“I didn’t know dogs ate eggs.”
I do. Raw and cooked.
She didn’t want to contemplate eating raw eggs. Shell and all? “Fine. Be down soon.” She took care of her bladder and her morning breath. She was still pretty clean from soaking in the Healing pool the night before, but stood a couple of minutes under the waterfall anyway. She loved that she could spend so much time in the waterfall without punishment.
A few minutes later, she was eating at the café table in the greenhouse, her chair set to see outside and the soft, thick flakes of snow swirling down too fast with no sign of stopping. By the time she finished, a good twelve centimeters had fallen. That wouldn’t melt away quickly as previous snows had. Winter had come for good and all in FirstGrove.
She thought of Tinne. She wanted to see him tonight—every night. Wanted to talk to him. That was not surprising, since he was her only solid contact with the outside world, but it was more. She liked him, cared for him. Thinking about not seeing him made her as irritable as BalmHeal Residence.
One option would to be to go to the Turquoise House, but she hadn’t mastered teleportation. That skill usually came after Second Passage. Taking inward stock of herself, she thought she might have enough Flair, but no practical experience. That was something she could remedy. She’d listened closely to her brother Clute when he’d explained it to her and had teleported with people many times. The experience yesterday hadn’t surprised or confused her. No time like the present to safely experiment.
She memorized the atmosphere, the light, the area of the conservatory and told Strother what she was going to do and told him not to wander onto the flagstones. Then she walked to the kitchen and visualized the greenhouse. Yearned to be there. With a loud pop, she arrived.
She’d done it, all by herself! Shrieking with glee she danced around, then visualized the kitchen and checked to see that Strother was in the conservatory with her. She teleported to the kitchen successfully. The rest of the morning she practiced and refinished the door to the MasterSuite.
She couldn’t wait to tell Tinne that evening.
Maybe, now that she could teleport, she might venture into the city.
Maybe.
Tinne felt great. The night before had gone well. He’d been focused on all his lessons and had been able to face sleeping in T’Holly HouseHeart with equanimity. He’d drummed there, with its approval, then had settled down on the soft moss and slept.
This morning his teaching was going equally well, and he checked on Lahsin several times through their stronger link. The increasing bond was a concern, but he tucked it away. He sensed when she awoke and narrowed their connection.
Between morning classes, Ilexa appeared and waited until Tab was in the main salon before she spoke. I am ready to tell you about the Sallow household. She burped discreetly.
Tinne had completely forgotten that, so much else had happened. His muscles tightened. Damn. “So?”
Nasty Lord went there with nasty daughter. Sniffed at them. Ilexa demonstrated a disdainful sniff. Even though this was not good news, Tinne’s lips twitched at his Fam. He liked having her back. “And?”
Treated Caprea bad. Like a stup, unFlaired Commoner. Sallows didn’t like. Dogs didn’t like. Housefluffs didn’t like—.
“—I get the picture.”
Nasty Lord and daughter go away mad. They do not listen to Sallows, don’t ask questions about what Sallows learned or know.
His shoulders had tensed again, he rolled them. “What do they suspect about FirstGrove?”
Sallow man tracker not know anything, worried for dog. Dog-nose smelled FirstGrove, strangeness in walls, but big pain came after, and big mean dog lives beyond walls, and dog-nose doesn’t want more pain for self or Sallows, so tells self to forget. She groomed her whiskers. Not hard for a dog to forget bad stuff, expect humans to take care of it. Little minds.
“Ahem, yes.” His relief made Ilexa all the more amusing.
I did very well. I have been wonderful Fam. Going to FirstGrove with you. Hunting for crippled dog. Helping with self-defense lessons, she said virtuously.
Tinne figured she’d enjoyed herself doing all of that. “I’ve already bought you a Yule gift from T’Ash.”
A flick of her tail. Time to check on T’Holly Residence, then. I should get gifts from your Family, too.
He laughed.
