Again he fumbled to put feelings into words. “And you’re not just a few nights’ lover, Glyssa . . . I never forgot you. You’re a forever kind of person, Glyssa, and the HeartBond is a forever bond. I’m not used to forever kinds of people or HeartBonds and I’m not ready.”
Her brown eyes drilled him as she kept her gaze matched with his. “I don’t think this is too much to ask. I want you to come with me.”
And that shot him back into the past. His mother’s demands had always started, “I want you . . .” She’d never asked what his father or he wanted. And that last time, she’d demanded “You must!” How often did “I want you . . .” escalate into “You must . . . !”? He didn’t know, had tried hard to avoid finding out.
Glyssa wasn’t his mother, either, but her words echoed in his head and reminded him of all the bad times, dark thoughts clouded his mind, blackened his emotions. He shook his head but couldn’t dispel them. “I’m sorry. I won’t fit in. I can’t be what your Family will expect me to be.”
Now she flushed. “They won’t expect anything—”
“Won’t they? Didn’t they call you back to judge you? You bring me and they’ll judge me, too, think I’m not good enough for you. I’m not wealthy, I’m not noble.” He stood and offered his hand. “This is your career you’re defending. You’d have to defend me, too.” She would, she’d stand up for him and might even earn more demerits or whatever from her friends and Family and that would hurt her. Hurt, because of him.
“You’re my HeartMate!”
He slanted her a look. “I can barely think of that . . . that concept.” He slapped his chest. “And I sure don’t know what it means here.”
She rose, too, but didn’t clasp her fingers in his, met his eyes again. “You’re more important to me than my career.”
“I don’t even have a career,” he said bluntly. “I have jobs. One in particular right now.” He had little to offer her.
“You bought shares.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ll stay, that any of us here who bought shares will stay. I know your career is important to you.” He sucked in a breath. “And I know you . . . want . . . me there with you. But that doesn’t feel like the right decision for me now . . . and I’m not sure it’s a good one for you, either.”
Her mouth set. “You don’t know my Family.”
He heard what she didn’t say. “And I don’t know you well, either. I understand that. And I understand that we might know each other better if I go with you to Druida City. But it seems to me we’d be under a lot of pressure.”
She stared at him, repeated, “You don’t know my Family.”
Irritation flashed. “I know families can trap you!” He jerked a gesture at her. “Look, they have your whole future in their hands, a career you love and you have to follow their rules. They put pressure on you. They manipulate you. They use you to fulfill their own wants. Just like my mother used me.” Nausea welled as he recalled how his mother had used him, drained him, and hadn’t cared whether he’d lived or died. Had used his father to the death and discarded him.
She shook her head. “My Family loves me!”
“Love is a lie.” His mother had told his father often enough that she loved him, even told Jace all through his childhood when he’d wanted to please her as much as his father did. Family relationships were hard to overcome, and most didn’t look healthy to him. Not that he would know healthy.
“No, love is not a lie.” She swallowed, then yelled to their Fams. “We’re going now, come on!”
Zem was decorating his nest, and Lepid began running back.
Later, Jace didn’t watch as she and the fox left in the airship.
* * *
As soon as the small ramp descended, Glyssa saw her friends and two tough-looking men, one older and the other in his twenties. She held back Maxima from running until Camellia called, “It’s all right, it’s FirstFamily GrandLord T’Blackthorn and his cuz, Draeg Betony Blackthorn.”
Glyssa let go of the girl’s arm and Maxima raced toward the older man and jumped into his arms. T’Blackthorn gave Glyssa a nod, then his face broke into a grin and he tossed the girl up in the air as if she was three instead of a teen, and Maxima giggled like that, too.
Then Glyssa was swamped by her friends Camellia D’Hawthorn and Tiana Mugwort and they all talked at once and cried. Lepid bolted from his basket and yipped and circled them, jumping to lick a hand or some fingers.
The Comosums walked right by them to an elegant Family glider.
