleported in.
It was later than Antenn thought.
Tiana went to intercept them and she and the ministers dropped deep into conversation. Religious professionals discussing their business . . . ceremonies. Slowly, the five of them began circumnavigating the cathedral, as if none of them had been there that entire day.
Antenn guessed the number of onlookers had cramped their style when considering all the details that the rite might have.
Before they’d returned, he’d briefed the newer guards, and participants in the rite began to show up.
Tiana joined him, holding stacks of the papyrus prompts for the four different parts and appearing distracted.
Then Chief Minister Custos sounded a gong, letting folk know that the ritual would begin in half a septhour and a familiar voice hailed them, and Antenn turned to smile at Vinni T’Vine and Vinni’s fiancée and HeartMate—Antenn swallowed at the designation—Avellana Hazel.
The gong brought Tiana from last-minute memorization of her part to scan the goodly amount of people—perhaps a hundred and twenty—who’d shown up to take part in the Intersection of Hope’s ritual to set spellshields in the foundation. People only—the Chief Ministers hadn’t allowed Fams because none of them had Fams.
She recognized GreatLord T’Vine, the prophet, walking toward her and Antenn. She thought he was near in age to Antenn, but he appeared older—especially his expression and the shadows in his eyes. A young woman accompanied him, fingers intertwined with his.
“Greetyou, Antenn,” T’Vine said, then smiled at Tiana. “A pleasure to meet you again, FirstLevel Priestess.”
Tiana had been introduced to him a while back when she’d still been a ThirdLevel Priestess.
T’Vin
e said, “May I introduce you to my fiancée, Avellana Hazel?”
Avellana inclined her torso slightly. “Greetyou, FirstLevel Architect Blackthorn-Moss.”
Antenn bowed. “It’s been a while.”
In a colorless voice, Avellana said, “Yes. Muin says the plague is completely eradicated from Druida City and won’t come back. He’s allowed me to return.”
“And this is FirstLevel Priestess Tiana Mugwort,” Antenn said smoothly.
Turning to Tiana, Avellana curtseyed. “Greetyou, FirstLevel Priestess Mugwort. It is an honor to meet you. And I thank you for inviting me to such an interesting event.”
“I’m glad you’re attending,” Tiana said, “and I’m sure the Chief Ministers are also. The more people who participate in the ritual, the less confusion and ignorance there will be about the Intersection of Hope faith in those hearts and minds.”
“Also, the spellshields will be stronger,” Antenn said.
T’Vine inclined his head. “Always a consideration.” He scanned the area like a nobleman checking to see who of his allies had come and who had not shown up, and Tiana thought he’d used his influence to draw people to the ritual. Nerves about her work crawled under her skin.
“Looks like a good showing—” T’Vine began.
“Please hush, Muin,” Avellana interrupted.
He did. Tiana looked at her and noted that Antenn’s gaze had slid to her, too. Avellana let go of T’Vine’s hand and dipped her own into one of the long rectangular sleeve pockets of a formal gown that cost about five times the amount of Tiana’s best. The young woman drew out four sheets of unfolded papyrus, copies of the four parts of the ritual. She fanned them out, stared at Tiana, and gave them a little shake. “I understand that you wrote this ritual, FirstLevel Priestess Mugwort.”
Tiana nodded. “Yes, along with my mother, who is a member of the Intersection of Hope Church.”
Heart Fire (Celta Book 13) Page 30