Heartmate (36 page)

“Monkshood, Chief Clerk of All Councils,” an arrogant voice said.

“D'Mallow,” Danith replied, glad her new scrybowl didn't make her move from the table to look into it for a viz. She'd figured out how to project a holo. Molecules of magically magnetized water surrounded her, showing through the scrybowl to the caller.

“We must schedule a mental, telepathic psychological test to place you in relation to others in GrandHouse Rituals. We need to understand how your
obscure
Flair will interweave with other members of the
established
GrandHouses. No doubt you will not be close to the
real
GrandHouse nobles, those twelve that belong to the FirstFamilies.” His long nose wiggled as he made a note with a writestick. “Humph, yes, testing. Let me check on an appropriate time for an appointment.”

Danith raised her eyebrows. “GrandMistrys Balm didn't inform me of this.”

The puce-jowled man in the holo frowned. “She has contacted you? She oversteps her authority. Again.”

“She said she was the clerk of the NobleCouncil. That sounds as if she is the one in charge—”

“Humph.” The man waved Danith's words away as if they were bitemites. He looked down at a sheet of papyrus and his long nose wiggled. “Half into ThirdBell, tomorrow. Be at the gardengate of Acacia GrandHouse.”

Danith stared at him.

The air shivered around her. With a snap T'Ash appeared. He looked at her, then directed his gaze to the holo. “Little Mister Monkshood.”

“ThirdSon of the former T'Ash,” Monkshood sneered back.

Danith sighed. Another person T'Ash disliked and who returned his dislike. She wondered exactly who T'Ash did like, and felt a sinking feeling that she was included in a tiny minority.

“What's he want?” T'Ash asked her.

“Something about psychological testing.”

“Is that so?” He turned to the holo man with a fierce smile. “Don't you have my confirmation of D'Mallow's Test in front of you, Monkshood? How negligent.” T'Ash sounded smoother than she'd ever heard him. Was this his Noble GreatLord side, something she'd missed?

Monkshood's eyes narrowed and a small hiss came from his thin lips. He jerked a papyrus in front of him.

“That's it.” T'Ash smiled again. Danith wouldn't ever like that smile directed at her. “Nice certificate, isn't it?” He drew out his broadsword.

Danith gaped at the length of steel unsheathed in her mainspace.

T'Ash whisked a cloth from his belt and began rubbing the sword to a bright shine, applying Flair Danith felt straight to her bones. He glanced up at the functionary. “You don't have any questions with my certificate or the Heir to the Holly's now, do you? Nothing like those questions of me before I was confirmed as T'Ash, do you?”

The uncommon melodious note in T'Ash voice made Danith shiver.

“No,” Monkshood said. He hesitated a moment, then his mean little eyes seemed to light with an inner, obsessive fire. He glared at Danith. “Half ThirdBell, tomorrow—”

“Now, before you go—” T'Ash interrupted smoothly in turn. “Read me the rule where it says D'Mallow must subject herself to some sort of psychological test.”

Monkshood smiled a smile as nasty as T'Ash's own, but his color heightened. He pulled over a book, a well-thumbed rule book that appeared to be always near at hand.

“The new noble may be asked to allow his/herself to be tested by a certified Healer and Psychologist.”

“Why don't you read the entire paragraph for us, Monkshood, all the way from the section number,” T'Ash advised.

More narrowed eyes and bared teeth. Monkshood's gnarled finger moved up the page.

“Just a moment.” With a thud a large dark blue leather-bound book appeared in T'Ash's hands. The sword balanced point down on the cloth, gleaming. The smell of hot metal and graphite cleaner wafted to her nose. Danith stared at the weapon. Did T'Ash just do three simultaneous magical actions?

She narrowed her own eyes to match the men's. Three simultaneous actions made him great in Flair indeed. He was showing off. To Monkshood? Or to her? Probably both.

T'Ash flipped the heavy pages of his book. “The section number, Monkshood?”

“Section four, Paragraph two: ‘If the test results of a nominee are equivocal, upon request of two Nobles, one of Head of GrandHouse or greater status, the new Noble may be asked to allow his/herself to be tested by a certified Healer and Psychologist.'”

“Hmmm,” T'Ash said. “Very creative reading, as always. My testing of D'Mallow placed her in the 98th percentile of a GrandHouse, did it not? That is hardly equivocal. And perhaps you will tell me the names of the two Nobles who requested further testing?” Now T'Ash leaned on his sword. Somehow the weapon didn't sink into Danith's floor.

Monkshood stared at them flatly. “I seemed to have misplaced the request. I'll viz back—”

“No. Council Record Verifier on.”

From the background of the clerk's office a metallic voice wheezed, “Verifier.”

“T'Ash, FirstFamily GreatLord, requesting immediate notification of questioners of D'Mallow's Testing. As the testor, do I have this right?”

“You have the right,” the magical-machine stated.

“Can I also request the entire matter of further Testing be dropped if the names are not provided?”

A whir. “Correct.”

“Well, Monkshood?”

The functionary slammed his book closed. “The matter is closed.”

“Good.” T'Ash said. “Just as well. Though I would have liked to hear whom you would have scraped up to go against my Testing Stones. Gliding very close to a rollover, Monkshood. Barely escaped with your skin, don't forget that. And Danith doesn't succumb to intimidation, I've tried. You remember that, too. Call over.”

The droplets forming her holo evaporated in a rush of warm air. She could only think of one thing to say. “You called me ‘Danith,' before him. The gossip will fly.”

“I teleported here. Monkshood will think I'm a close friend or you have poor security. Which do you want a petty man like him to believe? He can make your life a misery. He was a thorn in my side a few years ago.”

