Heart Fortune (Celta)

by Robin D. Owens

  Glyssa? Jace? This is Raz T’Elecampane. Can you hear me?

  I can hear you, Raz, Glyssa replied.

  So can I, said Jace.

  And I can link in our Fams who are with us, Glyssa said.

  Good you can hear. Unfortunately the rest of my news is bad. I have been told by Cornuta Holly that the whole camp has been affected by several explosions, Raz Elecampane told them steadily. The mess tent, the workshop, our tent. Your nonfood no-time storage units remain, but your pavilion and all the furniture is gone. He paused. The land has shifted, the scenery changed. There is no way you can teleport out here to the camp.

  Jace thought Glyssa had stopped her progress down the hallway and leaned against one of the walls, maybe even trembling.

  Raz went on, We don’t know where such incendiaries for the explosives came from. We had no such materials in the encampment. The Holly guards believe that one of our recent visitors brought them to Trago. He’s working with someone else. No doubt someone wealthier and of higher status who wants to shut down this operation or make it so costly that they can buy in and seize control.

  “Fligger,” cursed Jace.

  STUPS! whined Lepid.

  Raz T’Elecampane’s harsh chuckle came through the telepathic link. We are all considering how to rescue you, and request you stay put for a couple of septhours. None of you are in immediate danger, right?

  No-oo, Glyssa said. But Jace sensed she ran rapidly toward him.

  We will be in touch, T’Elecampane said. Jace got the idea that people surrounded the man, pestering him.

  Some minutes later he heard Glyssa’s footsteps echoing before her. His heart pumped with hope, with need, with the wish to see her again. He closed his eyes tight against the sting.

  Lepid hopped off his lap and began to scratch at the door, whining.

  “I’m coming!” Glyssa shouted. A tremor went through Jace at hearing her actual voice resound outside the door in the hollow corridor. “Let me record the Captain’s Quarter’s door, first.”

  Sniffing, Lepid thumped his butt on Jace’s ankle. Both Glyssa’s and Lepid’s actions made Jace smile. He rubbed his face. She was only a couple of doors away.

  Then she was there, right outside the door. He could feel her presence. “There’s a control panel for the door to the right of it.” The words spurted from his mouth.

  “So I see,” she said. “I’m increasing the light so I can examine the mechanism. Can you see it?”

  “Not a glimmer,” Jace said a little too heartily to sound naturally cheerful. He stood.

  Snick. Snick. Snick. Zem pecking at the door. I do not like this metal. I do not like this place. Then, on the private channel to Jace, the bird said, Lepid was a young fool to explore this terrible place.

  Thank you for coming, Jace said as more thumps and bangs came from outside.

  “I’ve tried,” Glyssa said. “The door crank won’t move. I tried applying Flair power to it until I thought I’d break it, then I stopped.”

  “All right,” Jace said. He wanted to yell.

  “I checked Hoku’s journal for data about the doors. He said they had schedules for some of the colonists to go in and retrieve their possessions and items they thought they might need to establish a town here, but the power was turned off and no one was supposed to be in the ship when the land beneath it gave way and it was lost.” She paused. “He didn’t know how much power there might be, but extrapolated that there could be some. It might have lasted, if we could find one of the control rooms.”

  “No,” Jace said flatly. Cleared his throat. “Not until it is our last option.”

  “All right.” Another pause. “I don’t want to stay out here when you’re in there!” Glyssa cried.

  Me neither, said Zem.

  Jace could actually hear her pacing. Thump, thump, thump– thump.

  “We could at least die together,” she said.

  That had his stomach curling into a tiny ball. “You don’t think help is coming? You’re an important person.”

  “Not that important.”

  “You’re best friends with a FirstFamilies Lord and Lady.”

  “I don’t think they can get to us,” she said in a small voice. “And I don’t know what our air and food and water supplies are.”

  “Nothing much alive for Zem, that I know of. But you should stay out there. Out there, you can find food and water maybe. In here with us, you’re stuck.”

  They were both stuck.

