She visited the tiny HeartHouse with the barely alive HeartStones—which had not been damaged—and sent them energy and love.
Rhyz zoomed around the town, commenting on the business buildings being raised, and Antenn spoke to Muin briefly about the design of his own house—a large one-story lodge.
She joined them in the front of her home by the glider in time to hear Muin request that his place include a sunroom or conservatory.
Avellana took a few minutes to visit with her former governess and friend, and then everyone in the area circled her home and raised new shieldspells on it.
After that, Avellana and Muin and their Fams drove south on a road trip toward Gael City, finally together.
Every day they stopped their journey at a different time and stayed at the home of a friend of Muin’s, usually another FirstFamily ally, in a suite or guesthouse with two bedrooms.
This was the longest period she and Muin had been together by themselves . . . ever. And though they occasionally clashed, more often than not the kilometers passed in harmony between them.
They took a side trip to the Cherry Theater and Resort in the Verde Valley. There they enjoyed a couple of plays, soaked in hot springs . . . and more of the tension of the city unwound within them. Golden moments threaded between them from simply being in love and together . . . until another early-morning wake-up call.
Muin rapped on her bedroom door before dawn and a hissing Rhyz woke her.
With a Word, she bundled herself into a thick robe appropriate for the cool mountain dawn of the Cherry Resort and opened the door.
Muin smiled at her and handed her a cup of strong and steaming caff in a travel tube. Already dressed and groomed, he said, “It’s full twinmoons today and Bicknell and Perna’s babe will be born tonight. If we leave now, we will get there in time.”
His eyes sparkled and she felt high anticipation surging from him. She sipped the tube and considered her lover. Over the course of the week, he appeared to have become a decade younger. She hoped she looked younger, too. She felt younger—and more joyful—than she had in years.
And, now, she did deeply believe that no one would or could separate them.
Yet smiling, Muin said, “Those Vines themselves believe that they have two or three days before the baby arrives. So we will not be expected.”
“You have been careful to vary the lengths of our stays.”
“That’s right.” His expression turned serious. “I don’t want anyone to anticipate where we might be at a given time.”
She nodded. “I have liked the serendipity of our travels. Please give me ten minutes for a quick waterfall and I will be ready.”
“Right. I’m loading our bags. Flora is already in her swing.”
I have barely had time to look around the gardens this morning, Rhyz grumbled. I wanted to lick the dew off the catnip leaves.
“Too bad,” Muin said. “We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”
As Avellana swung the door shut, her Fam darted out. She grabbed the clothes she had already designated as appropriate to meet the Vines and assist Muin in his Oracle capacity, then waved her bags packed.
Pleasure bubbled through her.
• • •
They arrived a septhour after dinner bell.
The younger Vines seemed unsurprised but more belligerent than Vinni had anticipated. Standing on the threshold of the small manor house, a sturdy, dark-haired Bicknell blocked Vinni’s view of Perna, but the emotions flowing to him from his relatives’ bonds included deep wariness.
That irritated him, and he kept that particular feeling from reaching them.
After all, he hadn’t disapproved of their marriage, wouldn’t have, even at six, if he’d been asked. He hadn’t banished them. In fact, he’d sold them the very nice piece of property they now stood on, including the small yellowstone manor.
He approved of them. He’d arrived as the result of Bicknell’s sister’s request, and he would provide a great service to them.
But they remained cool and close to hostile.
He’d sent Rhyz out to scout for any enemy energy that might be tainted with that of the disaffected Vines.
More concerning to him, the man and woman didn’t welcome Avellana warmly, either, but stared at her as if she was weird. Or defective. Or carried a power within her that made her scary.
Only when Flora awoke and hopped out of the glider to join him and Avellana on the doorstep in the confrontation, did Perna step forward, cooing.
“I heard of Flora, but I never met her; may I hold her, please?” Perna asked, her blue-gray gaze meeting Vinni’s own of the same shade, though her long, curly hair showed brown with blond streaks.
“I’ll pick her up for you,” Bicknell replied gruffly.
At another time, Vinni might have offered to get them Fams. Not now, with his nerves scraped and feeling fully as protective of Avellana as Bicknell with Perna.
He inclined his torso and said, “I am sorry to intrude. I am happy to provide Oracle services to you, as Lauda requested. I have acted as Oracle for many others, including Vines.” Pausing, he said, “I do advise you to call your Healer or midwife. I sense the impatience of your babe and that she will be born tonight.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Perna, then her tone softened. “Oh.” Still holding Flora, she moved so the side of her body touched her HeartMate’s. Watching Vinni, she wet her lips. “I feel . . . my body . . . her mind . . . is that what I feel? Her determination to be born?”
“So I believe.” And now they spoke of the baby, a rush of wild, tangled, and unpleasant emotions and sensations shot to him from the three—including the in-womb child—through their Family bonds. He narrowed those links, as well as taking a couple of paces back. Since he held Avellana’s hand, she came, too.
“We wish you well. Merry meet—” he began.
“Wait!” Perna’s voice sharpened, then fell into quiet tones. “Bicknell, don’t you think we can use all the help we can get? And T’Vine as Oracle.”
