Heart Sight

by Robin D. Owens

  “I thought Arcto teleported away,” Avellana said.

  He ran before that, legs still moving when he disappeared. Rhyz sniffed and his fur rippled over his back in disdain. He said he and stups like him making a town like Multiplicity to live RIGHT.

  “I think that would be opposite Multiplicity and our standards,” Avellana replied.

  Rhyz trotted up and around them. Catnip and catmint and other interesting plants up from here. Will see You when You get there, walking slow, slow, slow like all the peoples do.

  “Fine with me,” Vinni said. He held Flora and walked hand in hand with Avellana. Perhaps none of them sank into a trance, but they stayed pleasantly calm.

  Eventually Flora wanted down, and she and Rhyz made brief side trips before joining them as they spiraled up the crater.

  Near the top of the labyrinth, several Families had planted overarching arborous tunnels, filled with the brightness of summer blooms and their heady fragrance. The last featured incredible roses; the Rose Family had decided to take one of the first areas of the path down for their shrine. Vinni’d doubted the choice, but GrandLady D’Rose had been cannier than he’d given her credit for.

  Her floral business hadn’t suffered, either.

  They came out of the arbor, exchanging loving tenderness, and a movement snagged Vinni’s gaze.

  In the near distance, holding a bouquet of multicolored roses, stood Gwydion Ash, no protective amulet hanging from his neck, not even a weathershield wrapped around him.

  “What are you doing here, Gwydion?” Vinni demanded.

  The young man smiled sheepishly. “Oops. I’m only here for a minute, maybe two. To collect Mother’s favorite roses from D’Rose’s offering. Not far from the lip of the labyrinth, four meters, max. Not really in it.” He waved the flowers, and to Vinni’s horror, a flung bee landed on Gwydion’s throat, buzzed.

  Stung.

  Gwydion slapped at it, then stared at his swelling hand, opened and closed his mouth. His throat turned puffy with a red blotch beginning to streak. He fell. And, as the allergen spread through his body, Gwydion began to die.

  Vinni felt the skin over his face tighten, and all his muscles. Shock rippled through him. He’d taken care to avoid a specific event like this. Vinni had warned the boy! What had possessed him?

  The fatal stupidity of youth.

  He and Avellana rushed forward. Vinni grunted as he picked up the unconscious boy and flung him over his shoulder, ran a few meters uphill toward the crater rim. Still can’t teleport out. Don’t walk the spiral path. Push up the damn incline to the lip of the labyrinth, through thick and thorny brush.

  Gwydion stopped breathing. The feel of his body changed.

  Sweat ran down Vinni’s face as he reached his own limits, pushed beyond them. No effort too much.

  Avellana ran next to him, panting, talking high and loud. “This is my fault. I must help. I must save him, resurrect him. Put him down, Muin.”

  Surprised, dizzy with the effort, and slumping, he did, just over the crater’s rim. Could teleport now.

  Pale skin, eyes closed, death had claimed Gwydion Ash.

  Too late.

  “Must save him,” Avellana cried.

  Vinni grabbed and held her, hoped she wouldn’t persist, because if she did, he’d have to let her go.

  “You’re reacting. Not thinking clearly. This can’t be your fault.”

  “It is! This all stems from the time I saved Flora!” Avellana wriggled.

  “That can’t be true.” Desperation began to steal through him, shooting up his pulse rate, his breathing. Lord and Lady, why did she believe this dangerous notion? How could he dissuade her? She would give her life for Gwydion’s. He knew it. Hers and his.

  “When I pulled all the life force, all the energy from everyone at T’Ash Residence that day—”

  “None of us died,” he murmured.

  “But it left weaknesses in us all. I had more brain problems, you had less control of your Flair. Rhyz has a heart murmur he did not have before. Abutilon Gwydion has this allergy to insect stings.” She wrenched at him. “Let me go.”

  He did. “Your logic is faulty.”