Tab came in and watched, hands on his hips, as Ilexa vanished. His lips curved in a genuine smile when he met Tinne’s eyes. “You did well this morning. Have been doing well since the divorce. I’m proud of you.” Though Tab made sure to say those words often, it was still balm on recovering wounds. Tinne didn’t feel like such a failure.
“I’ve had to leave a couple of mornings,” Tinne said.
Scowling, Tab said, “Who wouldn’t? But you come to work. You give it your best shot. That’s courage in itself.”
“Thank you.”
Lahsin chivied BalmHeal Residence into letting her have a place to train. Yesterday she’d linked with Tinne and given him teleportation visualizations naturally, trusted him to bring them back to the Residence. So she trusted him that much, and since she hadn’t heard a long list of complaints from the Residence all morning, she thought the house trusted him.
After restoring the HeirSuite door, she went to the indoor exercise room and cleaned it. It wasn’t overly large for an exercise room, but one whole wall was mirrors, and she flinched at the slight figure she made, still looking frail and girl-like.
She was a woman, soon to have adult Flair. She squared her shoulders and turned from the mirrors, then goggled at what she saw. On the opposite wall were racks of weapons—short and long sticks, swords, even shelves of blazers within easy reach.
Two permamoss pads, thinner than those used for beds, were set at angles on a scarred wide-planked, honey-colored floor. It looked fine to her. She hoped Tinne would find it acceptable.
That afternoon, Tinne was slightly distracted, thinking of the Yews, the bounty they’d put on Lahsin’s head, the lies they’d spread about her. Plenty of people would return her to the Burdocks or Yews for the huge reward. Perhaps he’d been wrong in nudging her to leave FirstGrove, especially before she was finished with Second Passage. The Ashes would keep their mouths shut, but one little slip . . . she was safe inside the FirstGrove walls. She should stay there.
The moment he entered the Turquoise House, it said, “I had a viz from BalmHeal Residence. You told me to keep secrets about it and FirstGrove, so I told no one else, but I think I am the first other Residence it has spoken to in over a century!”
“What did it say?”
Hesitation. “It was not too courteous, but it sent you images of the teleportation pad at this time of evening at this time of year. After a heavy snow. It said that the estate spellshields will be open for teleportation to this pad only.”
“Ah.” Interesting that could be done. He wondered if it was because of Lahsin’s Passage last night. She was probably tinkering with the spellshields.
“You will be going there tonight, as always?”
“Yes. But I will be sleeping here.”
“Thank you.”
“Ilexa will probably be here for the night, soon.”
“Ooh. FamCat. More information for my ResidenceLibrary. It has taken longer to gather data on FamCats than expected. I do not altogether understand FamCats.”
“You aren’t alone in that.” Tinne scrutinized the viz images, formed one in his mind, held it, and teleported.
Lahsin was waiting for him.
She had second thoughts when she saw Tinne examining the room. When they trained outside she could run away. He might be faster and catch her but she knew the land better and could escape. That thought had lurked in the back of her mind.
Hands on his hips, turning in place, he studied the room, nodded. “It’s a good space.”
“Thank you,” the Residence said snidely.
Tinne bowed. “Thank you
.” Obviously he understood how to treat a sour old man Residence, too. He went and tested the mats. “Acceptable, but after snowmelt I’ll cut more permamoss pads. Usually it would be far too late in the season, but BalmHeal Estate, the legendary FirstGrove, is warmer than all of Druida.”
“Humph,” said the Residence, but there was a pleased note in the sound.
He and the Residence were getting along fine, and that made Lahsin a little nervous. She didn’t want the Residence to prefer Tinne to her, just as previous Residences had preferred others to her. It was a matter of safety.
It was a matter of trust.
She didn’t trust the Residence, despite the things she’d done for it. She looked at Tinne, who was walking around the room, getting a feel for it, as a person who worked in such a place would explore new surroundings. This was a matter of trust of him, too. How much did she trust him?