Glyssa took a deep breath. The air in Druida City smelled different than the plains and forest of the excavation site with a hint of Jace spice when he was near.
During the glider trip to the workday-empty D’Licorice Residence and their long gabfest in Glyssa’s suite, she detailed every little thing about Jace to her friends. They shared a glance, but said nothing about her HeartMate. Then they quizzed her about the events at the camp and the looks of Lugh’s Spear, and her studies, ate goodies from Glyssa’s sitting room no-time, and laughed and cried some more and shared a tiny three-person ritual of welcome homecoming and gratitude for a safe journey.
Glyssa promised to have dinner with Camellia and her HeartMate Laev the next evening, but Tiana said she couldn’t make it. As Glyssa walked her friends to the main teleportation pad in the common Family library, both she and Camellia nagged at Tiana for putting in too many hours at the Temple.
Then her friends were gone and the quiet of the shabby house enveloped her, even as her ears rang with the last of their laughter.
Greetyou, Residence, Glyssa said. She’d said it as they’d walked in, but absently.
Greetyou, Glyssa, SecondLevel Librarian, it replied austerely.
She winced. The Residence wasn’t overly formal in furnishings—bordered on the old and comfortable—though the Family had plenty of gilt. But it reflected its owners and Glyssa had been drilled on courtesy. “I am pleased to be home, Residence.” Even as she said that, she wondered if it were true.
I am pleased to have you back—its tones unbent. It was quite interesting hearing about the excavation of Lugh’s Spear and the encampment.
Of course it had listened, and now it knew everything about how she felt about Jace, and that he was her HeartMate. But it had heard all of the individual Family members’ secrets and rarely told anyone, unless it spoke to her mother, who was discreet as the house.
D’Licorice and T’Licorice already knew your HeartMate was Jace Bayrum.
Glyssa hadn’t thought her father would lose much time winnowing that bit of information out and telling her mother.
I believe their feelings were hurt that you didn’t confide in them. Another wince. She’d been pretty closemouthed within these walls, too, didn’t think the Residence had known. “I’m sorry, and I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. My emotions seemed too huge to talk about, and too chaotic to frame in good words.”
You are forgiven.
“Thank you.”
The Residence said, However, we have found very little information about this Jace Bayrum. We only have some data on the jobs that he took for the merchant guild, and notations about his work at the excavation. We have viewed all the copies of the vizes from that venture.
So they knew what he looked like. “I am exhausted, Residence. Traveling such a distance shouldn’t be so wearying, but it is.”
Go rest now.
“Thank you, Residence.” Impulsively she stroked the molding around her bedroom door. “I love you, Residence.”
I love you, too, Glyssa. Take a nap.”
When she stepped into her bedroom, she noted the Flair glow in her personal safe. The HeartGift she’d made for Jace. She sank onto the bedsponge and stared, recalling the sweaty time of Passage at seventeen. She’d taken a huge piece of Flaired papyrus—two meters square—and folded a large piece of origami for her HeartMate.
In the shape of a hawkcel in flight.
She’d been right no
t to take the delicate HeartGift to the site. The size of it—seventy-five centimeters—would have dominated any room of her pavilion, especially since a HeartGift always needed to be spellshielded against the lust it engendered.
And she’d have been tempted to give the piece to Jace. Especially after he had a hawkcel Fam. Smiling, she wondered what Zem would make of the thing. She hadn’t tinted it, the origami remained the original beige of the papyrus, but she could . . .
No, not now.
Lady and Lord, it wouldn’t have fit well in Jace’s tent.
Her reunion with her parents wasn’t as easy or joyful as with her friends or the Residence, much more constrained. Nobody mentioned Jace.
She ached for him, more than sex, just for his tender stroking after they’d made love, their spooning together.
Loneliness ate at her, and anger. The wretched man wasn’t ready. After . . . well, a couple of weeks. She’d thought she was good at patience. She was wrong.
