Heart Fortune (Celta) (26 page)

The pressure in Jace’s chest didn’t ease much at that, but hair on the back of his neck that had risen at the thought of spending time with Glyssa’s Family lowered a bit.

“All right,” he said, lying. Naturally he didn’t have much of a choice in this unless he dug up a place to stay himself, a hostel or something. His words came out more sourly than he’d wanted. He stood, took his wallet from his trous and set out the amount of the bill and a good tip.

Camellia stood, took Jace’s gilt and held it out to him. “My place, my treat. I’m taking care of this.”

When he moved to take the papyrus notes, she plucked the wallet out of his other hand, studied it, and nodded. “Very nice. You have talent.”

“Let me see.” T’Hawthorn stood, too.

But because his wallet was an early, uninspired piece of leatherwork, Jace stuck it and the gilt back into his pocket fast. “Thank you.” He gave her a half bow.

She glanced at her timer. “I’m behind schedule.” She kissed her husband. “Later.” She looked at Jace. “We’ll expect you and Glyssa midmorning tomorrow to talk about the novel. Of course there will be food.” Then she aimed her gaze at her husband. “Where do you go now?”

“
Nuada’s Sword
,” T’Hawthorn said.

The starship!

Twenty-six

W
hen Laev took Jace and Zem to
Nuada’s Sword
, Zem remained
outside in Landing Park.

The one sentient starship wanted to hear every last detail that Jace could remember of its fellow ship, an older ship,
Lugh’s Spear
—the size of the corridors, the amount of dust in the air, the smell. What components comprised the smell that it could correlate to atmosphere.

Jace spilled everything he knew about inside the ship, commented on the blueprints and the vizes from the expedition, the pics, and the maps drawn up by Del Elecampane. He had an attentive audience in the Ship and Captain Ruis and Dani Eve Elder.

Finally T’Hawthorn put an end to the interrogation, and they walked out into the evening air. Air that wasn’t like
Nuada’s Sword
, or
Lugh’s Spear
, and nothing like the camp. Druida City was next to the Great Platte Ocean, and the sea air, with a touch of salt, dried on his lips.

“Jace!” Glyssa called and ran across Landing Park toward him. She looked good, better than anything he’d seen since they’d walked back from the lake. Outrageous the need he felt for her, how his heart thumped when her body met his and his lips took hers and they tasted each other, cradled each other.

Everything else faded until a continued fake coughing brought him back. Yeah, his mind had been totally gone while he was in a strange place, unaware of his surroundings. Not good.

But he couldn’t bear to release his hold on her, even if he only cherished her fingers in his own.

“Can I stop coughing now?” asked Captain Ruis Elder.

“Of course,” Glyssa said.

“Laev T’Hawthorn is taking you home by glider.” The man gestured and Jace peeled his gaze from Glyssa to see another glider, also purple, also streamlined, but able to carry four.

The GreatLord leaned against it, grinning.

Envy and something more like fear moved inside Jace. That man could crush him, make him disappear, do all sorts of things to him and no one would say a thing. No one might ever know. How did people live in the shadow of such power?

Glyssa sighed. “EveningBell has rung. My Family will be awaiting us.”

D’Licorice Residence wasn’t how Jace had imagined. For one thing, it wasn’t in Noble Country where all the oldest Residences were, wasn’t even in any other noble neighborhood, but in a small parklike estate near CityCenter. In fact, the Licorices’ land connected to the grounds of the PublicLibrary. Within walking and scaling-walls-and-spellshields distance, just beyond a thick bank of pines and other trees.

Though he understood it was an intelligent house, a real Residence, it wasn’t large. Not nearly as large as the PublicLibrary itself. Barely three stories, an interesting-looking place, but not palatial or castlelike, like so many nobles preferred.