Bicknell just scowled.
“Lauda likes him. She asked him and he came.” A quick, panting pause. “And it’s really happening, and right now, and I want the very best for our baby . . .”
Their forms merged together, supporting each other, cradling, loving.
Flora, caught between the two, sent humming contentment to them all.
Bicknell broke the embrace. “You go call the midwife-Healer, and rest up!” He took Flora from Perna and put the Fam on the ground, and she hopped to Vinni.
Standing squarely in the middle of the door to the manor, Bicknell met Vinni’s gaze and said, “Perna wants you as Oracle. Will you stay?”
“Of course,” Avellana replied for them both.
Now holding and stroking his Fam himself, Vinni said, “What was the problem here?”
“City people,” Bicknell curled his lip. “And from the primary Vine bloodline.” He let out a breath. “Probably got ideas and attitudes about us that just aren’t right.”
Vinni raised his brows. “And you don’t have such ideas and attitudes about my HeartMate and me?”
Bicknell winced. “You gotta point.” He stepped back and held the door wide. “Come on in.”
Fifteen minutes later, in the room that had been designated as a birthing chamber, Vinni placed his hands on Perna’s abdomen to connect with the new Vine, soothe her a little, maybe. He received another shock and jerked.
“What!” cried Perna. “What’s wrong? Is something wrong with my baby?”
Avellana came over and put her hand on Vinni’s shoulder. When she caught his stunned recognition, his amazement, his delight through their personal bond, she returned love and joy.
“Absolutely no problem with your child!” Vinni announced. He met Bicknell’s gaze. Color had drained from the man’s face. He
dropped from standing next to the bedsponge to a chair.
“What?” His mouth formed the word too quiet to hear.
“How much do you want to know of your babe?”
Bicknell glared. “You already told us the gender of our child, which we asked the Healers not to reveal.”
“Oops,” Vinni said.
Perna patted Bicknell’s biceps. “She will be born tonight, so not so much of a surprise. We have only to trigger the nursery decoration to female from neutral, and we have chosen her name. What else, GreatLord T’Vine?”
“She has great Flair, GentleLady.” He gave Bicknell a half bow. “GentleSir.”
Bicknell narrowed his eyes. “You’re sure.”
“Yes.” More knowledge of the babe filtered through to him, mostly through his connection with her mother, but he decided to keep his conjectures to himself until the babe came.
Avellana gave a slight cough. “I would be pleased to gift you with a mural for your child if you have any free wall space in the nursery.”
The couple stared at her. Bicknell’s lip curled slightly. “You won’t put any Hopeful religious crap mural on the walls, will you?”
Avellana’s spine snapped straight and her sincere smile froze on her face. Vinni put his arm around her waist, helped her shunt aside the hurt at the insult.
“I am a professional holo painter. I accept commissions. You can tell me what you would like to have on the baby’s wall. I have done murals of the Lady and Lord, or panoramas of a particular view, such as cityscapes of the starship Nuada’s Sword, or a portion of the path up the Great Labyrinth, or a special sacred grove throughout the seasons.”
Perna poked Bicknell, and Vinni got the idea the woman sent a scathing comment to her husband telepathically.
“My apologies,” he muttered.
“We would love to have a mural. What of Maroon Beach? That’s where Bicknell and I wed.”
“I have done that often. If you have any scrys or memory vizes of the wedding ritual, I can include that. I would be glad to lightpaint such joyful moments.”
“A portrait of her parents on the wall,” Vinni murmured.
“Sounds great!” Bicknell said a little too heartily, then switched his attention to his lady as she grimaced with a contraction. “When will the babe come?”
“I don’t know,” Perna whispered, then licked her lips. “The midwife-Healer is on her way.”
“Good,” Vinni said. “I think . . .” He looked at Bicknell and lifted his brows.
“Please tell me your idea,” the man asked.
“From my experience, in the next two septhours.”
Bicknell let out a shuddering sigh, dipped his head. “Thank you.” Glancing at his HeartMate, he cleared his throat. “Ah, my sister said you might be interested in staying in the cottage on the grounds tonight?”
“Thank you for your offer, GentleSir Vine,” Vinni said. “We would appreciate that, and can leave in the morning. My duties for you will be done by then, and I’m sure Avellana can create an excellent mural while we all wait for the babe.”
“Call me Bicknell, GreatLord.” When his wife released his fingers, he stood. “I’ll show you the cottage. GreatMistrys Hazel, I will get some pics and scrys of our wedding ritual for you.”
“That would be wonderful,” Avellana said.
• • •
Inspiration blessed Avellana that evening and she finished the mural in a septhour. Of course she had painted Maroon Beach more than a dozen times so she knew the background well, and could include the inbound flowing tide, the color of the sky, ocean, and seafoam in spring. In the wedding vizes, the couple appeared blissfully happy, and her irritation at Bicknell’s comment on her religion easily faded.
Bicknell, Perna, and the midwife-Healer complimented Avellana on her work before Perna’s heavy contractions brought the decorating of the nursery to an end.
Muin appeared to approve of the bustling and efficient Healer, and that pleased Avellana because she knew he would have been high-handed and dragged in a different midwife if he disliked the woman. That would have returned irritation among them all.