  “You think I did not keep up with the Ash Family? That I did not research the Ashes and the Mallows? I did. No previous signs of such an affliction has shown before in their lines.”

  “The Mallows were Commoners, their line would not be well tracked—”

  “We must do something now!” She fell to her knees, put her head on Gwydion’s chest. “Not breathing. No heartbeat. My fault!” She straightened, grabbing Vinni’s hand. Their energy flowed together; their Flair merged.

  Avellana would save the young man.

  Vinni and she would die.

  The whole verdant labyrinth, too.

  So mote it be.

  I AM HERE! I KNOW WHAT HE SEES AND HEARS AND FEELS AND I WILL HELP KEEP HIM HERE! Flora screamed, landing on Gwydion’s chest with a thump.

  “I don’t want to lose you, too,” Vinni muttered, then heard his words. He’d pour his entire strength into Avellana, backing up her gift, drain himself. If she died, he would be so linked with her they’d circle the Wheel of Stars together until their next lives beckoned. No surviving even a year without his HeartBonded mate. No reason to. He’d put his affairs in good order.

  In that first minute, he might have been able to stop her. Point out they could die, not only her, but him.

  But he sensed the danger of stopping her. Her eyes had gone blank. Already she began to gather thousands of the life threads in the labyrinth. What would happen if he shocked her to the reality around them?

  • • •

  Avellana yanked her fingers from Muin’s, flung herself across Abutilon Gwydion, and placed one hand on his chest over his stopped heart, the other on the sting.

  First she pulled the toxin from his body, then she sensed all the plant, animal, and human life in the labyrinth.

  The whole of the great crater and all the lives it held seemed to open in her brain, wove in fascinating colorful threads in a complex pattern.

  She could set options.

  No animals. No humans.

  Do not link and pull their energy.

  Delve deep, deep, deep into the earth, find a thread or two of each of the abundant plants carpeting the huge bowl, pull from them to save Abutilon Gwydion Ash.

  She chanted his name in her head, felt his spirit, kept that confused soul hovering near.

  Muin sat down behind her, embraced her. Together. Yes, they would do this together, save Abutilon Gwydion, whom she had harmed before.

  Slowly, she drew energy from the thousands of threads of the plants around her. Just a little from each life. That should be sufficient, she hoped.

  And as she did so, she realized the huge amount of Flair it cost her.

  Draining, draining, draining her strength.

  Didn’t matter. So close, so very close, she drew the spirit down to the body, began tucking it in.

  Knew she would need just . . . a . . . little . . . more. What else could she use?

  Warmth radiated against her chest. The protective amulet! Yes! She yanked it off with her mind, translocated it to inside Abutilon Gwydion’s tunic. When she brought him back, his thready heartbeat would initiate his teleportation to Primary HealingHall.

  Something else, some other power source within her—the personal armor.

  She initiated the armor, used the power of it, too, yes, enough. Her world began to spin and she toppled over. She did not know if she had the strength to keep breathing.

  An instant of horror filled her. She was dying. Worse, she was taking Muin with her.

  Do some— Her thoughts faded.

  • • •

  With the last bit of energy Vinni had, he yelled telepathically to the st
rongest man he’d ever known, T’ASH, COME TO THE GREAT LABYRINTH TO SAVE YOUR SON. Vinni got through to someone—T’Ash, D’Ash, Gwydion’s siblings, maybe T’Ash Residence, “heard” mental exclamations.

  Enough.

  Vinni’s eyes began to dim; his mind gave him a coalescing vision of a huge sparkling silver ring. The Wheel of Stars that led to rebirth calling to his spirit. Dying then. His sense of touch diminished and he only felt the fading warmth of Avellana’s body near his own. With a strained murmur of his mind, he pled, Stay with me. Don’t go . . . first.

  He thought she shuddered. Together!

  And then, on the opposite rim of the crater, stood a woman. Obviously a vision, because she towered in the sky. Slowly Vinni’s eyelids lowered at the bright aura around her, but he wanted to see, note the blue-green ocean color of her eyes, the rich brown Celtan earth tone of her skin.