When he went through the thick wooden door, he found himself in a small entryway, no grandhall, and the furnishings weren’t something his own mother would have thought of as good. No doubt they were sturdy antiques, and well enough cared for, but they had chips and dings, scratches and the occasional tattered area, worn spots in the rugs.

“So you are Jace Bayrum,” said a woman’s light voice, and he stiffened and immediately stopped scanning his surroundings to focus on Glyssa’s mother.

She wasn’t as tall as he, or quite as tall as either of her daughters, but she held herself with pride. Her face was thinner than Glyssa’s, with worn lines around her mouth and across her forehead, her hair a dark auburn, her hazel eyes intent.

Jace untwined his arm from Glyssa’s. With his best manners, he stepped forward and gave as graceful a bow as he could manage to her. “I am,” he said. He didn’t drop his eyes.

She nodded briefly, then her eyes flamed with curiosity as Zem flew from his shoulder to the newel post at the end of the wide banister edging the stairway to the upper floors. “A hawkcel, nicely colored.”

Thank you,
Zem projected at the same time Jace said the phrase.

A quick nod. “I am Rhiza D’Licorice.” She gestured to the man standing just behind her right shoulder. “My HeartMate and husband, Fasic Almond T’Licorice, whom you spoke with a few days ago, and my older daughter, LicoriceHeir, Enata.”

That daughter, too, had darker hair, greener eyes. Her gaze bored into Jace. He sensed she already disliked him for some reason of her own.

D’Licorice’s mouth turned down. “I suppose I shall have to put you in the rooms next to Glyssa.” Her lips pressed together a moment, then she said, “Come along.” She took off at a good clip up the stairs to the second floor and down the hallway to the right. After a glance at the others, who remained expressionless, he followed the GrandLady. “The suite does
not
have a connecting door to Glyssa’s rooms. It is our best guest suite and the colors are blue and cream. The furnishings feature a lot of lace. I trust your fascinating Fam will not tear the lace.”

He didn’t know whether she was being sarcastic or not.

Zem, who rode once more on Jace’s shoulder, replied,
I do not have a nest here that I would like to decorate with lace.

For a moment the woman stopped, though she didn’t turn around, and shivered. “You nest in the
wilderness
.”

Jace found himself soothing her. “There’s been a camp near
Lugh’s Spear
for a couple of years now. The land is cleared, and there will soon be a town.”

“I hope not,” she murmured, then headed down the hall, threw open a doorway on the left, facing toward the back of the House, with a view of the PublicLibrary in the distance.
This
was more like he’d imagined. Gleaming curves of expensive and polished furniture. Delicate lace and silkeen wall coverings in a watery blue, trim of a cream tint with an edging of gold. Lace accents everywhere. “Please,” the woman said stiffly, not meeting his eyes, “be at home.” She looked at her wrist timer. “Dinner is in three-quarters of a septhour.” She paused. “The waterfall in this suite is one of the best in the Residence.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” he murmured, again doing the half-bow thing.

Her glance grazed him, didn’t stay. “You are quite welcome,” she said, and he knew she lied.

“I’ll be down in half a septhour.”

She nodded and left, closing the door behind her. Jace set his duffle on the thick, pastel Chinju rug.

The lace is very pretty,
Zem said.
It WOULD look good in a nest.

Jace closed his eyes, went to the nearest wing chair and sank down into its soft depths, leaned his head back.

“Welcome to D’Licorice Residence,” said a low and mellow, yet austere, voice.

Jace was too tired to flinch. He didn’t open his eyes. “Thank you, Residence.” He wet his lips. “I’d like to sit here for ten minutes. Could you notify me when that amount of time has elapsed so I can use the waterfall room and get ready for dinner?” Not that he had any appropriate clothes.

“Certainly,” said the House. “Glyssa is obtaining a couple of perches for Zem. One for here, and one for her sitting room.”