She’d sensed he had no sexual interest in her. Knew he still hurt from his wife, his marriage, his divorce. Would that stop him from wanting her as a woman? Probably. Even T’Yew had waited for several years after his wife’s death before he bought Lahsin.
At the far corner of the room, Tinne stopped and sent her a level gaze. His hands were open at his sides, but new tension infused his body. “Lahsin, rape is not about lust, it’s about power and control.”
She shuddered. “How did you know I was thinking—”
“Your expression. I will not rape you.”
The suppressed fury in his voice had her sidling to the door. She was facing an angry man. Angry men were dangerous.
“Yes, I’m angry,” he said. “I’m insulted that you would think such a thing of me. My pride and honor are hurt.”
The door was open. He hadn’t closed it behind him when he’d followed her in. Thinking through the mist of fear in her brain, she understood that he had left it open for her. Fighting rooms probably had their doors shut when people were training.
“I am standing here in the corner. Not coming after you or threatening you in any way. I can control my anger, and I wish no power over you.”
He stood like he was rooted, hadn’t moved a millimeter toward her. Her breathing steadied from short, ragged gasps.
“I’m angry, too, that anyone would hurt a woman.” He swallowed. “Rape a girl. That is wrong. Your Family was dishonorable to let that happen.”
“He paid them a lot of gilt, because I had great potential for Flair. He promised them he’d wait to take me to bed. He lied. To them. To me. He’s a FirstFamily GrandLord, and he can do whatever he pleases.” Her voice was high and thin, and then she wasn’t even speaking, but sobbing. She folded in on herself, wrapped her arms around her legs. Her vision was blurry with tears, but she saw that Tinne still hadn’t moved.
Silence. His feet shifted, but he didn’t take a step.
“Ah, Lahsin.” His voice sounded sad and thick. “What happened to you hurts my heart.”
There was grumbling from the Residence but no words.
“The Holly Family runs mostly to men,” Tinne said. “But I have a Mamá and a sister-in-law.” A heavy silence. “I had a wife. I know how to comfort a woman, Lahsin. If you’ll let me.”
She made a mewling noise, clapped her hand over her mouth, and wept some more.
“If you can’t reach me mentally, tell the Residence yes or no. I can help.” He paused. “It eases my own pain to help.”
“Ye—eh—ehsss.” She gulped. Her chin quivered, and her mouth pulled down. “I am weeping again.”
“Emotions don’t just go away and stay away. You lapse,” he muttered almost to himself. “Grief. Guilt. Hurt.”
Then he was there, lifting her into his arms, crooning wordlessly, cradling her. Somehow that was what she needed most, to be treated like a hurt child, the girl who had been confused and scared and hurt. Who had been in the power of a man with no honor. A man who had lied and paid to get what he wanted and was uncaring of any others’ feelings but his own.
She clung to Tinne as he carried her, moving down the hall. The Residence was muttering something about a nearby sitting room, grumbling because it was using precious energy to clean it.
The tears came and came. She didn’t know she still had so many in her. He found a huge rocking chair—or the Residence or he ’ported one—and they sat and rocked. He continued with the soft flow of murmured words, how she was good and strong and a survivor, and she should release all her grief.
A long time later he set her on her feet and handed her a large, clean softleaf.
She wiped her face and blew her nose, feeling better. A little embarrassed that he knew of her troubles, but not much, because they were equal. She’d seen how his own problems plagued him. Her insides were washy, but lighter. Tears had been a release. She hadn’t shed all she needed to, and behind the tears there was a waiting tide of anger, but she was fine for now. She mopped her face while he went to the door. “Do you need to go?”
She was glad that she neither whined about him going nor had any eagerness for him to leave. A fine next step in trusting him.
He turned. “No, not right now.” His mouth quirked. “But the Turquoise House worries.”
An easy topic that piqued her curiosity. “Tell me.”
“Silly upstart,” said the Residence.
“The Turquoise House was honored to be speaking to such a renowned Residence.”