  When his lashes rose, she did not stand alone, but a man, a warrior, rested one hand on the hilt of his sword and another on her shoulder.

  Vinni thought he smiled. The Lord and Lady, the deities he’d prayed to and celebrated and thanked all of his life. Comforting.

  He didn’t know what Avellana saw, but heard her murmur, The Spirits of the Journey.

  The Lady’s aquamarine gaze seemed to spear into him.

  I will do this one thing, she said, then raised her arms, swayed. Lightning and thunder and wind struck around them in a huge burst from boiling gray clouds that appeared in a summer blue sky. I will do this for you only. Fight and survive. Or not. She—they—raised their arms and called the furious storm.

  GO! he ordered the Fams. Teleport out of here, now! Go to the hotel!

  No! cried Flora, then, Too late.

  Perhaps they’d live. Both Fams had lost their people before. Lord and Lady, let them be fine.

  I love you, Muin. Let us go.

  A tiny feathery sensation on his hand.

  I love you, Avellana. Let’s go, together, and be together again.

  Yesss. We will always face what comes together.

  He barely felt the huge droplets of rain pouring down onto his face as he closed his eyes and followed the spark who was Avellana toward the Wheel of Stars.

  He let go; their sparks spiraled around each other, drew together, nearly merged, and just as they hit the outer aura of the Wheel of Stars, true blackness yanked him somewhere else, and he heard screaming.

  Forty

  Three days later, Vinni sat with Avellana in a private, walled courtyard in Primary HealingHall. Today they got to wear regular clothes and weapons.

  Avellana looked too damn thin. T’Vine Residence held several cooks, and he’d be shaking up the staff, for sure. Why not have a competition to find the one who tempted Avellana to eat?

  Easier to think on that than the fact that she’d shut him away. He couldn’t reach her. She hadn’t thought the cost might be their lives.

  Or their fertility.

  Or that many of the plants in the Great Labyrinth would wither, partially or wholly.

  Everyone else thought he and she had been caught in a freak storm of nature people called “The Great Labyrinth Blight.”

  T’Ash had found them, of course. Had dropped protective amulets on each of them so they’d arrive at Primary HealingHall and be saved. The GreatLord had teleported beyond his usual range with a father’s desperation.

  He’d needed Healing, too.

  As ailing HeartMates, Avellana and Vinni had shared a bedsponge, and she’d unfortunately awoken when FirstLevel Healer Ura Heather had been informing him brusquely that, like the plants of the Great Labyrinth, their fertility had been compromised.

  They couldn’t have children.

  Whimpering cries had come from her, then she’d silenced herself and a thick, impenetrable veil of despair had risen between them, shrouding their bond.

  Worse than when they’d died, because then they had been together, now she kept herself to herself.

  He’d sent loving feelings into that swallowing darkness, murmured words of support, but she hadn’t responded.

  Her Family had visited, of course, and, thank the Lady and Lord, had only provided love and support, too. No scolding. No smothering pampering. No major drama.

  The Hazels had won weak smiles and hugs from Avellana, but she hadn’t whispered one word.

  She’d closed down, had refused to see any mind Healer, had even put off her Hopeful Ministers.

  Her Family guessed, of course, that Avellana had practiced her primary Flair and sent three people to the HealingHall. If they talked about that among themselves, Vinni didn’t know. They didn’t speak of it to him, and they’d understand that he had no intention of saying anything.

  T’Ash knew the secret, too. And he’d share it with his HeartMate, but Vinni believed that only the five of them—himself, Avellana, Gwydion, T’Ash, and D’Ash—would know for sure what happened.

  Other people in the labyrinth had seen visions of the Lord and Lady, felt a storm rolling over them. But no one else had been harmed.

  Only the plants of the Great Labyrinth.

  And Vinni and Avellana.