“Sounds good,” Jace said. He could hear the slight whir of Zem as his Fam flew through the rooms, but still didn’t open his lashes. The whole day had twanged at his nerves, and this last bit . . . on his way to this suite, he’d passed Glyssa’s. And through the very walls of her rooms, he could see the glow of the HeartGift she’d made for him. He hadn’t brought his own. Hadn’t wanted to give it to her in an impulsive moment he couldn’t take back.

But the radiance of the thing shook him.

When the Residence gave him the time, he opened his eyes and saw a room his mother would be ecstatic to be in. One she’d have done anything to live in.

Jace got up and paced to the waterfall room, stripped off his clothes and stood under the huge, rushing water, soaping himself with nice-smelling, foamy stuff.

He came from the massive greed of his mother, a woman who’d pick, pick, pick at a person until she got what she desired. He came from a man loving a woman and working himself to death to give her what she wanted. And Jace never forgot that.

He always kept his relationships light, always surface, never deep so they roused anything he couldn’t control.

So he was selfish himself, wouldn’t let himself be manipulated by a woman for what she wanted that wasn’t good for him, too.

No, he didn’t want to think about any HeartGifts, way out of his league. The whole day, far from his comfort zone . . . the Ladies’ Tearoom, for fliggering fligger’s sake.

He snorted, tossed wet hair from his eyes, and managed to scrape up some equilibrium.

Until dinner.

D’Licorice herded them all into a dining room, where food in covered dishes already awaited. Everyone took their seat at the table that would hold eight and passed around the food. Jace got the idea that D’Licorice alone chose the menu.

Glyssa’s father introduced a general topic of conversation that rapidly escalated to something Jace didn’t understand, but was of interest to the four Family members.

He ate steadily, and listened, and looked at the quality of the things around him. His mother would have loved them, too.

“Eat your greens, Jace,” D’Licorice said.

He
hated
bitter greens.

“I noticed that Glyssa needed more greens when she got home. She wasn’t getting the best nutrition at that camp,” D’Licorice said.

Jace ate the greens.

“And you must tell me,” the woman plowed on. “Since you’re working with Glyssa on this fiction project. Are your story stylings rooted in good research and fact?”

Jace was sure that Glyssa would have assured her Family, all of them staring at him intently with judging FirstLevel Librarian eyes, that everything they’d written was minutely researched.

He swallowed a mouthful of nasty greens that dressing couldn’t make palatable and said, “Of course. Glyssa is a very good historian for the project, recorded everything right for the Elecampanes, and transcribed Hoku’s journal well.”

Glyssa’s sister snorted.

D’Licorice frowned. “How could you judge? You have no formal train—”

“Enough, Rhiza.” Glyssa’s father smiled at Jace, then stood, went to a cabinet in the corner that turned out to be a disguised no-time, and pulled out a plate of raw spinach, placed it on the table. He served himself, Glyssa, and raised a brow at Jace.

“Thank you.” Jace held out his plate.

“Those aren’t nearly as nutritional as bitter—”

“We know,” Fasic T’Licorice said. “You’re the botanist, but we all know. But it tastes better.”

“Humph.”

Eventually dinner ended. While the Family proceeded slowly to the sitting room for more conversation, Jace retired to his rooms on an errand. He asked and received instructions from the Residence on how to send the small gifts he’d selected to Glyssa’s friends. A cache teleporter was built into the fancy desk. He rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he’d included gifts for the Licorices, too . . . but he’d expected to stay at T’Hawthorn’s. Should have chosen gifts for the Licorices anyway.

A knock came at his door and he opened it to Glyssa’s father.

Fasic T’Licorice gave Jace a direct stare. “Come into my personal library, why don’t you, son?” the man asked.

Twenty-seven

J
ace knew T’Licorice’s offer was more of an order, but kept his posture
easy as he followed the man downstairs. “How many libraries are there in the Residence?”

Laugh lines crinkled around the lord’s eyes as he smiled. “There’s the main library, the hereditary GrandLord or Lady’s . . .”

