Heart Fate

by Robin D. Owens

  She heard no BalmHeal grumbles in her mind and was grateful.

  People protested, all wanted to keep the sanctuary secret, with no one on the grounds.

  “As you heard in your call, if we abandon the Residence, Druida will lose FirstGrove forever. It is not well done of us to ignore and forget the place that sheltered us in a bad time.”

  More discussion, then agreement, but varying opinions as to what should be done. Finally Cratag Maytree said, “Perhaps it should be a family with nothing to lose.”

  “Are you thinking a cursed Family?” Tinne asked. “I’d never allow a cursed Family to besmirch this sanctuary.”

  The oldest woman creaked an amused sigh. “Wonder what would prevail, a cursed Family or a blessed sanctuary.”

  “Beg pardon,” said Tinne shortly. “But I don’t think you understand what you said.”

  “Beg pardon,” the old woman mocked, “but I do. I am the last cursebreaker living.”

  That shut everyone up.

  Lahsin glanced at Cratag, he was frowning as if fumbling for some concept. She offered him a flatsweet. He took it absently, bit into it. He said, “Not a cursed Family, but maybe a disgraced one?”

  Ruis Elder stopped lounging. “What are you thinking?”

  Cratag chewed, swallowed, waved the flatsweet. “Was thinking of the newssheets, the stories they tell.” He looked at Lahsin. “A dim, runaway girl escaping her older husband. That smears a Family.” He shot Tinne a look. “A Family with political aspirations and a divorce scandal, many past scandals.”

  Lahsin stared, but Cratag had judged Tinne’s temper better than she. Tinne’s jaw clenched, his hands curled white over the wooden arms of the chair, but he didn’t move.

  “A Family with a null in it,” Cratag continued.

  “Nulls aren’t quite as disreputable as they were,” Ruis Elder said coolly.

  Lahsin prayed Cratag wouldn’t mention thieves or murderers. He didn’t. He merely took another bite of flatsweet. But everyone’s attention was focused on him and no one else spoke.

  “Thing is,” Cratag said, “D’Yew’s pride has been pricked, but she doesn’t see herself as ruined. She’s the head of a FirstFamily Grand-House; the Hollys are a FirstFamily GreatHouse, as are the Elders; Captain Elder, here, is the Captain of the last starship. None of you are lowly enough to want to leave Druida, not even to rusticate.”

  “Certainly not in the winter,” Tinne said.

  “Scandals come and go, every Family has them,” the old lady said.

  “Exactly,” Cratag said. “But a Commoner Family, or middle class, or even lower Nobility might not think that way. A scandal touching one member of the Family can affect them all.”

  “Unless they cast off the offending member.”

  “Yes. So we’re looking at some characteristics here that might give us a Family who would care for the Residence and FirstGrove. A disgraced Family.” Cratag finished his flatsweet, wiped the crumbs from his mouth with his softleaf.

  “Honorable,” Tinne said. “They—each member—must be honorable. Whatever the scandal attached to the Family name, it must not be one regarding honor. The sanctuary must be protected, they must be discreet and honorable enough to keep secrets.” He smiled. “Even lie to keep the secrets.”

  “There are also perceived scandals, rumors, slanders, and beliefs about a Family that are untrue. A Family suffering such a fate would be an excellent choice,” the old woman said.

  “Flair,” Ruis said. “The Family must have great Flair. Even now the Residence becomes uncomfortable at my presence, and spells will have to be rewoven.” He dipped his head to Lahsin.

  “I’ll see to it,” she said.

  “If one of the members, or the Family itself had a Healing strain in their bloodlines, it would be good,” said one of the cloaked ones, a female older than herself, Lahsin guessed. She wondered if that woman, too, had been abused. Were all three of the cloaked people abused women, or children now adult?

  “A disgraced Family, of more than one member, a loving Family who sticks together, a Family with great Flair, an honorable Family.” The old woman ticked off the list on her fingers. “Each person to make a Vow of Honor of secrecy.”

  “I think,” came a high voice of a man, another cloaked person, “I know such a Family.”