  A few breaths of quiet passed, the only sound a low level whine by Lepid. He shivered in Jace’s arms, feeling skinnier than before, even though they’d only missed two meals, max.

  “I think if I tried to blow this door open with all my might I would harm you,” Glyssa said.

  A longer moment of silence, now. “I think you and Lepid should teleport to us,” she finally said. “Zem and I can give you a good visual.”

  Yes! Lepid said. I’m ready.

  Should Jace go with him or not? He decided not. “Lepid first. He’s smaller and has different vision than I do—we won’t have to merge our images. I can give him a Flair push, of course.”

  I do not need a push. I SEE the corridor like FamWoman and Zem. Nice and light, thank you FamWoman!

  “You’re welcome,” Glyssa said.

  I am counting down! One, Lepid fox; Two Lepid fox; Three! the FoxFam said it so fast that Jace didn’t have a chance to send him energy.

  Lepid vanished and excited barking came from outside the door. Good to see you, FamWoman! Good to see you, Zem! Jace couldn’t hear the slurps of love but sensed them down his bond with Glyssa, which had expanded. For a moment he basked in the emotions he felt from her, the small sensations he received through their bond, the busyness of her mind. Then he narrowed it a bit.

  I’m concentrating. Please send me images, he requested telepathically. They poured into him and he had to lean against the closed closet door. Zem’s and Lepid’s shades of colors were not the same, and not human, perspectives skewed. From Glyssa he got a great idea of the hallway. Lepid was right, she’d lit it nicely and not too bright.

  Lepid yipped. It is easy, FamMan!

  Jace figured if the fox could do it, he could, too. He latched onto the images that reinforced his recollection of the hall in the direction of going deeper into the ship. Yes, that’s how those boxes were positioned, and the doors that were opened and closed.

  Counting down, he projected. One, Glyssa dear; two Zem BirdFam; THREE!

  A rush of Flair came from the trio outside the door, augmenting his as he fixed the image in his mind and ’ported.

  This time he lit well, softly, and saw the tense face of Glyssa, the short flight of Zem heading toward him, before the bright light faded to dim when Glyssa extinguished several of her spellglobes.

  She flung herself into his arms and he was glad to hold her, pulled her close, breathing in essence of Glyssa and the small, lingering smells of the world outside the alien ship that he took for granted.

  Zem’s claws pricked Jace’s shoulders as he dug into the leather tunic, the familiar weight pleasing Jace. He felt the brush of Lepid’s body as the fox danced around them.

  We are out, Out, OUT! the Fam crooned.

  “Yes, out of the chamber.”

  Glyssa looked up at him with a strained expression. “But not out of the ship. We are all still trapped down here.” She shivered and Jace rubbed up and down her back.

  “We’ll work on that,” he said.

  A few minutes later he stepped over to the door of the quarters where he and Lepid had spent long septhours and studied the mechanism to the side of the door. When he put his hand in the cavity and touched the lever to open the door, he felt the taint of Trago’s Flair. He turned the crank, grunted when it stopped and applied pressure. The metal broke off in his hands. Jace shook his head. “No way we could have gotten out by ourselves, or by this method.”

  “No,” Glyssa said. “And I’m not sure we can get
out of the ship by ourselves.” She hesitated and said in an even smaller voice, “I don’t even know if we can survive until someone comes and gets us.” She blinked rapidly, stiffened her spine and when she spoke again, her voice was coolly logical. “There were farms, a conservatory—something like the Great Greensward on Nuada’s Sword—here, wasn’t there?” Glyssa asked.

  “I paid attention to the blueprints,” Jace teased gently. “Yes, about a quarter of the ship was given over to agriculture and growing.” He hesitated. “It failed in some way, or wasn’t enough to sustain the long voyage the way the colonists had imagined. The Lugh’s Spear people needed help.”

  Glyssa nodded. “I remember that from the play, Heart and Sword. But maybe since then . . .”

  “Four hundred years of darkness, of being underground, it couldn’t have survived. Whatever food we find might have lost all nutritional value like the subsistence bars. I’m not sure whether we can reach other levels. We are on the sixteenth level now and the green ag area was one whole side of the third level.”