Now, in the last half septhour of Muin’s estimate, Avellana waited outside the birthing chamber with him. He had told her that with the strength of the Flair emanating from the unborn child, he would not need to be in the room itself. Avellana thought he respected Perna’s privacy. She and her husband had decided they did not want a FirstFamily GreatLord in the room with them.
Avellana had not contemplated the details of this particular duty of Muin’s before—the Oracle, a person with foresight or prophecy, who could see what training might be best for a child. Or, in the case of the nobility, who should be the next heir to the woman or man who held the title.
Muin would probably not often be outside the chamber. She would have to ask him how many babies he had seen born and whether he had ever helped other than holding the baby and using his Flair.
He remained smiling and relaxed while Avellana suppressed the urge to pace, waiting for the baby to arrive. Such a tiny package of potential!
Then Muin stood, staring at the door. No more than a few seconds later a newborn’s cry echoed—through the manor house and in Avellana’s mind. Hurt, anger, a touch of fear.
A bond between the child and Muin snapped into place, Familial, a tiny, sparkling flow, and the cry turned into a grunt of surprise. Avellana saw the glinting silver link, felt the new energy of it added to all of the other bonds Muin held.
Then she felt the enveloping awe and love wrapping around the baby girl from her parents, the rush of affection from Muin, the delight and satisfaction of the midwife-Healer. Avellana blinked at the echoing vibrations of the baby’s feelings to Muin and to her down their bond.
Muin strode to the door and opened it. Avellana glimpsed the baby lying on her mother’s chest, already cleansed.
The door swung shut and Avellana leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes, extending her senses, so she could experience as much as possible what Muin did. A couple of minutes passed, and then she heard Muin’s voice echo in her head—a strong telepathic announcement that matched words he said aloud.
I SEE that this child, Floricoma Vine, possesses great Flair and that the Flair is for prophecy. I acknowledge her now as a Vine, with the Vine Flair, and as my heir until I have a child from my own seed.
That rocked Avellana—and everyone else in the manor. She blinked at the idea. Of course Muin would have considered children as more than vague images. She felt ashamed that she hadn’t. But their children would have Flair. Muin’s, of course, but the Families that stood behind them, their parents and grandparents, might pass down their Flair. She said a tiny prayer to the Journey of the Four that her and Muin’s children would not inherit her Flair.
And she had missed some of Muin’s broadcast.
A very strongly Flaired child, a blessed child with excellent parents.
“Is she healthy?” demanded Perna.
I feel no problem with her Flair or her flow of her psi power, Muin commented telepathically, and this very good midwife-Healer told you she is physically and mentally whole and exceptional.
Sorrow twinged through Avellana. She had been an exceptional child physically . . . and another new thought entered her head. Perhaps she had remained so. Perhaps had she been less physically strong she would not have survived, no matter how many FirstLevel Healers had put her poor skull together after she had tried to fly.
Yes. Her spine straightened and she felt the tensile strength of that. She was physically strong. Though she knew her brain occasionally misfired, that she had a few blank moments, that she became obsessive about minor issues that other people would not even notice.
But she practiced all the mental and Flair exercises she had been taught.
“Will she have a long life?�
� Bicknell demanded.
Muin hesitated a split second, though Avellana didn’t think any of the others noticed. He answered, A long and prosperous life.
More like he repeated than he assured. She felt the doubt . . . saw the blurred cloud over the babe in these first months.
Oh, no!
Avellana sensed Muin trying to probe the fog, and understood at the same time he did that the reason for the mistiness might be that this small Family was associated with them—Muin and herself.
She sighed.
“May I invite Avellana Hazel into the room?” Muin asked.
“Of course,” Perna agreed.
So Avellana entered the room.
“Your heir, GreatLord T’Vine? Our Floricoma?” Bicknell demanded, his face angry.
Avellana began to close the door behind her, but the midwife-Healer picked up her bags and, with a big smile, said, “I think I’ll wait outside.”
“I trust in your Healer confidentiality,” Muin stated, all FirstFamily GreatLord.
“Of course!” She slid through the door, obviously sensitive to Family dynamics.
“Yes, Bicknell, I spoke correctly. Floricoma has enough Flair for prophecy to be my heir,” Muin stated. He did not look at Avellana but held out his hand. She joined him and placed her fingers into his.
“As you may or may not know, Avellana has been attacked.”
Perna gasped; Bicknell stared stonily out the window at the night.
“Perhaps because she is my HeartMate and members of the Family don’t like that.”
“You think relatives might have attacked her!” Perna gasped. “Why?”
“Because, as we discussed when we met, some of our relatives have rigid attitudes about our Family. As you, yourselves, have experienced.”
“You can’t bring us into this,” Bicknell said roughly. “You can’t put us at risk, Head of the Household.” He leaned over Perna and Floricoma, sheltering them.
“I will do my best to protect you,” Muin stated. “As I so promised during the Loyalty Ceremony.” He paused. “What you probably don’t know about this situation is that should anything happen to Avellana, we are bound closely enough together that I would die, also.”
Heart Sight Page 31