“That would be your wife’s,” Jace said. This man had married into the Licorice Family and become the Lord that way, just as Raz Cherry had wed Del D’Elecampane to become T’Elecampane.

“That’s right,” GrandLord T’Licorice said mildly, but his smile had vanished. He gestured to an old but expensive-looking furrabeast leather chair in gleaming deep red. “I sense you’re very wary of my wife.”

“She’s a very good manager.”

As he sat in another chair angled toward Jace’s, T’Licorice hooted, grinned again. “That she is. Some people don’t know how to handle those types.”

Jace said nothing. If there’d been a way to handle his mother, neither his father nor he had learned it.

Glyssa’s father studied him in silence, and the truth was, Jace didn’t feel uncomfortable with the man, or the quiet. The guy had his own strength, his own confidence, and Jace bet that people would look at the couple and see—as he had before this moment—a very opinionated woman and a man who seemed to let her set the terms of their marriage. Perhaps a woman smarter than her husband, definitely sharper in manner—as his own had been.

Those conclusions didn’t feel right to him now.

“My HeartMate is a strong-minded woman, a forceful woman. She’s
the
PublicLibrarian of Celta, and that’s an honor and a position that carries some weight here in Druida City, even all of Celta. Something that she is always aware of. Our daughter, Enata, will be the next GrandLady D’Licorice in her time, something she’s been trained for and is always aware of, too.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? I come from a noble GraceHouse myself, one with a small but fairly loving Family.” He shrugged. “The Licorices are as you see us—me, my HeartMate, our two daughters. Rhiza is a lot less . . . formal . . . than she was when we met. I take pride in that.” He glanced around the room. “And the Residence is beautiful and healthy.”

“Yes.” Something they could agree on.

“It’s always interesting to know one’s in-laws’ backgrounds. For instance, Rhiza’s father died quite early in her life and her home life, and this Residence, deteriorated.” A hard note entered Fasic T’Licorice’s voice. Jace raised his brows.

“Neglect bothers me, as it does Rhiza. HeartMates usually hold common views. She and I have worked hard to restore the Residence.”

Jace didn’t know what to say, so made a show of studying the library, really a nice and welcoming place for a guy, then murmured, “Good job.”

“My darling Rhiza didn’t have much of an example on how a strong woman should lead and behave when she was growing up. Her mother is a kind but selfish woman, very vague, constantly misplacing things, and, as I said before, this Residence wasn’t kept up in the manner that it should have been.”

“So Glyssa’s mother reacted to her own mother,” Jace said, as he continued to react to his own.

“That’s right,” T’Licorice said. “And I believe we have done much better with our daughters. I am very proud of Enata and Glyssa.”

“Where’s Glyssa’s MotherDam now?” Jace asked.

“She is living quite happily in Toono Town, the artists’ colony. Rhiza’s father was the hereditary Licorice.”

“Oh.”

“The PublicLibrary was lucky to have a couple of FirstLevel and SecondLevel Librarians to keep faith with the people of Druida City and Celta during my HeartMate’s minority, but she tested for her FirstLevel Librarianship as soon as she became an adult at seventeen, and was confirmed by the testing board then, of course.”

“Of course.”

“I deeply admire Rhiza’s dedication. And she’s my HeartMate. I love her, though I can see her faults when she tries too hard to be perfect.”

“Uh-huh.” So much revelation made Jace uneasy.

“Enata doesn’t have a HeartMate and that hurts her. You wouldn’t know about that,” Fasic ended softly.

Jace flushed but didn’t answer.

“Now, speaking of in-laws’ backgrounds . . .” the man prompted.

“I don’t think—”

“Whether or not you intend to marry into this Family—and I am quite sure my daughter will win you over despite my wife and any other problems that lay between you—I
do
want to know more about you.”

“Who my family is?” Jace asked with more bitterness in his tone than he’d anticipated.