* * *
For Jace, that night without Glyssa, missing her, was hideous. And even as his mind ran and ran all the excuses, explanations he’d given her—and they still sounded pretty good—he literally hurt at the distance between them.
It wasn’t only sex. There was a . . . comfort about her that he missed. Comfort. He wouldn’t call it anything more that might frighten him, bind him.
Comfort was precious enough. More than he’d ever gotten from his family, except for a rough rub of his head from his father now and then. More than he’d even wanted from any other lover.
Grimly, Jace filled the next day with work. The starship, Nuada’s Sword, and the Elder Family had included several patterns for the communications arrays. Since Raz and Del had grimly closed off the hole to Lugh’s Spear, it was either digging or moving strange-looking metal things around. Just one design took all of the rest of the day that Glyssa and Lepid left.
Jace supposed he should have been grateful he’d been assigned to the moving team, but he’d awakened grumpy from no sex and no Glyssa in his—or him in her—bed.
Zem preened in the sunlight atop one of the tallest metal tree poles. He helped ensure the pattern was correct. Jace was rolling the muscle strain out of his shoulders when Raz T’Elecampane ambled up to him, a suspicious smile on his face and his thumbs tucked into his belt.
It occurred to Jace that the man had just come from the communications tent. Despite the work, the scry panel continued to function, if not at optimum efficiency.
“What is it?” Jace questioned. “Or should I ask who?” Not Glyssa. He knew she’d arrived safely, and he’d tapped into their link to understand she’d talked a lot to her friends, some to her Family, but mostly slept. Near the end of his day, she’d sent a mental Sweet dreams his way, but nothing else.
Raz’s smile turned sharp. “First Family GreatLord Laev T’Hawthorn.”
Twenty-four
Raz T’Elecampane continued, “I told T’Hawthorn I was taking you away from well-paid work. He’s going to compensate you.” Tucking his hands in his trous pockets, the actor rocked back and forth, heel to toe. “I quoted him fifty gilt a minute.”
Jace’s eyes widened. “Incredible.”
“He agreed, starting from the moment the call came through.”
With a shrug, Jace jogged toward the communications tent. He was on the far end of the field from it.
“I wouldn’t run if I were you,” Raz called, voice full of amusement.
Jace didn’t stop, but thought of what he knew about Laev T’Hawthorn. FirstFamily GreatLord. Exceedingly wealthy. Generations and generations of wealth. Laev’s FatherSire had been the Captain of All the Councils of Celta, the most important man in the world. More than once.
Jace frowned . . . wasn’t there some sort of hint of a curse? Or was that the Holly Family? And the Hawthorns and Hollys had feuded a generation ago, hadn’t they?
He didn’t know much of the man’s background. But T’Hawthorn was the HeartMate of one of Glyssa’s good friends.
Camellia had married Laev earlier this year. Glyssa approved of the marriage—the HeartMate marriage—and liked the guy. He’d funded her trip here.
With strings.
Like all the FirstFamilies, strings they set in place tended to be sticky.
But Jace was helping Glyssa fulfill her obligation to her friend and the FirstFamily GreatLord—writing a fictional account of Captain Hoku based on his journals. Jace could take pride in that.
He slowed to a walk, slapped dust from his shirt and trous, straightened his cuffs. Of course he would never be the same status as Laev T’Hawthorn, but he had nothing to be ashamed about in his life. He’d lived it as well as he could have, done what he wanted, just like any man should.
On a big sucked-in breath, he waved the spellshield and door of the canvas tent aside and stepped in to see the screen set up on a small table Glyssa had donated. He had no time to check out the other instruments in the tent because his gaze was riveted to the man in the frame who radiated power even from thousands of kilometers away.
“GentleSir Jace Bayrum?” asked Laev T’Hawthorn, his violet gaze fixed on Jace.
“That’s me.” Jace refused to let his hand shake as he drew out the stool. He’d never seen such clothing, so obviously made of expensive materials and in a fashion that flattered the man. Tailored.
