Heart Search (9 page)

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Authors: Robin D Owens

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: Heart Search
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With a sniff, the cat came over to Laev, opened his mouth, and spit out a miniature golden acorn. Laev’s mouth dried and his heart pounded. The acorn had been attached to the base of his HeartGift sculpture of the Lady and Lord dancing.
No one other than himself would have noticed it. Not Nivea, to whom his HeartGift was a minor thing, meaning little after she’d wed him and accomplished her goals. No one would have considered the acorn something to put on the exchange table. “Where did you get this?”
Brazos sneezed.
Not easy to find. I am a Very Intelligent Cat.
Laev stroked his hand down Brazos’s back, uncaring of the dust that clung to his fingers. “Yes, you are.”
It was in a corner.
Easily overlooked. “Was anything else there?”
Dead bug, crumbled when I touched. Piece of ribbon, slip of papyrus—
“Oh.” Well, he hadn’t truly expected to find his HeartGift there. Would have been appalled if he had.
Was
appalled that Nivea might have taken it to the Salvage Ball from anger or spite or malice . . . or all three.
But he’d made the HeartGift during his Passage, and he’d followed his instincts, even during the fever sweats and the working-in-a-dream. He’d shielded his sculpture so that only he or his HeartMate could see it well, sense what it was. If Nivea had left it on the Salvage table, it would have been overlooked.
He’d been informed when he’d teleported into the party with the vase that if no one took his Salvage away, he must keep it. Those were the rules.
Nivea only followed others’ rules when she wanted.
Had she really taken his HeartGift to the party? Had she left it there or had someone sensed something about it and taken it? Now that he seemed to be coming closer and closer to actually finding it, he yearned to know.
What had happened to his HeartGift?
 
