With emotions finally catching up with him, Vinni put ice in his tone. “You can join other former guards as mercenaries along the Plano Strait. It’s a hard life, but—”
“No.” The man actually ground his teeth. His nostrils widened. “I’ll get a job southa here, with a minor Family. A more conservative Family.”
“As you wish. Residence.” Vinni raised his voice.
“Yes, FirstFamily GreatLord T’Vine?” asked the House.
“Assign a staffer to pack Plicat’s personal items.”
Plicat sneered. “I don’t need nuthin’ here.”
A knock on the door came, and Duon gestured it open. A guardswoman stood at the threshold, leaning back a bit as she caught the stench.
Duon said, “Escort this man from the Residence.”
“I felt the sundering of the bonds between this man and the Family.” She swallowed. “Come along, Plicat No-Name.”
Though Plicat staggered, no one offered to help him.
The door shut behind them and Vinni’s scry pebble lilted with Avellana’s lushly romantic tune. Duon appeared pained. Vinni ignored him and answered.
“Muin, I am teleporting to the pad on Large Beardtongue Street now, so I can walk to old Downwind and our meeting.”
“I’ll be right behind you.” He couldn’t help himself. “You have your armor and amulet?”
Her brows raised. “Yes, Muin.” She smiled and glee lit her eyes. “And I have my blazer pistol. I am tired of being reactive in this matter.”
“Av—”
But she’d signed off.
“Avellana Hazel with a blazer,” Duon said hollowly. “Has she practiced any?”
Vinni was forced to say, “I don’t know. I’ll leave the cleanup of this mess in your hands.”
“I’ll confiscate Plicat’s personal things, examine them,” Duon said. “You want my resignation?”
“Absolutely not. Blessed be.” Vinni teleported away.
Thirty-six
Vinni arrived on the thin and shabby pad at Large Beardtongue Street, glanced around for Avellana, and found her talking to a young, handsome, and fashionable man.
Jealousy speared and primitive feelings resurged.
She should not even know such a guy. When had she met him? When he turned, he nodded to Vinni as if they knew each other, then hurried to the teleportation pad and away. Vinni realized the man had been waiting for him to arrive before leaving.
“He looks very well, does he not?” Avellana asked as she tucked her arm into Vinni’s elbow when he came up to her. He’d planned on kissing her, but she’d turned and begun to walk so he reluctantly followed her lead.
“Who?” he asked.
Blinking up at him, she said, “Remy Gardenia, former Chief Minister Younger.” Her laugh rippled. “You did not recognize him?”
“No.”
“Hmmm. Well, he has not truly revealed that he belongs to the Intersection of Hope religion. He is studying with the mind Healer, FirstFamily GrandLady D’Sea.”
“Oh.” Minister, mind Healer, not at all like Vinni, who faced several flaws today.
He strolled by an alley and a whiff of chill air hit him. He smelled . . . something odd. Sort of attractive but with a germ of decay. Strange for an alley near a main teleportation pad. People tended to keep those clean. He stopped.
Avellana gazed up at him. “What is it, Muin?”
The touch of cold had settled in the top of his spine. He turned toward the opening. “There’s something about this alley.” He took a step in.
“We will be late if we detour,” she said.
He looked down at her, took her hand from his arm. “You go ahead. I want to check this out.”
Her mouth pursed. “We should be prompt, and be seen as a unit to all who observe. As for Tosa WhitePoplar, she knows that you are also a landowner and community member of Multiplicity.”
“Go ahead.” He put a little emphasis in his tone.
She huffed out a breath. “No. I will accompany you.”
“You have your blazer pistol?” The words surprised him as much as her. But before he’d done more than finish the sentence, her pursenal had disappeared and she held the small pistol he’d given her by her side, in the folds of her long and fully cut tunic.
“Let us go. I will be at your back,” she said so seriously that it lightened the instant.
“There is no one I’d rather have there.”
She snorted. “I would like Holm Holly behind us.” Her quick glance showed determination. “Do you want me to shout telepathically to my Holly trainer?”
“No, Avellana.”
He stepped into the alley, found it wider and shorter than he’d thought, well lit. The beige brick walls held layered spells. He walked around a couple of crates, trying to find the smell of death and deterioration. Nothing.
“What are you looking for, Muin?” Avellana asked.
He narrowed his eyes. “Do you smell anything?”
Her head rose as she inhaled, and her nose twitched. “Automatic cleansing spells.” She frowned. “I think daily, or perhaps nightly.” A sniff. “Rodent and other vermin deterrent.”
Casually he asked, “How does the air feel to you?” As he stood in the concrete alley, the thin soles of his summer shoes soaked up cold in the atmosphere of invisible droplets of cool mist surrounding him.
Avellana stood straight, slowly trod up to him, turned, and he sensed she tried to feel the air on her face and neck and hands, the only skin bared by her formal clothes. “The light reflecting off the spells adds heat to this passageway, and there is more humidity in the air from the ocean than usual.”
“All right.” With a soft-footed, fighting glide he traversed the alley. Nothing threatened. His own blazer ready, he hopped out into the cross-path at the end, swinging left, then right. No one.
