Heart Quest (16 page)

Ilex lifted a pastry. “And food.”

Laughing, she said, “Probably.”

“Drink?”

Now she frowned. “Difficult to say if alcohol or the more potent herbs would be used. Not if you wanted the greatest outcome. But then, once you tap into the black part of our souls, it's hard to deny other lusts of drink and drug.”

No doubt the cult figured that human sacrifice gave them great power, even if they indulged in herbs and alcohol. “And the trappings would be rather the same as our ceremonies, only…inverted? Incense? Altars?”

She nodded. “Oh, yes. The symbols on the altar would be different. Instead of a circle, the participants might try and make a more angular pattern—a square or rectangle.”

“Interesting,” Ilex said truthfully. He frowned. “What sort of incense—”

The door opened and D'Grove streamed into the room, tall and matronly, surrounded by great Flair. As former Captain of the FirstFamilies Council, she'd been one of the first people to be informed of the murders.

Though her hair and eyes were the same color as Sedwy's, their features were different. D'Grove nodded abruptly to Ilex. “Guardsman Winterberry, I think it is time you leave. I will not have my daughter bothered with this matter.” She was every inch a mother defending her young. His heart twinged. He couldn't imagine either of the women living in D'Winterberry Residence bestirring themselves on behalf of their children.

“What's wrong, Mother?” Sedwy's lovely brow wrinkled. “We were just talking….” Her eyes sharpened, her face set, and she suddenly resembled her mother very much. She turned to Ilex. “It wasn't just idle conversation or flirtation. You pulled the information you wanted from me quite easily. Very persuasive.” Her voice was brittle now.

He inclined his torso, kept his own face serious. “I am under orders from the highest authority”—he glanced at her mother—“not to speak of this matter. Thus my methods are not as pristine as I would like, especially when speaking with such a fascinating lady as yourself.”

“What did you question her about?” demanded D'Grove, fear shadowing her eyes.

Ilex stood, bowed. “GreatLady, your daughter is an expert on the occult. Isn't that why you called her back? When did she arrive from your estate?”

D'Grove paled to her lips. “She came to consult with me. She arrived after…much later than certain events.”

“What is going on?” Sedwy rose.

“I am still under orders for silence,” Ilex said.

“Mother?” asked Sedwy.

D'Grove made a cutting motion with her hand. “We'll talk about this later.”

“If it involves my studies, we certainly will,” Sedwy said coolly. “I think I'll go on that outing Zinga asked me to.” Sedwy nodded to Ilex. “Merry meet.”

“And merry part. It was a real pleasure sharing your company, under any circumstances.”

“And merry meet again.” She left.

After a hard look, D'Grove offered her hand to Ilex. As he bowed over it, he banished irritation, thought of something more pleasing, and allowed himself a smile. “My Fam is a fox. Currently, the only den is located on T'Blackthorn's land. I believe more foxes might like to establish one here. Would that be agreeable to you?”

She looked startled, blinked, then the first genuine smile crossed her face. She dipped a tiny curtsy. “My household would be honored.”

There was a bark and Vertic sat by the door, mouth open in a half laugh, bushy tail waving languidly.

D'Grove stiffened, then tilted her head. “How did he do that?”

Ilex smiled his most charming smile. “He's my Fam, and I don't know. But I believe that everyone is entitled to a few secrets, right?” he asked rhetorically, and stood as Vertic leapt into his arms. Then he let his smile sharpen. “As long as they harm none.” He 'ported to the guardhouse.

A note from Tinne Holly lay on his desk. That young Lord had had several casual conversations with people his own age. As far as he could determine, Sedwy Grove had returned to Druida a couple of days before the first murder had occurred.

 

G
reyku jumped up and down on Trif's back as she tried to
get in one more minute of snuggling in the warm bed before she had to prepare for work.

The kitten screeched and Trif shuddered, reached for a pillow. It wasn't there.

Come, come, come!
shouted Greyku mentally.
There is a message for Us! From Citrula about tinting ME! Today! Come.
The kitten nipped at Trif's bare shoulder.

“Why did I ever want a Fam?” Trif mumbled.

You wouldn't know what to do without Me.
Greyku walked down Trif's spine, and she had to admit it felt good.

She grunted. “Getting up. Waterfall. Breakfast. Work.”