  Vinni knew damn well that Avellana would never use her primary power again.

  As for the Great Labyrinth, plans for reseeding and replacing the plants had already begun, by the Families who had shrines there and by volunteers of Druida City for the general greenery. The Clovers would descend on the bowl en masse.

  The FirstFamilies would meet in the Great Labyrinth the next full twinmoons, the beginning of the month of Hazel, and raise energy to Heal old growth and encourage the new plants.

  That would be in a week and a half. Vinni was sure he’d have his Avellana back by then.

  He hoped.

  But for now they sat on a stone bench in a small and lovely garden of bright flowers and lush bushes, and Avellana didn’t say anything.

  Touch would be best. He’d held her, and kept her fingers clasped in his own, and, of course, wanted to love with her, but would not seduce.

  There might be too much distance between them, so he lifted her onto his lap, keeping his arms loosely around her.

  He paused his patter of words.

  “I need you, Avellana,” he whispered. “I need you to let your grief go now.”

  She flinched.

  “We’re in this together. Don’t go away from me, stay away from me. In my blindness I sent you away too damn often. Now we face things together, remember?” He lifted her palm to his face, left it there with the press of his fingers.

  The thick cotton fog of guilt and grief and despair seemed to part a little, just big enough for her body. A narrow glittering dark path toward one bright star showed—one meter of it, and only as wide as a tightrope. One foot in front of the other only.

  She did not think she had the courage to step upon it.

  But the bright and shining star of Muin beckoned, and more of his words sizzled through the numbness and hit her ears, wrenched at her. She thought he had been speaking for a while, and he had slept near, but nothing much had touched her.

  Only the grayness and the guilt and the failure.

  “I need you, Avellana.”

  Yes, those words reached her, went straight to her heart. She took a step or two along the slick-looking path.

  “We face situations together!”

  Yes, that was correct, but though she saw the path, the fog smothered the large glowing HeartBond between herself and Muin.

  “Avellana!” he called. “Come back to me.”

  The fetid thick mist pressed around her. She had failed so spectacularly. She slipped on the path, windmilled. What would happen if she fell?

  But she caught her balance. She hated falling. This whole Flair of hers had been due to falling at three. She had hurt her brain, and it had not Healed
right.

  Probably good that she could not have children. Her whole being seemed to slosh with tears as she proceeded.

  “I love you, Avellana.”

  Yes. She had known his love forever and now that bright light showed yellow on the cloud bank of despair around her.

  She loved Muin, too.

  And they would face her failure, her deficiencies, together.

  Hard to admit she had been so very wrong.

  As he had been. In the past.

  He had the courage to admit that, to mend his actions, to allow her to remain in the city against all of his instincts and fearful visions.

  Muin was strong, and he could teach her to be stronger, too.

  She heard the beat of his heart under her ear, found the lovely warmth cradling her was his arms. She sat on his lap.

  Slowly, slowly, the thick haze diminished and she discovered herself in a beautiful garden.

  The Great Labyrinth had been a beautiful garden. Once. Before she had killed it.

  Her hands went to Muin’s thinner face and she met his gaze with her own courage. “I . . . I,” her whisper rasped, “nearly died, but worse. I nearly killed you!” A harsh moan rattled in her chest, a sob that couldn’t quite make it out.

  He rocked her, stroking her hair. “Beloved.”

  “I cannot stand it that I hurt so many, that you nearly died.”

  “I might have prevented you,” he said matter-of-factly.

  She stared at him sideways. “You think so?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  A breath jerked from her in pants. “I do not know.”

  “I have an heir, Floricoma,” he said calmly. “She will be fine, and is a prized member of the Family already. That’s enough.” A small pause. “You need to open our bond, Avellana.”

  “I cannot even feel it!” The words tore from her. And to her horror, painful cries followed the words. She could not feel their bond.

  She could not cry.

  “I failed so very badly. I drained us all.” Her voice broke. “Us, our Fams, up to death.”