He sheathed his sword and paced up and down her mainspace. It didn't provide much room for his energy. “The evening newsheets shout of your new Noble status. We're mentioned in the Society column.” He shrugged his shoulders. “There could be rumors that you have a fortune in jewels here.”

Danith shivered.

“You have lousy security. I don't like you staying here alone.”

She lifted her chin. “I have Princess.”

T'Ash looked at the small, furry, jewel-bedecked cat lounging on the settee and snorted. He crossed to Danith and cupped her chin in his hand. “Come with me. The T'Apples are having a party. They have great food. I suspect Zanth haunts the underside of their tables even now.”

Danith smiled at the thought. “No.”

“Then dine at T'Ash Residence. We have a variety of wonderful food in the no-time. You haven't seen the MistrysSuite—”

“No.”

His jaw tightened and bleakness came to his eyes. He looked at Princess and said lowly, “I am tired of being alone.”

So had Danith been, a few days ago. Now so many people, and cats, came and went in her life, she needed more time to try and put her life back in order. She sighed once more. “Not tonight, and not at night.”

One side of his mouth quirked upward. “Not at night. You don't want to see my MasterSuite? My bedroom is large and pleasant. I have a GreatLord-size bedsponge, nice windows. My view of the HardRock Mountains is good.”

The view was probably fabulous. The man, and everything about him, had brought riches into her life. Nothing was in a scale she understood anymore. Not small houses as a living space, not a mediocre accounting job, not Common status.

She crossed her arms.

His eyes glinted at her from half-lowered lids, his lips curved a bit more. He dipped a hand in his trous pocket. “You might want to look at these.”

When he unfolded his fingers, two exquisite redgold earrings sat glowing fire on his palm. They were made from layers of fine wire, intricately twisted and knotted. She'd never seen anything so complex and beautiful so small. They pulsed with a dark, intense power that pulled at her marrow, stirring her deepest urges.

“Another gift?” She couldn't seem to manage more than a whisper. She couldn't tear her gaze from them. Somehow she tried to follow the twists and turns of the wires and even as she traced them, hidden pathways within her opened.

“You may have whatever I can give you,” he replied, as softly as she, but with a husky note. He seemed to be holding his breath.

Her hand hovered over the earrings glittering on his palm.

The tips of her fingers dropped.

A shattering scream plunged knifelike into her head.

Rage. And pain.

T'Ash's head jerked back. His hand fisted. “Zanth!”

Fourteen

T
'
Ash shoved the earrings in his pocket and grabbed
her. Cold and blackness shocked her as they teleported away. When she opened her eyes they stood at the fountain of the Dark Goddess on the Blackthorn estate.

T'Ash climbed up to the fourth basin of the towering fountain and balanced on the rounded rim, looking into the top bowl. Danith scrambled after him. Inside Zanth lay crumpled, a black and white heap dark against the shimmering white marble of the fountain. Beside him lay the great purple lambenthyst. The hole where it had been freed from the marble by his claws gaped black as death.

The odor of singed cat-hair hung in the air.

T'Ash reached for his Fam.

“Don't touch him!” Danith cried.

He looked at her, torment in his eyes. Then his expression relaxed a bit. “You're Animal Healer. Heal.” His gaze swept to the stone. “I'm Stonemaster. The Stone is mine.”

His hands shaped the air around the stone. He sucked in a sharp breath. He closed his eyes and the stone rose slowly.

A low keening hurt her head. Danith tore her stare from the stone and T'Ash, and she reached for Zanth.

She hesitated, her hands a few centimeters from him. His fur lifted to touch her fingers. Shock. Shock. Shock.

Electricity pulsed to her from him. Somehow Danith pushed it through her and into the marble, felt it rippling down the fountain instead of water, then grounding in the earth.

After a minute she laid her hands on Zanth. His heart beat rapidly and irregularly. She knew the rhythm of a cat's heart from Princess. His delicate nervous system, as developed as a human's, had frazzled, and needed mending. Danith recalled the lesson T'Ash had taught her. Welding wasn't what was needed here, but perhaps she could do some binding and then interweaving, like making a flower chain.

She tried a simple chant she used while her fingers worked stems and flowers in the spring ritual, adapting some of the words to Healing phrases. She felt her heart pick up beat to match Zanth's, then her own even rate steadied the cat's.

She transformed the electricity still crackling in him and between them into the power, the Flair to Heal. She closed her eyes. And in her mind, she saw frayed nerves bind and meld into a solid system once more.

ME HURT! BAD STONE HURT ME. TOO STRONG.
Zanth's eyes opened.

Danith shuddered. His eyes had once been the color of light green jade. Now they matched his emerald collar.

Very slowly she withdrew mentally from his body, like cautiously pulling invisible hands from him until the energy fit once more into her own fingers and palms.

She toppled sideways, off the fountain.

A hard, strong arm caught her before she fell.

She looked up to T'Ash. The lambenthyst floated over the open palm of his other hand. His body felt sturdy and safe against hers. He smelled of great Flair and man. A glimmer of sweat touched his brow.

Her eyes locked with his. Something deeper, but just as shocking, passed between them.

Great Flair that he was, he had deferred to her, trusted her with his most precious friend. She had used a spell he'd taught her, something he'd given her to achieve a feat of Flair of her own.

They had worked together.

Nothing would be the same.

T'Ash looked at Danith. He could look at her forever. Her stunned gaze snared his. His gaze. His heart. His soul. He fell into the depths of her greeny-gold eyes and beyond, into the rich fruitfulness of her generosity—to heal his Fam when she had no training, only instinct to guide her.