Listen to the scry!
More jumping up and down. Lucky it wasn't on her kidneys.

“All ri', all right,” Trif replied in a husky morning voice. She rolled over, tossed back the covers, and slid from the bedsponge, straightening her nightgown, pushing one of the straps back up her shoulder.

Scrybowl first!

Trif stumbled into the mainspace. Her dreams had been a noisy confusion of the Maypole, with Ilex dancing with every woman, then disappearing into the shadows with them, while Trif played her fingers bloody. She shuddered. She much preferred erotic dreams of her HeartMate.

Finally, she reached her scrybowl and found the water rippling in a rainbow pattern. She snorted. Artists. She tapped the rim of the bowl to access the cache.

“This is Citrula. I will be in Druida tomorrow, Qwert.”

Today,
squealed Greyku, who'd jumped onto the small rectangular scry table and was circling the scrybowl.

“I've arranged a room to tint the kitten at D'Ash's office. I have a preliminary concept that I think will be appropriate. Pastels. See you and the kitten Mid-Afternoon Bell. The cost will be eighty gilt.” Citrula cut the spell with no farewell.

“Eighty gilt!”

Sire Zanth will pay. And Samba, Ship's Cat, and Drina, T'Blackthorn Fam, and Mitchella.

Completely awake, Trif stared down at her kitten. “You had the nerve to charge
my cuz
to see you tinted!”

Greyku lifted her nose, set her muzzle.
Mitchella is a decorator. I am being decorated. She will learn much.

Trif's laugh became a cough. She shook her head. “Cats.”

Other Cats fascinated with My tinting. I may start a fashion.

“Like being tinted instead of having jeweled collars.”

Greyku's eyes went wide with shock and horror.
I MUST have a jeweled collar TOO.

At least Trif knew the “rules” with regard to this Fam custom. “When you're full grown, we'll talk about it.”

Hopping aggitatedly, Greyku said,
Zanth has emerald collar, Samba has old Earthen stuff. Drina has blue diamonds. Even Princess, who is not a Fam but only a Cat, has much jewelry. I need too!

Trif's alarm rang loudly. “When you're an adult cat,” she said, and headed for the waterfall room.

 

I
t was later in the morning, when Trif was sipping an ex
cellent cup of caff during her morning break, that she realized she hadn't tested Ilex's door with her charmkey. The man kept haunting her thoughts since yesterday morning. Could he possibly be her HeartMate?

How did she feel about that?

Her toes curled and a warmth spread from low in her body. He was strong, emotionally, physically, morally. In Flair too, she supposed, but that was secondary to her own values—those instilled in her by her family.

She frowned, wondering how large the Winterberry Family was, how many siblings or cuzes Ilex might have. It was a given that it wouldn't be as many as she did—so far the Clover family was the only one on Celta that had a birthrate like that of ancient Earth. And the Clover genes seemed to dominate in two thirds of the marriages they made—the new families generally had more children. But it was a consideration when choosing a mate, how large their family was. Until lately, the Clovers had intermarried only within their class, or lower, and beloved children had been numerous. But they all watched what happened every generation, and sooner or later they would probably marry into the lower Nobility. What would be the trade-off in Flair or family size?

Ilex. His name whispered in her mind, bringing images of him—authoritative in his guardsman's uniform, silver hair gleaming, expression serious. Or even better—dressed casually, sophisticatedly, dancing with that innate grace of his, eyelids heavy. She gave a little shiver.

Could she compare the friend she knew with the erotic man, her HeartMate, who moved over her and in her when she dreamed? She closed her eyes and tried to
see
the man, but feelings swamped her. Desire. Yearning. Fulfillment.

Her man's shoulders were broad. As broad as Ilex's? Maybe.

She couldn't visualize her HeartMate's face or his hands or even his hair. How his lips feathered over her body, how his hands stroked, soft and tender or fast and arousing, but not the shape of them or his fingers. She made a frustrated noise and opened her eyes to see her father, Pink, staring at her over the rim of his own cup.

He cleared his voice. “You haven't been going questing lately, have you?”

Heat burned on her cheeks. “No, I've been concentrating on learning to teleport.” She tossed her head and grinned. “I'll be Testing for the skill tomorrow.”