 
C
amellia was aware when T’Hawthorn left. She couldn’t have missed
it since Mica, who she cradled in her arms, yelled telepathically,
My friend Brazos is going home now. His FamMan is very pleased with him. Brazos found a treasure.
Camellia shared a glance with Tiana; they were both sure there was nothing in the room that could be called a treasure to T’Hawthorn.
Glyssa snorted, stroked the cat’s head with a couple of fingers. “Not much here of interest.”
I liked the stuffed fish.
“No,” Camellia said. “We are not having a stuffed fish on the walls. It’s revolting.” She thought it was a real fish, but the whole thing was a nasty shade of pink. The eyes had been creepy, like they were real and dead and bespelled, not glass. She avoided looking in that direction.
“There wasn’t any interesting china here for Camellia,” Tiana said.
“Or interesting books, ledgers, memoryspheres, et cetera, for Glyssa,” Camellia said.
“Or pretty jewelry for Tiana.” Glyssa stared again at the nearest table full of sad trinkets.
“We didn’t do well tonight, and the crowd seems, ah, scruffier.” Tiana turned a slow circle.
“It’s changed,” Camellia said.
“It’s probably been changing all this time and we didn’t notice,” Tiana said.
“It has changed since Feam Kelp has taken charge.” Glyssa squinted as if prodding her memory. “How long has that been?”
“Not sure,” Camellia said. “But there wasn’t anything worth a second glance on the tables tonight. No wonder that vase T’Hawthorn brought was snatched up.”
“Was it incredible?” asked Glyssa.
“I didn’t see the pattern close up, but it didn’t impress me. It appeared to be expensive, though.”
“Of course it would be,” Glyssa said. “Let’s go. There’s nothing here for us anymore.” There was a hint of mourning in her voice.
“It used to be fun.” Tiana sighed.
They strolled toward the teleportation pad in the corner.
Wait!
Mica rolled from Camellia’s grasp and landed on her paws.
Since no one is getting a gift, may I?
Her tail flicked back and forth in excitement.
“You found something you liked?” Glyssa said with indulgent amusement.
Mica lifted her nose.
Gifts for all My new friends.
Camellia looked at Tiana and Glyssa. They all shrugged together.
Better for hands to take instead of paws.
Mica trotted off and the women followed. She stopped.
No Fams here tonight, except Brazos.
“Also true,” Tiana murmured.
Mica leapt onto a table and tapped a grimy object that looked no more than a smoothly rounded rock.
Smells right for FamWoman. For FamWoman from Me,
she said with pride. Slowly, Camellia reached out and took the hand-sized stone. Dirt slid under her fingers. She kept her smile curved. “Thank you.” She held it, wasn’t about to drop it into the cream-colored lined pocket of her expensive gown.
“What is it?” asked Glyssa.
Is a sculpture of a Cat. Looks a little like Brazos.
Mica sniffed.
Tiana peered at it.
I’m sure it will be lovely when we clean it up.
“Yessss,” vocalized Mica.
Tiana held out her hand and Camellia gave her the stone. With two crisp Words from Tiana, sparkles surrounded the item, a wave of her hand and she held a black rock. There were simple, fluid indentations that showed a curled cat with closed eyes and smug expression.
“A little crude,” Glyssa said.
Mica sniffed.
Kit made it.
“A cat? I don’t think so.” Glyssa frowned.
Tiana snorted. “A young sculptor carved it, a boy or a girl. Obviously, but I think it shows talent.”
Smells and feelings and Flair from it mostly gone.
Tiana frowned, tilted her head as if she probed the item with her Flair. “You’re right. I don’t feel much of anything. I wonder why.”
Mica inhaled lustily.
Being in pig stopped smell and other stuff.
“A pig! Like the animal?” Glyssa asked.
“Yessss,” Mica said.
They all stared at her. Camellia pondered how Mica knew what the inside of a pig smelled like and decided not to ask.
“How do you know how the inside of a pig smells like?” Glyssa asked.
Love porcine. Plenty of pigs and pig guts on noble estates.
As if to punctuate, Mica burped. None of the women had eaten the buffet food, but that obviously hadn’t stopped the cat.
“Ugh,” Tiana said, took Camellia’s hand, and dumped the small sculpture into it.
Camellia rubbed a spot that looked like the remnants of an upright ear, studied it, hefted its weight. Mica was wrong, a slight tingle emanated from the raw sculpture. She smiled, let her fingers close over the piece, cradle it. “It’s charming.”
I did good.
Mica purred and leapt gracefully from the counter to trot to another table. When the women joined her, she was clawing at the top of a ragged grayish piece of papyrus rolled as a scroll and tilted against the wall.
“I’ll get that,” Glyssa said.
Mica batted her hand away.
Is for Tiana. Smells good for
her
.
Mica wrinkled her nose.
Incense, maybe.
“Me?” Tiana asked.
“Yesss,” Mica said.
Brows raised, Tiana took the scroll and touched the knot of the grimy string. It fell into her hand and she put it in her pocket. As she unrolled the piece of papyrus, Camellia drew one of the bobbing spell-lights over so they could see better.
“It’s an architectural drawing,” Tiana said blankly. She tilted her head. “Interesting.”
“Hmm,” Glyssa said. “The lines are good, the drawing shows promise, but this one isn’t the work of a master. Maybe a journeyman.”
Unroll all!
Mica demanded.
Propping the scroll on the table, Tiana did.
Mica tapped a legend in fancy writing that was shakier than the lines.
“The Turquoise House!” Glyssa said. “A diagram of the layout of the Turquoise House, the House that’s recently become sentient!” She reached avidly for the scroll. Tiana lifted it and the papyrus rerolled; Tiana held it to her chest. “This is mine.”
“You don’t understand,” Glyssa said. “I don’t think the PublicLibrary has any plans of the Turquoise House and it has been very protective of its privacy.”
“Very exclusive,” Camellia agreed.
“Secretive,” Tiana said, lifting her chin. “And I like protecting a house’s secrets. This is mine and I’m keeping it.”
“At least let me make a copy for the Library.”
“No.”
“It won’t even go into the public areas. We’ll archive it.”
“No. Mine.”
Look, look!
Mica hopped up and down, pointing her red-tipped claws at the scroll.
They looked. The papyrus had changed, appearing to be heavier and with the tiniest hint of gold along its edges.
Tiana unrolled it and the drawing was now in multicolored inks. “Oooh. This is pretty, worth framing and hanging on my bedroom wall.”
“Ti-an-a!” Glyssa shifted from foot to foot, her shoulders hunched. “Please let me—”
“No.” Tiana rolled the papyrus tight and tapped the middle, fastening it together with a spellword. Then she dropped it into her sleeve pocket.
Now for Glyssa!
Mica said and trotted along the table.
“How is she
doing
this?” Glyssa asked. “Finding stuff we didn’t?”
“I saw the sculpture,” Tiana said, “but it looked like a stone and I didn’t pick it up.”
“I didn’t see the scroll,” Glyssa grumbled. “I missed it.”
“Me, too,” Camellia said. If she’d seen it—if any of them had—they would have studied it or given it to Glyssa.
“It’s rather the same gray as the shadows against the walls,” Tiana agreed.
“Cat noses and smells,” Glyssa muttered. She walked quickly to where Mica sat, looking like a realistic art object herself. Camellia smiled,
her
FamCat.
Mica had her paw on a grungy velveteen pouch. The embroidery stating the brand of liquor it had once held was broken. The strings of the dirty tassels had unraveled.
“For me?” Glyssa said.
“Yesss,” Mica replied.
No one protested at the condition of the gift.
Smells like you. Adventure. Something from the southern continent.
Glyssa’s hand hesitated, her shoulders tensed, then she rolled them and lifted the edge with her fingertips and gingerly pulled open the string around the top of the pouch, glanced inside, and exclaimed. Plunging her hand in the bag, she grabbed what was in there and dropped the pouch. A slight crackle came as she opened the folded papyrus—to reveal nothing on the sheet, but that it was wrapped around a lovely tooled leather wallet of dark red, embossed with gold.
“My,” Glyssa said, her smile wide as she stroked the fine leather, traced a finger over an elegant curlicue. “So lovely.”
Mica preened before the small clump of people who had gathered. She groomed a few strands of orange fur on her shoulder, lifted her head in graceful pride.
Good gifts for My new friends.
Camellia petted her Fam, knowing her smile had gone soft and foolish. “That’s right.”
So now you can give Me the gift of the stuffed fish.
Tiana and Glyssa laughed.
Mica turned her head toward them and offered as innocent and virtuous a smile as a cat can manage.
And you can tell My FamWoman how wonderful the fish is. How nice it will look in My closet.
“Closet! You think you get a closet?” Camellia asked.
Brazos says He gets a whole room.
An image came to Camellia’s mind of a small room she thought might be a dressing room attached to a great Residence MasterSuite.
I want a room, too. But you don’t have many. So until We find a new house, I will take a closet.
Camellia reeled back against the table. “I don’t want a new house. I like my house.”
Mica lifted her nose.
We need a house that the mean men can’t come in.
“A fortress more like,” Camellia muttered.
Yes, a Residence would be fine.
There weren’t many intelligent houses and most of them belonged to the highest nobles. The women laughed.
Scooping up Mica, Camellia settled her along her folded arm. “No Residences for us. And I’ve never seen a house that my uncle can’t get into.” She took off toward the teleportation pad.
My fish!
Mica wailed, both telepathically and aloud.

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