  “But those walls held during the landing, didn’t they?” she asked, trying to remember without resorting to the recordsphere in her pocket. That knowledge hadn’t been a priority of hers.

  Lepid barked once. I have been down one level.

  “Really?” Glyssa and Jace asked together.

  Yes, there is a stairway. And down there I found an opening, a tube that smelled of once-growing things. His nose wrinkled and he sneezed. Very, very bad smells.

  Jace’s lips twisted. “Who knows, something might have mutated.”

  Images from horror vizes flickered through Glyssa’s mind. She shivered. “Maybe we shouldn’t find out.”

  Not by ourselves, Zem said. He shifted from foot to foot on Jace’s shoulder. I do not like being here.

  “It doesn’t look good,” Jace said.

  I am cold, Zem said.

  There is a big bag of clothing not too far down the hallway! Lepid said, sounding chipper now that she was here and they were all together. He trotted down the hall, into the darkness beyond Glyssa’s spellglobe.

  She followed slowly with Jace. “We are trapped.”

  “Sounds like.”

  “You didn’t bring any food or water?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Her smile trembled. “I didn’t, either. No one told me I should and I didn’t consider it.”

  “Without Trago’s actions, we would have been fine.” Jace’s tone was casual.

  “Did you try the water in the ship?” she asked.

  “No, but maybe we should.” Jace walked over to the nearest open door, checked the doorway, opened the panel for manual operation of the door, and touched the controls. No feel of any Flair.

  A scraping sounded behind him, and he saw Glyssa moving a large box into the doorway.

  “It’s not heavy, but it’s metal and constructed well,” she said and frowned down on it. “I think it held subsistence bars.”

  Jace nodded and climbed over the box and into the room. Summoning a dim spell light, he went straight to the cleansing cubicle where a small sink was attached to the wall, and stared at the lever next to the spout.

  That does not look like what is in the shower tent, Zem said.

  “It doesn’t work with Flair. Nothing in this ship works with Flair,” Jace said.

  Flair makes the world go around, Zem said.

  Jace wasn’t going to argue or lecture. Using muscle and a steady pressure, he pushed the lever all the way down. Nothing happened, not a creak, not a gurgle.

  Glyssa joined him and they both stared at the tiny basin. “No water,” she said.

  “No,” he said and waved for her to leave the room.

  She did and he went back into the hallway, moved the box close to its original position.

  “We probably wouldn’t want to drink water that sat stagnant in pipes for four centuries anyway,” she said.

  “Not me,” he said.

  She shivered. “The ship is always this cold?”

  “As far as I know. I’d like to see the entryway,” Jace said.

  Glyssa nodded and they turned back.

  He reached out and took her hand, swung their arms, which had her smiling.

  “Thank you for coming to save me.”

  “I couldn’t do anything else.”

  His chest tightened. “Thank you,” he said again, unable to find more words.

  They reached the place where the ship had broken, and stood staring at the pile of rock and dirt. “Doesn’t look like anything we can handle ourselves,” Jace said.

  Thirty-nine

  Raz contacted them again. We only have two Flaired earth-moving machines, the best on the market, but they can’t tunnel so deep in time.

  Before they died of thirst. Two to four days, max. “Figured that,” Jace muttered. He held Zem and stroked the bird.

  Another mind stream from Raz, The greatest building machines are stored on Nuada’s Sword, the starship in Druida City. I don’t know if they are in working order or available. However, the people who could run those machines are Captain Ruis Elder and Dani Eve Elder.

  “Nulls,” Glyssa said flatly. “They can’t get here on an airship, they would interfere with the Flaired flying spells.”

  “Figured that, too,” Jace said.

  Raz said delicately, I am sure you understand the problems in asking for help from Captain Elder and his daughter.

  “Not to mention the Elecampanes still want to keep this project under their control,” Jace said, with no bitterness.

  Glyssa lifted her brows.

  “What? Not the Elecampanes’ fault that we got trapped in here,” Jace said.