He frowned. “You're taking off early today to tint that Fam of yours.” He shook his head. “Crazy business.”

Trif hunched a shoulder. “I know, but I couldn't deny her.”

Pink chuckled. “You're learning what it's like to be a caretaker.”

“As if I haven't watched the little cuzes often enough.”

Shaking his head, he said, “Not the same.”

“Probably not.” She leaned forward. “You know, she's
charging
others to watch her be tinted!”

His eyes widened and he laughed. “Good business. Clever kitten you have there.”

“Yes. She's lounging at home today to save her strength for the beauty treatment.”

“She's always welcome here, though it's a bit boring for young ones.”

Trif stood, washed her cup out, and upended it on the drying rack. “I'm doing fine.”

“So you are. But we thought you might want to Test with T'Ash's stones again and find out the strength and what sort of Flair you have—besides those useless visions—now that you've mastered teleporting and all.”

“Every time I've messed with those stones, my Flair has gone wild and given no indication at any Flaired profession. I think I'd rather stay here.”

“Hard to believe. You never really liked working here.”

He was right, but now she liked the sheer familiarity. “It's different now.” She didn't want to explain that lately she'd been feeling as if her personal atmosphere had altered, bringing change into her life with her search, and the Fam, and the talk with T'Willow—and Ilex. She'd even experienced an atavistic feeling of being
watched
a time or two. The shelter of the family business was comforting.

“Pink!” one of her aunts called from the outer office.

Her father grunted and sauntered out. “We'll talk later.”

Not if she played least-in-sight. She didn't think she could sit under T'Ash's frowning study as her uneven Flair once more wreaked havoc on his highly calibrated Testing Stones.

T
hat afternoon, Ilex interviewed T'Heather, the best
Healer of Celta. Like D'Grove and T'Holly, T'Heather was a FirstFamily GreatLord, part of the Council that held the ultimate authority over the Druida Guardsmen. Everyone on that Council—all fifty members—would have received copies of Ilex's reports.

The Healer was appalled at Ilex's questions regarding lifting a living heart from a person's body. After sitting stunned for a moment, T'Heather had agreed that such a thing could be done. For what reason, he didn't know and didn't want to conjecture. He did hypothesize that it would take at least three people at FirstLevel Healer status to accomplish such a feat—but that was if they wanted to keep the victim alive and the heart in good shape. Otherwise, he believed it could be done by at least two people of lower Noble status, like Winterberry, to handle the matter and leave the outer chest tissue unmarked, but it would cost them in energy and Flair for several days.

He postulated that for the results Winterberry gave him, and for the murderers to have a regular amount of energy—to look normal to others—there would need to be at least four or more people.

That was something Ilex had not wanted to hear. So many people corrupted.

T'Heather was furious that none of the victims had been seen by a Healer after their deaths and before their Families had transported them to Death Groves.

Nor had T'Heather been pleased that the priests and priestesses of the Death Groves failed to scan the bodies and send him reports of anything unusual, as was procedure. He'd obviously paid no attention to any reports, meetings, or rumors within the FirstFamilies Council on the case. He insisted on seeing the next victim, if there was a next victim, himself, and was stern and scrying the Captain of the Councils when Ilex left.

Ilex was summarizing the interview when a brief tapping came at his guardhouse office door.

“Come.”

A smiling and flushed Trif threw open the door and entered, accompanied by a prancing Greyku.

“I've been teleporting all day and just went to the GuildHall and took my Test and passed. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

A muttered Word masked his work from her, not that she glanced down at his desk. Greyku, though, appeared in the middle of his desk.
I passed my teleporting Test too!

“Congratulations. A three-thanks, eh?”

Trif nodded decidedly. “Yes, you deserve more than just a magical three-thanks-blessing.” She licked her lips. “Especially since we are here to ask another favor.” She looked pointedly at her kitten, who sat with pride and dignity, tail curled around paws and muzzle lifted.

I am being tinted shortly and We would like you to attend
. She turned her head farther over her back than a human could manage to look at Trif.
No charge
.

Ilex stared. They hadn't been joking about tinting Greyku. He wondered if they were going for a different color, a pattern, or something incredible he couldn't even imagine. Probably the last.

Lifting her hands in a helpless gesture, Trif said, “The process is expensive. Others must pay Greyku to attend, but I'm a little nervous. It's taking place at D'Ash's and I'd really like you to go with me.”

