Lost Heart
A Celta Novella
Robin D. Owens
Follow Your Heart
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Author’s Notes
About the Author
Also by Robin D. Owens
Copyright © 2016 by Follow Your Heart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations (under 250 words) in a book review.
COVER ART
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To All the Readers Who Love Celta
Chapter 1
Druida City, Celta, 421 years after Colonization, End of Summer
"We have authorized a matchmaker session for you, Barton," Walker Clover stated.
Barton stared at his brother who seemed to have gone mad. Why was he talking about matchmakers? "This wasn't the reason I came to report to you," Barton said.
“Then why?”
“To report on my efforts to find Savi and Balansa.” He hated to admit that he, the Chief of Security for the Clover Family, had failed. He’d misplaced two Family members, both too young to be out on their own, he felt the weight of that guilt.
“We’re talking about you, right now.” Walker's gaze remained serious, waiting as Barton's thoughts shot off in different directions. Did he discuss his failure or, even worse, comment on this matchmaker deal?
He stood stiff before Walker's regal desk in his equally imposing home office. Barton, and the whole Family of the prolific and skilled craftsman-decorators of Clover Fine Furniture, had all put their best efforts into making this room into the most impressive office in the city of Druida. That had been ten years ago when Walker had tested and risen from middle-class to the nobility. And taken the whole Family with him.
Silkeen wallpaper of a pale cream with a subtle pattern of four-leaf clovers was an elegant background for the mahogany furniture. The side walls held a few pics of Walker and their large — extraordinarily large for the colonists of Celta — Family. FirstFamily Lords and Ladies, the highest of the high, had been positively affected by this room, and Walker himself.
Walker continued, "The Family elders are concerned enough about you — as a highly placed member with a critical job and a public presence— that they've authorized a consultation with the matchmaker, GreatLord Saille T'Willow."
Barton sucked in a deep breath, suppressed his escalating irritation. "Such an appointment is too costly. Besides, I don't need a wife. I'm too busy for a wife. I want to focus on being the best Chief of Security for the Family. Concentrate on the Family. For instance, the missing Savi and Balansa." Savi was just seventeen, and his sister a young eleven.
Walker would someday be the most important man on the planet of Celta and that fact weighed on Barton. He couldn't afford to be less than perfect.
Walker waved a casual hand. "We'll get to Savi and Balansa."
"They are the priority here," Barton said, and continued as Walker inhaled to speak. "They went missing a full week ago!"
Walker's eyes narrowed, then he asked, "Barton, what day is it?"
His sneaky brother must be approaching the topic he wanted from another angle. Barton replied, "The twenty-fourth of Ivy."
Walker curled his fingers and waved them in a "more" gesture.
"A week after full moons. That's when Savi left, just before the ritual." Which Barton had attended along with many of the Family. "Balansa departed a few septhours later." Barton pressed his lips together. After Dark. A young girl had left the safety of their home, Clover Compound, to move through the city. No guards had reported her disappearance until he'd specifically asked. Another failure in his security procedures. Since then all egress and ingress was noted at the three entrances to the compound.
The strain of realizing a full week had passed seemed to set his muscles to concrete, his tendons like steel strands, too damned solid.
"Barton," Walker said too quietly, "it's Midweekend, and you are working."
"You are, too," Barton shot back.
Walker's brows rose. "Because I took the first two days of this week off."
Barton blinked, that seemed like months ago, all the days ran together.
"When was the last time you took a full day off, Barton?"
"Before this particular situation," he said, meeting Walker's gaze.
Dipping his head, Walker said, "I'm sure. Give me the date, Barton."
He couldn't.
After a full minute of silence, Walker said, "I believe I've proven my point. You work too much."
"I just said I wanted to concentrate on my career within the Family."
Walker picked up a writestick and fiddled with it. "You are the priority here, Barton. Your life is out of balance. Everyone knows that. I've been giving this some thought. And I have consulted the elders." Walker smiled benignly, but Barton didn't buy that fake kindness. "And Mom pestered me until I gave in."
"Yip!" The slight bark came from the corner where Walker's Familiar Companion lay curled up on a thick, round pale green animal bed that complemented his red fox fur. Barton smells sad and tense, stated Argut, the FamFox. He added a yip of commiseration.
Walker scanned his Fam and Barton. "Smells sad, does he?"
Yes! a thump of the fox tail.
"He feels sad—" Walker slid his eyes toward Barton, probably studying their sibling bond. "Perhaps I should say disturbed, too." Then he faced Barton, tapping the writestick. Walker's scholarly face relaxed, but his gray-green eyes remained sharp. He wore his brown hair long, like many of the highest nobles did, tied back with a dark green leather string. Walker had even convinced Barton to wear his black hair long.
