Heart Fire (Celta Book 13) (32 page)

“Hopefuls,” someone said.

“It is a stupid label,” GraceLord T’Equisetum said.

“As opposed to ‘Traditionalist Stance’?” Tiana asked. “‘Hopefuls’ can be a shortened form of ‘Intersection of Hope members.’ ‘Traditionalist Stance’?” She shrugged and spread her hands.

“I will explain the Traditionalist Stance movement,” GraceLord T’Equisetum said in a condescending tone, staring at Tiana. “We must maintain the high standards for admission into the Noble class. With the onset of greater Flair by everyone, the Testing standards must be raised—and any unusual Flair must be scrutinized.”

“I think you might have a hard time convincing T’Ash, who does the best Testing, of that,” someone drawled.

GraceLord T’Equisetum flushed. “We of the Traditionalist Stance have members in the FirstFamilies households—”

“Does that mean that everyone currently in the NobleCouncils, such as yourself, will be
re
-Tested? To make sure you meet the new standards?” someone asked.

The GraceLord’s mouth opened and closed. “That is not necessary. The current Nobles should be accepted as is.”

“In perpetuity?” someone else questioned.

“Yes,
as is
.” T’Equisetum glanced down at his papyrus of prompts and stated, “Another item we wish to institute to provide stability in our society, in our Councils, is that Lords and Ladies should be required to follow our majority religion that our ancestors crafted for us, the duality of the Lady and the Lord.”

Several people gasped. Then a man stood up and pointed a finger at the GraceLord. Tiana recognized him as Majus T’Daisy, also a GraceLord, who liked a fiery debate in his newssheet.

“Are you bringing up that old lie that the Intersection of Hope people were involved in the Black Magic Cult murders? Everyone knows that’s not true.”

“Is that so?” GraceLord T’Equisetum murmured.

GraceLord Majus T’Daisy rocked back and forth on his heels. “Well, I tend to believe the statements and interviews of the guards involved in the investigation. Or do you not believe the guards?”

“I think the guards might be mistaken.”

“In that particular matter?”

“Yes.”

“As opposed to all the other matters since you voted to increase the percentage of gilt going to them from the gilt the All Councils disperse to various governmental entities.”

“We need a strong guard.”

“All right.” GraceLord T’Daisy scratched his head and Tiana got the feeling he disliked GraceLord T’Equisetum personally. She didn’t keep track of Council politics, but there had to be bad blood between T’Daisy and T’Equisetum.

“Hmm. You think those who govern us”—he winked at the rest of the reporters—“or those of us who govern should all believe the same way, in the Lady and Lord.”

“Yes.”

“The way you believe.”

“Yes.”

“That’s interesting, too, since no one has seen you at a public ritual for some years.”

“What?”

“Why is that?” GraceLord T’Daisy set his feet as if he prepared to roll out a speech, and began. “Is it because of the fact that your intolerance had the High Priest and High Priestess refusing to allow you to participate in rituals that an ordained priest or priestess conducts? Because the High Priest and High Priestess don’t believe that
you
show the compassion they expect in a person who spiritually accepts the religion our ancestors crafted? Just
what
religion
do
you believe in? And, you know, this whole string of shit you’re handing us today just reeks of intolerance. Me? I think I’d like people with compassion and mercy in my life more than I’d like rigid rules.”

“That’s because you have a ThirdDaughter who wishes to Test to establish her own NobleHouse,” GraceLord T’Equisetum snapped.

GraceLord T’Daisy flung out his arms. “Yeah, that’s right. Unlike you, I’m hiding nothing. My ThirdDaughter is hiding nothing. She was counseled by GreatCircle Temple to be ambitious and strike out on her own. I’m very proud of that. Because, you know, she
can
Test and show she is worthy to make her own House, and be accepted as a GraceHouse, too.” Daisy rubbed his chin. “Sure would like to see your most recent Testing.”

“That is not the issue here,” GraceLord T’Equisetum said in freezing tones.

“Yes, let’s get back to the original reason for this show,” someone said. “The cathedral.”

GraceLord T’Equisetum jutted his chin, lips quirking in a smug smile. “Oh, I don’t think it will be built.”

Younger tensed, glanced at Tiana. She shrugged. She didn’t know any more than he.

O
h, wow. Oh, zow.” A boy of about twelve bolted into the room and up to GraceLord T’Equisetum. “FatherSire, you told me to watch the cathedral foundation being laid? It is
so
fascinating.”

“What!” barked T’Equisetum.

“
Nuada’s Sword
sent city-building machines. Really, really old ones. They are
so
interesting. Half of Druida City is watching, and all of my GroveStudy group! Gotta get back!” As quickly as he popped into the room, he zoomed out.

“
Nuada’s Sword
,” GraceLord T’Equisetum snarled.

“Something not going according to plan?” GraceLord T’Daisy asked trenchantly.

“This conference is over.” GraceLord T’Equisetum picked up his notes and marched toward the side door.