“Who will be there?” asked Ilex.

Trif shifted. “T'Ash and D'Ash, several FamCats, and my cuz Mitchella.”

“I thought you considered the Ashes Family, and Mitchella certainly is.”

“
Please,
Ilex. They think this is another strange thing for me to be doing, like my quest. I'd like someone who—who respects me.” Her face stiffened. “You
do
respect me, don't you?”

“Yes.” It came from his heart and his lips before he thought.

“It's not as if those FirstFamilies aren't all a little weird themselves.”

“You're calling D'Ash and Mitchella odd?”

“They're HeartMates to important, Flaired FirstFamilies Lords. Of course they must be odd. And they criticize
me
.” She paced back and forth.

“Trif, you're lapsing into emphasized speech again,” Ilex said.

She flushed. “I know. Can't you come? I know it's before your shift ends, but don't you have any time off? I took the afternoon off for my Testing and the tinting.” Her eyebrows knit as she tried to study the papyrus on his desk. “It looks as if you only have paperwork.”

“Thank you,” Ilex said drily.

“Sorry.” She drew herself up.

At that moment, Chief Sawyr entered Ilex's office. “I heard you had a visitor, Winterberry.” He caught sight of Greyku, who'd turned to stare at him, and examined her with disbelief. He'd be even more astonished if she'd been tinted. “A Fam? An animal in my guardhouse!”

“Zanth has visited guardhouses before, I know,” Trif said, picking up Greyku.

Sawyr grunted. “Not mine. And a tomcat cleaning out celtaroon nests and bringing the skins for boots is different.”

“Huh,” Trif said. She lifted her nose. “I'm sorry I bothered you important men. I'll leave.” She stalked from the room, and Ilex heard her steps until she reached the teleportation pad, then a slight “pop” as she disappeared.

Sawyr shut the door. “Your HeartMate.”

Ilex closed his eyes. “Yes.”

“Quite evident when you're together. Even to a medium-Flaired person like me.”

“Especially to a trained observer like you.” Ilex opened his eyes, but his face felt stiff.

Rubbing his chin, Sawyr said, “Didn't you tell me once you weren't going to claim her?”

“A couple of years ago, yes.”

“Because of a foreseeing you had.”

“Yes.”

“The one where you're dead.”

“That's right.”

With a grimace, Sawyr said, “I don't like the idea of one of my best guardsmen dying.”

“I'm not too pleased with the idea either.” He hesitated a moment. “I had the vision again recently.” He hesitated, recalling monstrous red eyes, then said in a low tone, “This case is dangerous.”

Sawyr glanced at him sharply. “You think the time is coming soon.”

Ilex shrugged.

“She's very young, your lady.” Sawyr opened the door and marched out. “Give me what you have on your interview with T'Heather, then take the rest of the day off. I'll scry the First Families Council, who are in charge of this matter and us. They still think they can keep this quiet. They're wanting daily reports—oral.”

Dismissing the illusion spell on his work, Ilex gathered his spheres and papyri, went to Sawyr's office, and placed them on his desk. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Sawyr gathered the information and grunted. “Keep all your blessings and luck for yourself, Black Ilex. Go.”

“After speaking with T'Heather, I think you'll be contacted by more of the FirstFamiles Lords and Ladies.”

“I'll send them right to you. In fact, I believe you're going to T'Ash's? You can brief him. Maybe they'll leave me alone.” Sawyr showed his teeth.

“I'll do my best to answer any questions.”

“Go.”

Ilex left, and a few minutes later he alit in a small room of T'Ash Residence designated for teleportation. He stepped off the pad, flicked the safety light back on, was greeted by the butler, and led to one of D'Ash's office rooms where the tinting was taking place.

Greyku stood on a raised, padded table, the center of attention. T'Ash leaned against a wall, arms crossed, and raised a brow when Ilex walked in. On a bench the same height as Greyku's table, other Fams sat fascinated, watching the artist at work. Ilex felt a pained smile cross his face when he noticed his fox, Vertic.

Vertic, did you PAY to watch this?

His Fam kept his gaze on Greyku and the artist, flicked the tip of his tail.
Young dog fox wanted to be a Fam, like me. Brought to D'Ash. She gave me gilt to pay for this. Interesting. Silly, but interesting.