T’Licorice blinked. “Not that so much as how they might have affected you . . . for instance, why you might react more negatively toward my wife than many.”

Jace remained silent.

“Or I could hire Garrett Primross to check into your background. He would probably speak with the Elecampanes first.”

“And you know I’ve been having trouble at the camp.”

T’Licorice shrugged a shoulder. “I know you’re an honorable man. The Lady and Lord wouldn’t give my daughter a HeartMate who didn’t share that trait. Whatever happened or happens at the encampment will not affect my opinion of you.”

“I have no Family.”

Sighing, T’Licorice said, “That is an all too unfortunate occurrence here on our beloved world.” He reached out, offered his arm like one man to another of his own rank. “Think about this, Jace Bayrum with no living relatives. You
can
have a Family. A Family who will admire and respect you. A Family of name and status that will stand by you. Always.”

Jace took his arm, got the clasp over with as soon as possible. “Sounds too good to be true.”

“You don’t trust easily, do you? Well, we can work on that.” T’Licorice smiled as if liking a challenge. “What you might not see is that my wife is fully aware that her brusque manner can make people wary of her, but behind that shell of professional and personal competence, she is tender and easily hurt.”

“Ah.” Jace fought not to squirm. “I do not care to be ordered around.”

Another smile flashed from the lord. “Who does? Just stand your ground.” He winked. “Or slide out of her request, or ignore it. All three options will work. Perhaps.”

“Uh-huh. I think you’d find it easier than I.”

“Because she loves me. And despite what you might have surmised or thought, she loves our daughters very much. She’s like all parents.”

“Most parents,” Jace replied before he thought. The quiet conversation, the man’s easy manner had reduced his guard.

“Ah.”

Again quiet graced the room. Fasic simply looked at him with compassion in his eyes. “Your mother?”

Jace hesitated, but the serenity of the man drew words from him. “She killed my father. Drained him of energy and Flair to save her life and walked away from us.”

T’Licorice’s eyes fired, his face set in lines that promised retribution. He leaned forward. “Where is this female?”

“Dead.”

“But not before she sorely hurt you.” The man scanned Jace. “I understand trusting will be difficult.”

The door simply opened and Glyssa stood there. “Mama wants to speak with you,” she said to her father. All three of them knew it was a lie.

Jace said, “If you’ll excuse me, I am weary.” He stood, letting his tiredness show, though he was close to lying also. He’d gotten his second wind.

Fasic rose and stared at him. “If you insist.”

Glyssa took her father’s arm. “
I
do.”

Inclining his head to Jace, Fasic said, “Sometimes it’s best not to push, to let the bird come to your hand.” His full smile was endearing. “And I hope your BirdFam is enjoying himself.”

“I’m sure he is. I left a window open,” Jace said. “He can come and go as he pleases.”

“And I hope you feel you can do the same,” Fasic said. Glyssa smiled at Jace, and he felt the warmth of it heat all the blood in his veins, before she took her father away to another Family gathering Jace didn’t need to attend. Thank the Lady and Lord.

“What do you wish to do, young man?” asked the Residence, voice coming from a speaker Jace couldn’t see. House was probably riddled with them.

Jace jumped, cleared his throat. “Call me Jace.”

“Do you wish to explore my halls and rooms? Go to the PublicLibrary through the tunnel? Wander our grounds? Leave the estate for sociability with other humans?”

“Do you have a workroom for physical tasks?” he asked.

“To use your creative Flair?” The Residence sounded approving.

“Yes.”

“I will give you instructions to the basement workroom.”

A few minutes later, Jace entered that chamber. The workroom had walls of small cubes stuffed with materials and tools, neatly organized and clean . . . but idle. He
felt
his spirit expand. No one in the Residence used this room, had used this room since . . .

“The former T’Licorice made books,” the Residence said, turning on bespelled lights along the long walls. “My current Family uses their own suites for their creative Flair, but T’Licorice liked this space.”