“Laev T’Hawthorn here,” the GreatLord said.
Despite himself, Jace dipped his head. “So I was told. How can I help you, GreatLord T’Hawthorn?” More courteous than asking what the guy wanted.
The man’s smile flashed even, brilliant teeth. “Odd you should ask that.”
Jace had said the wrong thing. He was in trouble now. Maybe the man wanted him to do something at the site, but he figured the lord was interested in something else. “You want me to come to Druida City.”
“And you’re very astute. Yes, I do. Glyssa is unhappy that you remained there.”
“How do you—” Then Jace recalled that Glyssa “spoke” with her friends telepathically. Distance didn’t matter to such mental connections.
“The bonds of love.” T’Hawthorn actually looked a little sympathetic. “Glyssa is unhappy and my HeartMate wished me to speak with you, see if I could persuade you to change your mind.”
Jace stiffened, and though it hurt him to say it, he continued, “I won’t be bought.”
A small nod. “I understand. But I’m not offering to pay you to come, though I would take care of all expenses.” Now the man paused. “And offer to house you here, in my Residence.”
Surprise squeezed the breath from Jace and dizzying visions flashed before his eyes. Him staying in an intelligent Residence! With a FirstFamily GreatLord.
The adventure of that. Once in a lifetime, if ever. And he still felt the pain of being far from Glyssa. He sure hadn’t anticipated that would happen.
“I see that you like the idea?” T’Hawthorn pressed. “You would have the use of one of our new gliders to visit the Licorices.”
The bubble of the dream popped. Of course this was all to facilitate Jace meeting Glyssa’s uptight and upright Family.
“What’s the deal?” His own tone wasn’t nearly as smooth as the lord’s.
Another smile. Not as sharklike as Jace had expected.
“We—Camellia and I and our friend Tiana Mugwort—get the opportunity to grill you. Specifically on your relationship with Glyssa and, in general, on the excavation, the Elecampanes, and the project.”
“Yeah?”
“You’ll come? My HeartMate wants this and I like to give her what she wants.”
Jace grunted.
“We’re still newly wed.” The GreatLord’s expression softened. “And I like Glyssa, too. I’m sure I can make it worth your while. I have many projects in my hands.”
Now Jace felt like he’d taken a sock to the chest. “I told you I wouldn’t be bought,” he growled. “Glyssa doesn’t need a man to be bought for her—”
; “Indeed she doesn’t,” T’Hawthorn said.
“And I’ve always made my gilt honestly.”
The entrepreneur’s smile was charming. “I truly would like to get a take on the Lugh’s Spear excavation venture.”
“I’m loyal to the Elecampanes, and I have a share in it,” Jace said.
T’Hawthorn’s smile broadened. “Nothing wrong with just talking.” He tapped his fingers together then spread his hands wide. “Just think, see Druida City as you have never seen it before”—a pause—“as you may never see it again.”
Was that a threat? The guy’s eyes still looked mild, nearly guileless. Jace decided the words hadn’t been intended as a threat. A lot of people at the expedition were looking at settling near Lugh’s Spear, especially those with shares.
“I have a BirdFam,” Jace said. Even as he mentioned Zem, the hawkcel glided through a crack in the flap to perch on his shoulder.
Laev T’Hawthorn’s eyes widened and he whistled. “Beautiful Fam.”
Tell him thank you, Zem said.
Jace relayed the sentiment.
“Perhaps . . . Zem . . . would be amenable to being paid for information on the area?”
I am not a greedy, dealing cat, Zem said.
With a smile, Jace told T’Hawthorn Zem’s words.
The GreatLord laughed, then grew serious. “I want you here, Jace Bayrum and Zem the FamBird. Tell me how I can make that happen.” His expression went beyond serious to sad. “Glyssa misses you.” He coughed and for the first time his eyes shifted from Jace. “My HeartMate and I had a very rough wooing. If I can make it easier on Glyssa . . .”
Heart Fortune (Celta) Page 22