"You need a spouse, a lover, a partner," Walker said.
"Yeah, you sound just like Mom. I'm not getting married. I'm not ready yet. The Family is more important." He must continue to set the security procedures and standards in this first generation of nobility so they'd be right for centuries to come.
Walker stared at him. "You work too hard. You feel too responsible for all the Clovers — and we are many."
"I am the Chief of Security."
"And you have done an excellent job. So far." Walker's lips firmed and a line twisted between his brows. "You need balance in your life, Barton, and a lover and wife will bring you that. Keep you from breaking. You're the only one of our age group who hasn't found a partner."
"That's not true—" he began, thought about it, and realized it was. He scowled.
"Barton," Walker said patiently. "When was the last time you got laid?"
Barton really didn't want to cal
culate the number of those days, either.
"You haven't brought a woman to your house for two months."
Flinching, Barton said, "That can't be right."
"Mom knows."
Barton grit his teeth.
Walker laughed, a little too long for Barton's comfort. Barton didn't want to hear any more. He pivoted.
"You can go," Walker continued, "but the elders are waiting to talk to you in the courtyard."
Barton stayed, said, "Ambush."
"They're good at that, as I know."
A cackle came from the fox. Barton glared at him. Argut set his tail above his nose. Elders ready to pounce on Barton like a fox on a mouse.
"Thanks, Argut," Barton said.
'Welcome, the fox returned.
"I came to speak to you about Savi and Balansa," Barton said.
Walker placed the writestick down and scrutinized him. "You believe you've failed because Savi and Balansa left?"
"Yes."
"Barton, Savi is seventeen and just reached his adulthood—"
"He's still very green—"
Walker's brows raised. Not many people interrupted him anymore, and when he answered, he rolled right over Barton. "You’re reacting to past errors of the Family and being overprotective. That Savi left the compound and probably the Family as soon as he could after he became an adult, isn't a surprise. He believes we didn't take care of his parents well enough when the plague came through." Walker's expression darkened. As a whole, and for living all together, each house abutting the next as they marched around three long blocks, the Family had been lucky when the horrible sickness had hit. But they'd lost people, mostly the elderly, and worse, the newest babies. Barton's stomach churned, pitching acid. That had been bad, fighting that sickness with their four Healers. At least he hadn't been responsible for that, a disease.
Responsible for everything else, though. He cleared his throat. "But Savi's eleven-year-old sister slipped out of the compound and hasn't been seen."
"No doubt she wants to be with her brother. She's a smart girl with good Flair, psychic power." Walker met Barton's eyes steadily. "Savi himself has good Flair and is intelligent. The children—" Walker cleared his throat. "That is to say, the adult Savi and his minor sister have a strong sibling bond. She would have been able to find him with that bond. And if she felt in trouble, she'd have contacted us."
Barton wanted to stalk the room. A fighter like he didn't show such lack of control. Instead he moved slightly to the balls of his feet, loose, ready for any attack. And didn't fool Walker.
"I want them back," Barton ground out. "They're Family."
"Savi is free to leave us." Walker looked too still. "And I believe that we should let Balansa be with her beloved brother instead of being technically legal and hauling her back to this Family."
"I want them back." Barton knew he sounded obsessive. Maybe he was. They'd failed the children before, he wanted to fix that. Ensure their safety. "The second-cuz closest in relationship to them and who has a weak bond with them, says they may have left Druida City. Left the city! Two child— youngsters — outside the best place for them."
"Clover Compound and Druida City, under your eye," Walker said dryly. He leaned back and tapped his fingers together giving Barton a smile he didn't trust. "And you think that you've changed the subject. You haven't. Your fixation on this matter reveals how lopsided your life has become." His mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed. He pointed his forefinger at Barton. "All right, since you insist of speaking of Savi and Balansa, we will discuss that, but I will continue to make my points with regard to your finding a bride and getting married. Doing your duty — your essential duty to marry and have children and love and live well — that duty to your Family." This time his gesture was that of a fencer ready to begin a match.
Barton's gut clenched. Unlike with swords, Walker won word duels with Barton all the time.
"Savi and Balansa have their inheritance from their parents." Walker named a significant figure.
"What!" Barton was glad the kid had money, gilt, but taking that showed how Savi felt the Family had failed him. "A good amount of gilt or not, he — they — shouldn't be on their own outside the Druida city walls. They are city child—.” He stopped.
"When his parents died, two and a half years ago, Savi said nothing to any adult, but lived in their house at the far end of the compound and cared for his sister. And our branch of the Family, the one most pledged to care for him, didn't pay attention. Nor did he feel like he could inform us. That was the time of our deficiency, not now." Walker's expression became grim. "I think, at that point in his life, he had too much responsibility burdening his young shoulders." Walker's voice softened. "Rather like you. We don't want to lose you, too."