“It’s great,” Jace said, and it held very few echoes or vibrations of the Licorices. “I am a leatherworker.”

Lights flashed over a table against one of the short walls. “Leathers and tools for such work are here.” The Residence’s voice warmed. “The former T’Licorice, Red Rhiz, occasionally used leather to bind his books, though he preferred cloth.”

Jace crossed to the table, found the finest tools. He swallowed. “I use gold gilding.”

“I know. I have often seen the wallet of yours that Glyssa has.”

Jace blinked. He didn’t recall her mentioning such a thing.

The Residence said, “We have plenty of gilding for you.” A small wooden drawer protruded holding a stack of fine gold sheets. Jace stared, gently took one and laid it on the table. His head swam. No, he wasn’t used to the offhand wealth these people commanded
at all.
Wetting his lips, he asked, “Do you know what kind of wallets and pursenals the Licorices prefer?”

“Rhiza and Enata like long, thin envelope pursenals. Glyssa always carries your wallet, and Fasic likes a trifold.”

“Thank you. I’ll make such for them.” Something to do with his days rather than exploring Druida. “And you, Residence? Would you like a gilded leather panel somewhere?”

A creak came as if in surprise, then a hum. “You could make a rectangular panel fifty by seventy-five centimeters in a dark maroon with gilding for me.”

“Sounds good. We can talk about what kind of pattern you prefer later,” Jace said absently as he reached for a piece of leather that was red, nearly black, that should suit D’Licorice.

Sometime later, he heard the door open, and even later after that, the Residence dimmed the lights. “You should retire now.”

Jace nodded. He hadn’t quite come to a stopping place, but stupid to argue with an intelligent House. Stretching the kinks from his muscles, he turned to see Glyssa sitting in a bar chair, watching him. She blushed. “Your work is beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

She slipped from the chair, came and took his hand. “Come, let’s go to bed.”

His work was forgotten, he put nothing away, just walked fast with her out the door.

And made sure that he had sex with her slowly, tenderly, thoroughly.

* * *

J
ace had thought he’d gained his balance. Until it was time for the midmorning appointment at the Hawthorns.

As soon as they exited from the glider, the Fams took off to hunt on a FirstFamily estate. For some reason they thought the game would be richer here, though Glyssa had told them she didn’t think the Hawthorn mice and skirls were fatter than anywhere else in Druida.

Camellia D’Hawthorn opened the door with a warm smile.

“I brought the unfinished manuscript of Netra Sunaya Hoku’s story for you to listen to,” Glyssa said.

“Listen to?” Camellia asked. “Now? Yay!” She gestured them in and Jace entered the castlelike residence. The grandhall showed two stories of wooden paneling.

“With goodies,” Glyssa said firmly. As if food and a more casual manner might make Jace less nervous. Didn’t work.

“That’s right, goodies,” Laev said smoothly. He picked up Camellia’s fingers and kissed them as he led them to a hallway off the entrance. “I have been told by a cook that eating food at the right time is important.”

Camellia grinned. “Yes, you’re—and I’m—right about that, though I don’t cook much here.” She rolled her shoulders. “I usually get enough of that at the teashops.”

“Which are doing well?” Glyssa asked.

“Extremely well,” Laev said with a smug smile.

Jace couldn’t help himself. He kept craning his head at the luxury surrounding him, the antiques, even the rich smells . . . and his breathing came faster and shallower. He strove to follow the easy conversation.

“The novelty of me, the owner of the tearooms, becoming a FirstFamily GreatLady hasn’t worn off yet,” Camellia grumbled.

“I think it has,” Laev contradicted.

“But there aren’t many places where Commoners might catch a glimpse of a FirstFamily GreatLady on a daily basis,” Glyssa said.

“I’ve told my staff that I have no influence with my husband in what he might care to invest in, if people approach them to talk to me,” Camellia said.