I hope you don't want tinted.

I change color with the seasons. I am fine.

“Good,” Ilex said aloud.

The artist looked up, scowling. “Sshhh! I'm concentrating.” She was an angular young woman with an intense expression. She and Greyku seemed the only ones serious about the process.

Trif came up to Ilex and slipped her hand in his, squeezed. Every nerve in Ilex's body went on alert and his focus shifted to her—the scent of her, fresh young woman, the feel of her aura innately expanding to embrace him, warm and sparkling. He swallowed, but left his hand in hers, the skin of his palm sensitized to her touch so he could draw her essence into himself.

Mitchella D'Blackthorn, Danith D'Ash, and several other FirstFamilies Ladies sat on a grouping of stools, murmuring in admiration.

“The artist is Citrula Collinson,” Trif whispered. “Once known as Painted Rock.”

“Quiet!” Citrula demanded, then stepped back to survey Greyku.

About a fifth of the kitten's hair was irregularly tinted a pale yellow, and the tips of the fur were differently tinted in other, deeper colors, pink, blue, lavender, green. Citrula limbered her arms, then placed her hands gently around Greyku's head, drew in a deep breath, and slowly moved her hands down the kitten's body. Again, some fur turned pale pink, with darker ends.

Breaths sighed out as Ilex and the others recognized that Greyku would be multicolored pastel with highlights of darker colors.

Trif leaned close to him. “She's not going to like this, I don't think. It's not the bold statement she wanted.”

Now Ilex squeezed Trif 's hand. It wasn't easy living with an unhappy Fam, especially a vain cat. The thought vanished as Trif leaned against him. He wanted her, badly.

And it was definitely time for him to start drawing away from her. They'd gotten too close.

When he looked up, he found T'Ash's narrowed gaze on him. Ilex wondered what the man saw. As much as Sawyr probably. Ilex squared his shoulders and returned T'Ash's scrutiny with a cool stare of his own. T'Ash's lips twitched.

Yes, the FirstFamilies were odd. Ilex had had the idea that T'Ash considered Trif a younger sister, yet he seemed undaunted that Ilex was her HeartMate.

T'Ash sent mentally,
We will talk later.

Indeed. I have news from Chief Sawyr.

Straightening, T'Ash pushed from the wall.

“Will you people be still!” demanded Citrula as she laid down a color of pale blue.

Fam and human gazes went to T'Ash. He crossed his arms, resumed his stance against the wall, and looked to settle into brooding.

Ilex waited through the process, simply enjoying being with Trif, as the last touches of Flair tinting were done—giving Greyku a four-leaf clover face, with a leaf between her eyes, around each eye, and down to include her nose to the top of her mouth. Finally, Citrula wiped an arm across her beaded brow, then held a mirror angled for Greyku.

No!
Greyku screeched.
I don't like!
She hopped up and down on all fours, tail lashing.

Citrula's mouth tightened. “Ungrateful kitten. This is you, young and pretty.”

I wanted RED. I wanted GOLD. Black and dark blue and emerald green. I wanted a tinted collar that looked like jewels,
Greyku projected loud enough for everyone, especially the artist, to hear.

T'Ash suppressed a snort. Vertic barked a laugh, and the other cats made noises of everything from disapproval at Greyku's tizzy to agreement.

“You are still a very young cat. Bold colors don't suit your personality at this time,” Citrula said.

Greyku growled.
Only good thing is the four-leaf clover.

Citrula crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “If you feel that way, I
may
be able to do something…more. But not now. Perhaps in a couple of eightdays. I'll think on it.” She stalked out.

“I take it you paid her in advance,” Ilex said to Trif.

“Of course.”

Triffff!
Greyku wailed. Since her hair was ruffled and her claws unsheathed, punching holes in the permamoss sponge on the table, Ilex kept Trif's hand in his when she tried to pull away.

Bang!
The door hit the wall and Nuin toddled in, grinning. “Noise, noise, noise!” he cried.

T'Ash laughed at his son. “Sure is.”

“Pretty kitty!” Nuin was suddenly on the table, staring at Greyku, thumb in his mouth.
Pretty, pretty, pretty kitty!
His mental tone was as loud as Greyku's had been. Greyku glared back at him.