  “Who?” chorused several.

  “The Mugworts.”

  Babel hit. “They are Cross Folk.”

  “They experimented with pylor.”

  “They might have had associations with the black cult!”

  The man who spoke originally lifted a delicate hand with long fingers and well-shaped nails. “No! First, only the Lady is of the Cross Folk persuasion. Second, they had a couple of incense sticks with a trace amount of pylor in them, currently available from any candle shop.” The man shrugged. “I’d imagine most of our households would have the same in a storage drawer. Third, GraceLord Mugwort was a circuit judge, this has ruined his career. The Family is in desperate straits and are packing to leave Druida, but they are not a wealthy Family.” Lahsin thought she saw a flash of teeth. “They may show up here in FirstGrove.”

  “How many of them are there?” asked the old woman.

  “The immediate Family? Four. The Lord and Lady and two daughters, one sixteen and one twelve. The Mugwort line itself is close to dying out, the Lord has no elders or siblings. GraceLady Mugwort’s Family, the Ginsengs, have disinherited her.”

  “The Ginsengs have much old BalmHeal blood in them,” the Residence said. “Good Healers. I would accept them if they have such Flair.”

  “All the Family has exceptional Flair. Tinne, you might ask T’Ash about the testing of the two daughters. The Lady and her oldest daughter have excellent Healing skills. The Lord is honorable. They are HeartMates, so the Lady is honorable, too, since that would be necessary for him. He has instilled high values in his children.”

  “You seem to know a great deal about them,” the old woman said suspiciously.

  The man shrugged.

  There was murmuring, but no resolution.

  Ruis Elder stood. “I must leave before I affect you all, the Residence, and the estate with my nullness. Why don’t we make inquiries in the next two days about the Mugworts then send a vote pebble to the Turquoise House cache box. White for approaching and accepting the Mugworts as a Family for the Residence, black for not.” He bowed to Lahsin. “GentleLady Rosemary will tally the votes and relay the information to GreatSir Holly.” Now Elder bowed to Tinne. “Whom I thank for taking charge of this task.”

  Another cackle from the old woman, who grabbed a couple of flatsweets, stashed them in her cloak, and bit into another. “We’ll cast our minds back to older scandals that might have impoverished a family.” She munched the flatsweet. “One thing’s for certain, if there isn’t a scandal in the past, there’s always one just around the corner.”

  Lahsin raised her voice in protest at having to deal with Tinne, but no one heard as they all gathered together and made their way back to the teleportation room, talking all the while.

  Tinne looked at her with grief in his eyes. “You know it’s illegal for me to inform you I’m your HeartMate, Lahsin.”

  She glanced aside, she’d forgotten that in her wallowing.

  “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I wish I hadn’t.” He inclined his head. “But I have not offered you a HeartGift, or courted you, and I won’t. Come to me when you’re ready.” He became brisk as he turned away from her. “Just count the markers and have TQ relay a message to me, but from what I’ve heard tonight, the Mugworts sound like a good choice.”

  Soon everyone had departed. Not even the Residence spoke to her. All was silent.

  Thirty-seven

  Tinne stood outside the gate of the Turquoise House and looked across the courtyard to where it glowed. It seemed satisfied with itself, growing into maturity. Just as Lahsin had. They suited each other, better than he had suited the place.


  But he’d helped its development, had helped Lahsin. He could take pride in that.

  He’d received a scry from TQ that the majority of those at the meeting had approved of offering the Mugworts the BalmHeal care-taking position. Notes of research results had been included, testifying to the honor and decency of the Family, and nothing of problems. Tinne had crafted a Vow of Honor for the four that Ruis Elder and his wife, SupremeJudge Ailim Elder, had approved.

  He’d just come from speaking to the Mugworts under a secrecy spell. The relief that had flowed from them had been nearly overwhelming. They were pitifully grateful for the opportunity, and all had eagerly sworn Vows of Honor to care for BalmHeal Residence and safeguard it and the estate. They would interfere in no way with people who entered, unless those wished help.