His heart had thumped hard, preparing for danger, and now edginess whistled down his nerves at the aftermath of the dump of adrenaline. He swung around and saw an alert Avellana with her back to him, her pistol still at her side. Guarding him from the street.
Glancing up, he saw the building to his right rose three stories and the one to his left only two. Both roofs were peaked so snow would slide off during the winter, but both looked like they had small walkways along the edges. If worse came to worst, he—even Avellana—could ’port up to a roof. But nothing threatened from above, or from the third-story windows of the taller structure.
He sent to her mentally, Avellana, activate your armor.
She murmured the spellword, and he glanced back, saw the shimmer of air around her. A flash hit beside him and the odor of singed concrete rose.
“Put down your blazer,” Armen said.
Vinni turned to face him. ’Port! he ordered Avellana telepathically.
No! I am PROTECTED, you are NOT!
“She ’ports away and my cohort will kill you,” Armen said conversationally. Vinni extended his senses, found Plicat behind the third-story window.
“Plicat.” Armen raised his voice.
“I am here, and I have a blazer pointed at the mutant. I have nothing more to lose.” Plicat’s words boomed around the alley.
Vinni pulled on a mask of impassivity and sent a quick spurt of telecommunication to Avellana. Remain expressionless. We will have to coordinate our response.
I can do that, she said, and from the corner of his eye he saw her face set in an interested expression . . . that he recognized. How many times had she used that on him when she’d been thinking of other things?
I cannot call Rhyz, she returned to him. He is hunting and his mind is not available to me.
I’m yelling to Flora to wake up and get to my Chief of Guards, Vinni replied. He should be able to trace me through our bond.
That will take time. It i
s best if we handle this ourselves, Avellana replied calmly.
Armen had been a better fighter, trained longer than Vinni, worked at it every day.
Not quite as fast as Vinni was, though. Not as deceptively competent as Avellana. And not nearly as Flaired as either of them, let alone the both of them together. But though Avellana’s mental speech had been fine, her body had frozen. Vinni needed to give her enough time to soak in and accept the situation.
He moved to step in front of her, locked a stare on Armen. “So. Here you are. Slinking around back alleys with a blazer, shooting at people, city guards looking to arrest you, instead of walking the halls of a FirstFamily Residence as second-in-command, admired and respected.”
All the features of Armen’s face twisted in evil.
“A FirstFamily Residence and a Family who will have a mutant freak and a fliggering Hopeful abomination as the GreatLady. I don’t want to be part of a Family like that. Family can only go downhill.”
“She is not the freak, the abomination, you are.” Vinni coated his words with disgust.
“Not true! I am normal!”
“I hope not, because you are unthinking and cruel. Avellana has never assaulted anyone, has never attempted murder, has never even thought of murder. You have. You have stalked her and made her life a misery.”
Armen shrugged off the words Vinni hoped would infuriate him. “Nearly got her a coupla times. She, and you, got lucky at the baths when I set up that personal pool for you.”
“You killed Phae Thermarum.”
“Of course I didn’t. He’s safe. A little battered and not liking the accommodations we gave him, but safe.”
For an instant, Armen flashed on where he’d stashed Phae, distracting Vinni.
“We?” Vinni asked. Grief flooded him that another Vine had betrayed him.
Armen’s teeth showed in a grimace, not a smile. “My real boss—”
“Duon?” Vinni questioned.
Armen snorted. “Not him, he’s your man through and through.”
“Good to know.”
“My leader, the leader of the whole Traditionalist Stance movement—”
Vinni huffed. “I was afraid of that.”
“Stop interrupting me!”
Inclining his torso a bit, Vinni said, “You were saying that your real leader, who, I believe, is a Vine? . . .” He kept his gaze scanning the alley, his senses focused on Avellana.
He had heard her say the Word to initiate her personal armor, so he tried not to let the huge inner relief that she was safe weaken him. Her armor would protect her, but he didn’t know how blazer fire acted on it, how much energy the spell would absorb.
“She is unnatural and doesn’t deserve to live,” Armen said, as if repeating a mantra.
Vinni cleared his throat. “She is my HeartMate,” he reminded gently.
“Nope. Don’t think so. Nope.”
“Saille T’Willow verified that.”
“Now, that I know about. He said you’d say that, but he said you lied.”
“And you believe whoever this he is more than me?”
“Acourse! He’s more like me than you’ll ever be.”
“Don’t you realize that the Loyalty Oath goes both ways? I swear to protect you.”
“You ain’t,” Armen said decidedly. “You’re too blinded by her.”
“How have I failed to protect you?”
“You will.”
“I’ve done nothing. You only think I will do something to endanger you. What?”
“Not sure, but you’re under her spell, you’ll do it. After she’s gone, we’ll find your true HeartMate for you.”
“So you have no judgment of me of your own? Only what your leader said?”
“He knows you better, so he’s right.”
“Did this leader swear an oath to you like I did? Why do you think he has your interests at heart and isn’t just using you?”
“He wouldn’t do that.” Armen sounded shocked.