No comment from the Residence, so Tinne continued, “The House hums with the energy of a young entity, always learning, always growing.” He hesitated. “Not like this place who is like an ill-tempered oldster.” He raised his voice. “But I believe this Residence isn’t happy at being disturbed from its sleep and fears being left and neglected again.”
Lahsin swallowed. “I’ll want to do something for BalmHeal Residence, so it isn’t always abandoned.”
“We’ll think on it,” Tinne said. “Ready for your lesson?”
After blowing her nose one more time, she stood, tall and straight. “Yes.”
This was the best moment of the day for Tinne. The anticipatory minute before Lahsin put her hands on him, rubbed salve into his very tight back. She hadn’t seemed to notice that his back had gotten tighter since they’d first started this nightly ritual.
Her fingers skimmed his shoulder blades and, as always, his shaft hardened. He closed his eyes, enjoying the touch of her hands, the scent of the fragrant salve, their link. The connection between them was growing. He was helpless to stop it. He needed her in his life.
“You have a bruise here,” she said, and he knew she frowned.
She needed him in her life. He’d helped the night before during Passage, would probably help through the remaining fugues. He swallowed hard. Passages were scary things.
“Tinne? This bruise . . . ”
He shrugged, felt it. “Just a bruise.”
“But how did you get it?”
Looking over his shoulder at her, he smiled. She was using Flair, little surges that sparked the minor Healing components in the ointment and sank deep and warm into his muscles. “Lahsin, I fight all day long, training all levels of students. In the advanced classes we often have free-for-all melees, rough-and-tumble. I don’t notice every bruise.”
“Oh.”
They were surrounded by drifts of pristine snow, wrapped in the thick steam rising from the pool that isolated them. He didn’t think she’d be able to see his erection if she peeked around his body. Not that she ever did, though she stared openly at his backside now. It was a step in the right direction.
No! This was friendship. He didn’t want anything more. He sucked in a breath, and she took that as a signal to massage him deeper, and it felt great. He groaned.
“Tinne?”
“Just feels good.” Understatement. “The Healing pool and this rubdown always feel good.” He didn’t want to talk about it, searched for another subject. “It’s wonderful that you’re learning to teleport.” He hadn’t known anyone who was self-taught in that
—well, perhaps young Avellana Hazel. Precocious child. Perhaps under all her anger and fear was a precocious Lahsin. That made him smile.
“I took the image for here from your mind. I didn’t even need you to hold on to me. I did it all by myself.” She grinned.
“You did. Actually, I think we shared our visualizations of the pool from previous observations. You know it better, of course, but you’re teleporting as well as anyone who studied with a mentor.”
The warmth of pride tingled from her to him through her palms. She’d rested them on his shoulders as she usually did just before she ended the massage. He leaned into her, and they lingered in the moment, then he let the cold touch the front of his body, and his natural passion faded. He turned, kept his eyes on her face. “Want me to smooth the salve into your back?”
She pinkened, he saw a flash of yearning. What sort? To be touched by him or by anyone?
Her long stretch bobbed her pretty breasts into view. “No, thank you. I should return to the Residence.”
In record time he said a now-familiar couplet, and he was fully dressed, a new skill he’d learned. He felt better with his clothes on. “I’m glad I persuaded you to soak tonight.”
She nodded, narrowing her eyes to see beyond the steam. “Yes, it was lovely. Hot springs and cold air, the pure white snowbanks. Yule’s coming, I’m looking forward to it. I’ll decorate a little.”
He couldn’t stop himself. He lifted her hand to his lips, met her eyes. “You are a special woman, Lahsin.”
Her eyes widened, her smile flashed, and then she was gone without even a hint of a pop of displaced air.
Precocious. He wondered whether he’d be able to handle her once she was completely mature and her inner demons were gone.
A smile still on his face, hands in his coat pockets, Tinne walked from the caff shop to the Turquoise House. He’d wanted a little company and had greeted other regular customers. People had come out in the cold, snowy night to hear a local band. There had been smiles for him, he was being accepted into the neighborhood. As himself and not because of his Family.
Heart Fate Page 26