  Tinne had wanted to talk to Lahsin about it, missed discussing matters with her. Anything regarding FirstGrove and BalmHeal Estate was not something he could speak to many about. Furthermore, she’d promised to key the spellshields individually to each Mugwort and the Family in general, so he’d wanted to tell her to meet them at the northern door at RetireBell.

  But she wasn’t here. TQ had excitedly told him Lahsin was out procuring supplies for a ritual to spellshield its HouseHeart. So Tinne had left a message.

  Lady and Lord, he hurt! Every minute was a struggle to endure. How could he have fallen in love again so fast? Except now that he looked back at his marriage, he saw that it had been over much longer than he’d believed.

  He wanted Lahsin more than he’d ever wanted anything else in his life. More than he’d wanted to survive when the lifeboat had crashed. He’d had his brother then and had known they’d prevail. Now he wasn’t sure he could make it another day without her.

  Didn’t that sound desperate! He snorted an ironic laugh. Here he was languishing outside his lover’s, his HeartMate’s, home. He wouldn’t come back here, or go to FirstGrove.

  Of course he wouldn’t die without her. He’d continue to put one foot in front of the other, keep going until he found some emotional balance, then walk that tightrope of balance until he built habit and might someday find contentment in his daily life.

  He would survive, live the best he could one septhour at a time.

  But the agony wouldn’t be going away soon.

  Dressed in a flowing white ritual robe, Lahsin opened the hidden door that led to the Turquoise House’s new HouseHeart.

  She’d assured Mitchella D’Blackthorn and the Turquoise House that she could work a full spellshield on it, and was told that even more was necessary. The House was willing to let her touch the HeartStones that held its personality and memory and being. She was to protect them and the new HouseHeart. It was a great honor that made her nervous. She’d boosted existing spells, revived and revamped the ancient BalmHeal ones, but had never created brand-new ones. This would be a true test of her Flair.

  She walked through the passageway started by moles and finished by a machine from the starship. The moles probably knew where all the HouseHearts were located and didn’t have much contact with people. The machine had no memory bank to keep any information about the project. The HouseHeart had already been decorated according to its own specifications by Mitchella D’Blackthorn. The HeartStones and space had been consecrated by the high priestess and priest of GreatCircle Temple. Lahsin would provide the spellshields. Both she and Mitchella had consented to memory-dimming spells. In a week, she wouldn’t recall much about the HouseHeart or details of the HeartStones.

  For now she said a blessing and the simple opening spell before the door and took off her shoes. Then she stepped into the room and was impressed. Each wall had a different holosphere mural, which would eventually sink into the wall itself and become permanent. The north wall showed a profusion of exotic plants surrounding a turquoise pool where animals had gathered. “Gorgeous,” Lahsin said.

  “It is a garden in the Southern Continent,” TQ said.

  “Very beautiful.” She smiled as she saw one of the animals was Strother. There was a small creamy pinkish tomcat and an elegant-looking fox. Then light brightened as if the sun rose, and flowers opened. Lahsin stood and stared. As she did, figures projected from the trees. She recognized Mitchella D’Blackthorn and her son, Antenn, several years younger than he was now. There was Tinne . . . and herself! Hand in hand. She swallowed.

  “All my residents whom I can recall,” the House said proudly.

  “Ah, yes.” Lahsin turned away.

  The west wall showed the rolling tide on Maroon Beach south of Druida. As she looked at it, Lahsin became aware of the sound of the surf that permeated the room like its own pulsing heartbeat. The south wall was a huge stone fireplace, the opening nearly as tall as she. Crackling flames gave even more comfort. She went to the wall and touched a roughened stone slab. Real. Held out her hands to the fire. Definitely real. Near the right corner was a tall storage frame for the wood.

  “I wanted a real fire,” TQ said.

  “You got it.”

  “Yes. Other Residences told me they have a special feature, most built by their Family to reflect certain characteristics or nature. Since I don’t have a Family yet, I chose for myself.”

  “You did very well.”

  “Thank you. Mitchella said so, too, and she is the best at decorating. I have ambience and atmosphere.”

  “You certainly do.”