Vinni made a point of staring around. “He’s not here. You are. You’re the one with the blazer in your hand ready to assassinate the Head of your Household you swore a Loyalty Oath to.”
“You just got to step aside.”
“So it’s easier for you to believe two lies by that he than my truth?”
“He said it again and again, so it must be true.”
A jolt of sheer uncomprehending shock came from Avellana. Then her thoughts zoomed and she sent mentally, We cannot win this argument. We cannot break through his blind certainty about my character and yours.
I know. Be ready to move.
I am.
“And, you know, Avellana will take a Loyalty Oath to protect you, too, when she is D’Vine.”
Armen spat, “Fliggering mutant abomination . . .”
“You think so? Tell me . . .”
Vinni let the man rant while eyeing the slightly protruding windowsill to the right and one story over Armen’s head. If Vinni were Holm Holly, he could do a Flaired leap to that ledge, hit it, twist in midair, and come down on Armen, engage in the fight. But he wasn’t that skilled.
But he bet he could do something with the second-story roof, come down on Armen on his left, his bad side, even better. He’d take the chance.
Avellana sent back a wash of determination. I can get Plicat! Jump on the sill and fire through the window!
On my mark, Vinni said mentally.
Yes.
He fought for his life, for his HeartMate’s. He fought for honor and the future. Fury surged and he controlled it, let it give him a sharp edge.
Go in three. One, Muin T’Vine. Two, HeartMate love. THREE!
With all the will and determination he had, he wrenched the blazer from Armen’s grasp, saw a stream go wild. Thought he heard bones breaking and a gasp, but Vinni moved, leaping with another boost of Flair to the roof of the building, plummeted down onto Armen, and went hand-to-hand.
He heard glass break, a blazer zing, and a cry, not Avellana’s.
The fight-vision link between the two of them snapped into being; he saw Armen reach for a knife and kicked it away. Then Vinni took him all the way down, hissing the next words. “Since yours is an offense against the Family, let the Family take care of it.” Steeling himself, he snapped the bonds with Armen.
“No, no, no!” the man screamed, shuddering.
Hard sets of bootsteps thundered in the alley.
Another blazer appeared in Armen’s hand. He put his blazer in his mouth and shot. Brains and blood splattered the pavement and the alley walls, the stench of seared flesh and pungent death.
Avellana shrieked, fell. Vinni saw her hit the ground and bounce, then heard a displacement of air as her protective amulet teleported her away to Primary HealingHall.
Good. Vinni hadn’t often seen violent death, and Avellana never.
Captain Winterberry and Garrett Primross rushed past Vinni to the body.
Vinni let them do their jobs.
Thirty-seven
Avellana arrived at the Druida Guard station before Vinni finished laying everything out for Captain Ilex Winterberry, Garrett Primross, and Vinni’s own Chief of Guards, Duon. That man knew Plicat and Armen the best and had schedules, reviews, and reports the others could pore over. The guards and investigators bonded well since they embodied common characteristics.
Vinni was a FirstFamilies GreatLord, with other responsibilities. They dismissed him—and Avellana—and he welcomed their dismissal.
Avellana stayed only to report on the health of Phae Thermarum—good—who’d shown up at the HealingHall accompanied by the guards Winterberry had sent to rescue him.
Vinni and Avellana let the investigators work and left the guardhouse. They walked slowly along back streets and alleys, something they could
n’t avoid forever so better get used to them again quickly. Vinni kept his arm around her waist, glad he could touch her again.
Avellana looked at her scry pebble playing the tune she had assigned for him—the same one he’d given her. Her brows rose. “A letter note from you, saying to meet you at the garden teleportation pad of the hotel near the Great Labyrinth.”
“Interesting,” Vinni gritted out. “As if we letter note between us instead of scry. I always want to see you.” He hauled in a breath. “No doubt a trap by the other villain Armen spoke of, his leader.” He paused. “Duon reported to his guards and the Family that I went to the Guard station and you’re at the HealingHall. So Armen’s master feels safe in luring you while you might be upset and confused.”
“Yes.” She stilled for a moment as if shuffling aside her last sight of Armen. Then she set her jaw. “Should we go see . . . ?”
“No.”
Her brows dipped. “I was not lured. And I have my amulet on and my armor available at a Word. I used them before, I can use them again.”
Vinni blinked as she recorded a message and sent it to him. His scry pebble did not sound. With a sigh, he said, “Someone in the Family is managing to divert your calls to me. Probably mine to you, too. I don’t know how that works.”
“I do not, either. I am sure others do, however. Captain of the Druida City Guards Ilex Winterberry and the private investigator, liaison to the FirstFamilies, Garrett Primross. They will inform us when we ask, later.”
Vinni grunted. “So you will meet ‘me’ at the Great Labyrinth hotel in ten minutes, eh?”
“Yes.”
“At least we know our other Vine betrayer doesn’t think you as weak as Plicat and Armen did.”
“I suppose not. Especially since he believes I can teleport after such a shock and to the Great Labyrinth. Though I suppose he believes I will do it in segments along the waystations instead of arriving directly at the hotel.”
Vinni studied her demure expression. “Can you teleport directly to the hotel?”
Heart Sight Page 36