“I certainly hope so,” GraceLord T’Daisy said. “I hope your whole ‘movement’ is over. We don’t need people who hate some folk making rules for all folk.” He hitched his trous up over his substantial belly. “’Cuz, you know, if you hate Commoner Joe on the weekday of Mor according to your own personal rules, how do I know you aren’t gonna hate GraceLord T’Daisy on Twinmoonsday? And use everything you got against me until I gotta cry ‘feud’ on you? Myself, I’d like to go with folk like the High Priest and Priestess and the Chief Ministers of the Intersection of Hope who love Commoner Joe on the weekday of Mor . . .”

Laughter rippled through the room as GraceLord T’Equisetum stormed out.

GraceLord T’Daisy beamed. “By the way, colleagues and friends . . . well, colleagues. I am writing a nonfiction book on the Black Magic Cult murders . . .”

More laughter at his promotion.

Tiana tipped her head at Younger and, still smiling, left and took the public carrier back to work.

When she walked into her chambers at GreatCircle Temple, she faced the accusing gaze of Felonerb.
You left Me alone in TQ. Who smoked Me AGAIN! I had only kilt three little mousies outside in a stinkbush.

“I
did
tell you when I left for CityCenter.”

He grumbled,
No glider today
.

“Not yet.” Though her stomach tensed at the idea she might be assigned one to serve her complaint.

Now that the ordeal of the press conference was over and the complaint yet to come, hunger spiked through her and she went to her near-empty no-time. She might have to eat a meal placed there to share on a holiday ritual altar, but she needed a snack.

She opened it and gasped. It was full. Every section. And she had no idea who’d stocked it, since, like many, she didn’t keep her chambers or the no-time locked. If anyone—priestess, priest, or visitor—needed a place to sit and think, or food and drink, they were welcome to hers.

Staggered, she pulled out a piece of dense brown bread and butter that she believed would soak up any remaining acid in her stomach nicely, put it on a plate, and indulged in hot cocoa with white mousse.

Felonerb, meowing at her feet, got a steaming plate labeled “Protein for CatFams.”

As she munched, she studied the Intersection of Hope ritual set for this evening, reading the praise and prayers so she could commit them to memory. Simple enough.

She’d just put the two dishes in the cleanser and had taken her seat again when great Flair washed her way.

GreatLord T’Ash and GreatLady D’Ash stood on her threshold. He was big and swarthy with startling blue eyes; she small and brown-haired. Both radiated intensity.

At his slightest glance, Tiana found herself rising.

He had a piece of rolled and wax-sealed papyrus in his hand. “Your complaint has been approved by the general clerk of all the JudgementGroves as pertinent.” He stalked forward and laid the scroll on her desk. “We think that the best strategy in this action would be for you to present the complaint to GraceLord T’Equisetum at NobleCouncil this morning.”

“We?”

T’Ash scowled as if unaccustomed to being questioned. She hadn’t had any interaction with him but had heard that though he was a very tough man, he wasn’t unkind. Anyone who grew up in the slum Downwind wouldn’t have a sense of entitlement. That included T’Ash as well as Antenn Blackthorn-Moss.

“Me, Winterberry, and T’Blackthorn, whom I consulted.”

“SupremeJudge Ailim D’Elder, whom
I
consulted,” Danith D’Ash said.

“Oh.” Tiana gestured to her two patron chairs. “Please, sit.”

He inclined his head and lowered into the one closest to the door, and Tiana got the impression it was a fighter’s move to guard her and his HeartMate.

“I am pleased to help you in this matter,” he said gruffly.

“And I am honored,” she replied, curtseyed, and sat again.

T’Ash’s face looked carved from stone, expressionless, but eyes hurting. Whatever else he felt had his HeartMate, Danith D’Ash, moving from her chair to his lap.

“I understand losing everything to a firebomb,” he said.

Tiana spoke gently, trying to move him from that hideous moment in his own past. “But you saved your Residence and rebuilt your home, and have a loving HeartMate and four children.”

His stiff form relaxed. “Yes.”

Then he smiled, a feral one. “After I followed the Vengeance Stalk, killed most of the Flametrees and the Rues.” He shrugged his massive blacksmith shoulders. “Got the rest of them sterilized and banished from Druida City for life.” One jerk of a nod as if he liked the job he’d done.

Again his stare met hers. “And I know what it feels like to have a Family member not fight for you.”

“My parents—” she began, but he stopped her with a raised palm.

“Even though she was a HeartMate, my mother chose to die with my father instead of live for me, help me for a year, her child.”

D’Ash made a little noise and hugged her HeartMate tighter. “I can’t say—”

He stroked her hair. “She wasn’t as strong as you are. You would never have abandoned a child of our own. And you would have fought for his title, his wealth, his estate.”

This was not going at all the way Tiana thought it would.

T’Ash said, “I will fight for you, for your estate, against the stupid politicians and sly enemies who took it from you. I will be there to back you up when you file your complaint. We will meet you at NobleCouncil in half a septhour.” He stood, his small HeartMate cradled in his arms, nodded at Tiana’s openmouthed, wide-eyed self, and strode out of her chambers. She thought either he or D’Ash opened the doors with Flair. Her mind scrambled at the thought of actually taking the complaint approved by the general JudgementGrove clerk and handing it to GraceLord T’Equisetum.