  “I think if we perish they will have significant problems,” Glyssa said. “People will blame them.” Glyssa shrugged. “Too late now.”

  Jace’s grin was swift. “Let’s hope not.”

  Not looking good, Zem grumbled.

  Raz’s telepathic voice interrupted them. We will return to the camp. I am only a few septhours away with the airship. Del is . . . she’ll be back in a day. We can send images to you, Glyssa, pull you out, then you can help with Jace and the others.

  Jace’s face set into impassivity. He said nothing, but his shuttered gaze met hers.

  Perhaps that would work, but Glyssa doubted it. If it had been only her, she’d have risked it.

  No, Raz, she sent firmly. You have a load of passengers there at the Deep Blue Sea, don’t tell me they all stayed in camp. Didn’t the cross-folk head off overland to somewhere else? From his lack of reply, she was right. You must stay for them. I am not sure how long we could survive down here. We have no water. We are reluctant to explore the ship and waste our energy. She took a breath and continued. You and I are not that close that I would trust our link. Not even if it were Laev and you. I’m sure there is only limited Flair available to you, I will not be the first one out and leave my loved ones.

  She moved close to Jace, hugged him, looked down at Lepid, whose ears had quivered with fear. “We stay together.”

  I WILL find a way to rescue you, though it beggars me! Laev T’Hawthorn shouted.

  Lepid and Zem gasped, obviously hearing the GreatLord. Jace grimaced.

  Glyssa bit her lips. How dire their situation was began sinking in. Her joy at finding Jace and Lepid completely gone. She swallowed and met Jace’s eyes. Shaking her head, she whispered, “All the greatest Flaired mages in Celta can’t save us.”

  And she was surprised by a tender look and carefree smile. There is freedom in hopelessness, his thought that she believed she wasn’t supposed to catch.

  “I know,” Jace said.

  The last-ditch idea that had been cycling in the back of her mind jumped forward and off her tongue. “I think we should try to teleport home.”

  Jace frowned. “Home?”

  She sucked in a desperate breath. “Home. To Druida.”

  His mouth actually dropped open. “What! Thousands of
kilometers!”

  Lifting her chin, she said, “I can teleport to Verde Valley from my home in Druida City. That’s—” She couldn’t recall the exact distance, hundreds of kilometers, though. “That’s not close.”

  He appeared stunned.

  Yes! Lepid wagged his tail. Let’s do that!

  “Thousands. Of. Kilometers,” Jace said, shuddering. He dropped her hands.

  She rubbed her arms. “What are our other options? Scavenging through the ship, hoping to find food and water. We’d just end up waiting on others, depending on others.”

  His gray eyes deepened and his mouth turned down. “There is that.” But he turned and paced—not going far, not beyond her spell light. He glanced in the open doors.

  I do not like it here, Zem said. It is too cold all the time. There is no sunlight. There is no wind. There are no trees.

  Lepid took up the negative litany. There is no food. Not one little mousie or insect. There is no brook to lap at with fresh water.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jace said. His hands were clasped behind his back, his head down as he paced.

  He looked fine, but fear crept along each nerve in Glyssa’s body, screaming for her to do something. She could be patient. She could wait. Truly. If she knew for certain she’d be saved, they’d be saved. But she didn’t. She only saw slow and painful death or a terrible risk.

  Jace turned back, chin lowered. When he raised his head his face was grim and he flipped a gesture at the hallway with lost and forgotten items around them. “We could scavenge here, for sure, but might not find anything useful.”

  “That’s right,” she said.

  “And we all could last, what, maybe a full eightday?”

  Instinctively at the thought of no water, she wet her lips. “Maybe. Maybe longer if we went into Flaired trances.” She didn’t think Lepid was able to hold a Flaired trance, too young and nervy.

  “You really don’t believe any mages GreatLord Laev T’Hawthorn recruits to save us any way they could would have a chance?” Jace asked.

  “No.”

  “And we’ll get weaker and weaker.” He lifted his hand to stroke Zem. “We’re about as strong as we’ll ever be, right now.”