  “Or maybe it’s atmosphere and ambience.”

  She turned and saw the wall that held the door. The wall was a pale silkeen of yellow with bright red and blue flowers, in each corner was a tree with branches flowing in a gentle wind. Chimes stirred gently. She stopped and stared.

  “I saw this pattern in your head when you were talking to me mentally about BalmHeal Residence. I liked it very much,” the Turquoise House said.

  Lahsin swallowed. “I recognize the old paper in the great hall.” How much could residential entities read minds?

  “It was a strong impression,” the Turquoise House said. “I liked it. And I wanted my own Fam.”

  “Your own Fam?” She still mulled over its previous words.

  “Look closely.” Humor laced the House’s tones.

  She studied the wall. There, off to one side, sat a holographic cat. It was a small gray and white tabby with some red and blue tinting to blend in with the pattern.

  “My FamCat will be with me forever. I have already given her a little memory and information on cat habits. She may begin to move in a decade or two—”

  The House certainly sounded like it had accepted the truths of its existence, had become an adult just as Lahsin had.

  “—and right now she is the best of FamCats, she doesn’t speak!” The house chuckled.

  Lahsin smiled.

  Then the fire died. She whirled. “Why—”

  My HeartStones are in the corner of the fireplace.

  “Oh.”

  The small round ones are my original HeartStones, the larger piece of obsidian Tinne gifted to me as a new HeartStone. It will contain much information and conducts thought well.

  “Oh.” Lahsin looked in, saw five pebbles and a shiny black rock with sharp edges that was roughly pyramidical.

  They are not too hot. They are safe from the fire . . . and everyone else.

  “Excellent deterrent.”

  Thank you.

  She bent a little, the thick hearth was hot on her soles. Mind-speaking was more secure. Can you cool this area so I can get your stones? Then we’ll begin the shielding.

  Yes.

  It only took a moment before the fireplace emanated a chill instead of warmth.

  Thank you. After I shield the stones I can do more spells on the fireplace, then you can light the fire, and I’ll work a spellshield to blend with the fire and the heat. So if a thief or intruder tries to harm you, you can burn them.

  The House made a shocked noise.

  “You are allowed to fight and hurt someone who is trying to hurt you,” she sa
id firmly.

  I have already harmed one who harmed me. The words were barely a whisper in her head.

  “So have I. We’re alike that way, and we had no choice, did we?”

  No.

  She reached and scooped up the pebbles. When she grasped the obsidian it slipped a little and sliced her. She watched as her blood slicked down her hand and a couple of drops dripped into the corner.

  Another odd sound from the House.

  She said, This will make my spellshields even more powerful, but knew that memory of this place, gone or not, she’d be linked with the House as long as she lived.

  The HeartStones felt odd in her hands, humming, alive. She swallowed again, went to the altar, and set them upon it. She prayed and drew on her Flair and bespelled them individually, then as a unit, then replaced them in their corner and put ash over them. The House sighed in her mind. Next she touched the inner walls of the fireplace, felt the blessing of the priestess and priest, smiled as she wove a spell to work with the blessing and safeguard the stones.

  She stepped away from the fireplace, watched the fire ignite and rise again, put a couple of logs on it, and shielded the wall.

  Finally it was time for the true test of her Flair, to fashion a spellshield for the entire House.

  She had just enough Flair to complete the project. She drew in a long breath, leaned against the wall next to the door, and thought she felt the slight brush of the holographic cat’s fur. Visualizing the layers of the spell that would shield the House from the inside out, with the strongest here in the HouseHeart, she set her hands against the wall and summoned her Flair.

  She sent spells once, thrice, a dozen times through the House, until it was encased in a glittering diamond sheen in her mind’s eye. Impenetrable, protected.

  Lahsin let her knees collapse and crawled, panting, over to a large fat cushion by the fire and let the heat dry her skin.

  “You have made me very, very beautiful!” the House caroled. “Come outside and look!”

  After she’d cleaned up and changed, she went out and stared at the House. The Turquoise House was permanently that deep color and shiny like it had been fired in enamel.