The time had come.

Before she’d caught her breath, Antenn propped himself against Tiana’s doorjamb, tucking his thumbs in his trous pockets. “T’Ash makes a statement.”

Tiana squeaked. That wasn’t what she’d tried to say. Reaching for her cup that held a last swallow of cocoa, she slugged some down since her mouth was still open.

Felonerb jumped up on her desk and sat purring, a grin on his face.
We are allied with the great ZANTH! I will go tell him.

Choking, and risking her fingers, Tiana grabbed her cat by the scruff of his neck, seeing blood in their future if she didn’t restrain him. “No! You know how, uh, prideful Zanth is. He challenges new toms he meets . . . and, uh, you are, uh,
RatKiller
. Leave the old tom—”

Antenn rolled his eyes, no doubt knowing Zanth personally, but Tiana continued fast-talking. “—alone. He is no match for you and it would be pitiful to watch his defeat.”

Felonerb preened.
Very well. It’s time for My morning sitting in sun, anyway. There is some sun in the other room.
He strolled into her sitting room and Tiana heard a plop and grunt.

“Nice save,” Antenn said. He stared at her and she wanted to be alone with him, back in her bed in TQ.

But what he said was, “You’re allies with T’Ash?” His voice held incredulity.

“I, uh, yes, I think.”

“You, personally. Not your Family.”

She rubbed her temple. “I don’t know.”

Antenn pushed against the jamb, walked into her office, and took the chair D’Ash had been sitting in. “It will all shake out,” he said.

“I
do
feel shaken. Things are moving so fast.” She wanted to just sit and stare at this man who was her lover—would be her lifelong mate—but this was work. “How’s the cathedral coming? I heard that the starship
Nuada’s Sword
lent machinery.”

His jaw flexed. “Touch and go this morning when Apex Mage Builders backed out.” His gaze bored into hers. “I think GraceLord T’Pulicaria is with GraceLord T’Equisetum and the Traditionalist Stance folk.” Then Antenn’s gaze went to the window and one side of his mouth lifted. “I listened to a report of the press conference. Good job.”

“I didn’t say much. I didn’t have to.”

His eyes flicked back to focus on her. “Good job.”

“Thank you.”

He glanced at his timer. “We’re working hard to get the foundation in. We’ll have some stone blocks of foundation ready to cast the spellshields on by the time the ritual starts this evening.”

“Good, though I haven’t often done spellshields.”

“I have, my father has, the other FirstFamily Lords and Ladies, and even lesser Nobles have raised them, as well as the professional whom the Intersection of Hope hired to do the spell. He’s not too pleased with the idea of taking part in a ritual, but he’ll do it. And he wants a copy of the ceremony, now.”

“So you came to pick that up,” Tiana said, reaching for a papyrus from the stack to her left and handing it to Antenn.

He smiled. “No, I came because I haven’t been able to get you out of my head and I needed to see you. Otherwise I’d’ve asked TQ to give me a copy, or the Temple itself. You had them both make dozens.”

“Yes.” Her exhalation was shaky, this time due to rising desire.

Taking the sheet, he stood. “I can’t stay here. I can’t touch you, or all reason will drain from my head.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. After you serve that complaint on T’Equisetum, come look at the foundation going in for a little while. It’s a beautiful day and it’ll take your mind off the man.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Later.” But he walked around her desk, bent and brushed her cheek with a kiss, and vanished. Leaving her aching for him. But their bond had grown in circumference and strength. A regular mental, emotional bond.
Not
the HeartBond. She’d known him for only three days and wondered how long it would be before they
would
HeartBond.

Probably before she knew all his flaws.

Or he learned hers.

A scary thought, that they might be propelled by fate into linking their lives together without good consideration.

She stood and picked up the complaint, weighed the thick, rich papyrus in her hand, stared at the red seal. A move she couldn’t take back. Like learning who her HeartMate was.

But she’d already committed, had filed the petition, had
T’Ash
, of all people, at her back. Lady and Lord.

Felonerb trotted in, let out a belch, and said,
Let’s go to see the nasty man. I will bite him. On the ankle. Maybe on the ear. Is he a tall bad man?
He shook his head.
No, not the ankle. I do a mighty LEAP and bite him on the ear. Claw his head. Maybe go for his nose. No, his EYES. Yes, yes, YES!

She stared at her wonderful Fam—her wonderful
violent
Fam—and nodded. “Yes, I would very much like you to come with me and support me.” She sucked in a big breath, through her teeth even, with a rude noise, but no one but Felonerb could hear, and he stared at her in admiration. “We’ll go, and perhaps you can stay outside the door—uh, guard it in case he might escape.”

YES! I can do that! I am EXCELLENT at sitting at miceyholes!
He grinned widely and she saw that his teeth looked better. With one of his mighty leaps he landed on her shoulder, settled his still-bony rump, gave
her
ear a lick, and said,
We go now. D’Ash is waiting for us. I like looking at her.