"You won't," Barton said.
"I know, because we will stop this hermit, too-immersed-in-work life of yours right now, before you break. A little too late, as we all agreed. We have let Savi and Balansa go, but we won't fail again. The rest of us are very glad that Savi has his sister with him. She's smart enough to understand, and tell him, that they're better off together than apart. Even when surrounded by Family. And she is old enough to share his cares."
"She's still a child! He's nearly one—"
But Walker didn't stop speaking. "Who shares your life, Barton?"
Barton huffed, "The whole Family!"
Walker nodded. "You feel responsible for us."
"I am responsible for you and I must continue to search for Savi and Balansa, not mess around with matchmakers." Barton struggled to win the argument.
"No, you won't. Savi is an adult, Balansa is with him. They don't want the Family." Walker's eyes dampened and he looked away from Barton, then Walker tapped his heart. "I am the Head of the Household. My great Flair, psi power, is for interpersonal relationships. I have a bond with all my Family." He paused. "Including Savi and Balansa. I would know if they felt threatened or endangered, if they were sick or worse."
Another yip announced Argut's contribution before he spoke to their minds. I looked for the kits, and told some of my friends their smells and we all looked but we didn't find.
Barton nodded. "Thank you, Argut."
'Welcome. But we didn't find no puke or blood or smell hurt or anything, either. I told Walker!
That didn't reassure Barton.
Apparently it did Walker. "I sense they are fine Barton, give up the search for them."
"No."
Now Walker leaned back in his chair with a considering look. "You know this is an obsession, don't you? A too-responsible, guilt-ridden fixation. You should not feel responsible for the whole Family. Should not expect yourself to be perfect."
"I . . . just need to find them, make sure they're all right."
"You want to bring them back to the Family."
Barton didn't answer.
"All right, a deal, I'll give you leave to look as long and as far for our lost ones as you like if you'll agree to the matchmaking appointment."
Barton stared at his brother. He wouldn't be budging. And Walker had said the parents and elders would pounce on Barton if he left. Nag even more. He forced out, "All right."
Walker snapped his fingers and a holographic calendar sphere appeared. "Your appointment with T'Willow is set for three days from now. It will be Saille's first appointment of the week. An in-depth evaluation that will last as long as necessary, perhaps all day."
"What did we have to pay for that?" Barton grumbled. "Extortionate, I'm thinking."
"No, he owes us a couple of favors."
Barton didn't know that.
"Saille is a professional, he won't take finding a good mate for you lightly."
"I understand." Barton glanced aside. "I don't have a HeartMate, a fated mate, like you, Walker." He didn't have the Flair, psi power, that Walker did, either. Mostly those with great Flair had HeartMates.
Walker said, "Cuz Trif and I have HeartMates, everyone else in the Family has
spouses and partners and has married for love. You can't think of this Family and know that couples don't love each other. Saille will find someone for you."
"I don't—"
Walker snapped his fingers and the calendar sphere pinged. "Workbell, the day of Mor, three days from now. Be there."
Chapter 2
New TwinMoons, A Week And A Day Later
Enata Licorice chanted the spell Words to open the oldest vault in the basement of the PublicLibrary -- Secure Vault Prime. In a conference room above, her parents, the other FirstLevel Librarians, awaited the first generation copies of the satellite videos the colonist starship, Nuada's Sword, took as it landed on Celta. Those recordings had been made four centuries ago.
The large, thick, round steel door opened silently, and she hurried into the area that only accommodated two comfortably. Deep shelves surrounded her, and the general quiet of the library hushed into a silence where she could only hear the sound of her breathing and the rustle of her silkeen clothes as she moved. She climbed a rolling ladder to a cabinet, opened it with a four-couplet rhyming spell and two physical keys and pulled out the first copy of the spheres, leaving the original and four secondary copies.
She'd just reached the door with the small crate of spheres when a smell vault wafted to her nose at the same time an odd quality in the atmosphere impinged on her Flair.
Frowning, she turned around to scan all the familiar shapes in the dim light. She knew every volume, every box, every leather portfolio and thick papyrus envelope, every recordsphere and viz and memory sphere.
Directly ahead of her, on the far wall, she saw a new book.
Shock ran through her. A new book! Thick, a good eighteen centimeters, bound in midnight blue with gold and silver flecks— no, sparkles. The spine sparkled in a random pattern, first a small gold starburst at the bottom, then a large silver one off to the left . . . mesmerizing enough to draw her to the shelf the book rested on. Above eye level for her, in the center of the shelf. Where she'd never have missed seeing it before.
Lost Heart: A Celta Novella (Celta HeartMate Series) Page 1