Heart Fortune

fragile.”

Del nodded. Shrugged. “All well and good, and this was a nice visit. But it didn’t help us much.” She stood again. “We still have problems, and if the majority of the crew get angry with us, we’ll be in a bad fix.”

“Final option is that we will have to subsidize their leaving,” Raz agreed.

They both looked at Glyssa. “We don’t want to shut this project down. Once we do, who knows how long it will take to get started up again?”

Del grunted. “Or Laev T’Hawthorn and Straif T’Blackthorn and the other FirstFamilies will swoop in and make it their own.”

Now that was a possibility Glyssa could see. “I don’t want that. This project is yours,” she said before she thought.

“Thanks,” Raz said drily.

Glyssa shrugged tightness from her shoulders. “Camellia deserves her share from Captain Hoku pursuant to Celtan salvage rights.”

“We agree,” Del said. “We’ve always agreed, even before her line of descent was proven in JudgementGrove. We are honorable.”

Glyssa nodded politely.

“This venture has cost us a lot in gilt, energy, Flair, time,” Raz said. “On a project like this, investigating the past, doing something never done before, superstition runs rampant.” He spread his hands. “We are isolated from Druida City and the other smaller cities and towns established on the west coast. Below us is an ancient relic that could hold anything. Great, unimaginable treasures of the past. Knowledge of our ancestors and ourselves beyond anything we have now.” His voice dropped. “Or terrible curses—bad air, sicknesses that still live on from the colonists, or have mutated from Earthan viri to a plague that could kill us all.”

Del snorted and broke the spell that had enveloped Glyssa at the actor’s words. “And we’ll have to deal with danger, and greed. That greed has escalated since we opened the hole down into the interior of the ship.” She squeezed her husband’s shoulder. “Which we haven’t yet planned for.”

“We’ll need dedicated guards. Men and women who actually hire out as those. We had that slated for next year. Time to move it up.”

Sighing, Del subsided back into the twoseat. “So we need to offer shares in the project.” She stared at Glyssa. “Current crew only. Deducted from their pay if they want. We’ll offer that soon.”

“Staff includes you, GrandMistrys Licorice. We did a little checking on you with our friends. You could make a bona fide gesture. Are you in or not?” Raz asked.

Her life wasn’t here. This was only her third day here. Her Family, and their investments, were always conservative, and her gilt was mixed with theirs.

The way the rumors were running around the area, the dissatisfaction of some of the staff could bring down the whole venture. She’d be foolish to put gilt into this. To tie herself and her funds to the Elecampanes instead of Laev T’Hawthorn.

But the thrill of adventure, curiosity, and the yearning for a fascinating project had her saying, “Count me in.”

Raz sprang to his feet, laughed, and hugged her tightly. He was a strong, charismatic man, no matter that he was older than she. A man she’d once had a tiny infatuation for, like most other girls in Druida City. She felt nothing but a low wash of affection for him . . . and excitement at the gamble she was taking.

Del stood, cocked her head, narrowed her eyes. “How much are we talking about from you?”

Since Glyssa had studied her finances before leaving, she named a fairly high figure, and gasped at Raz’s renewed hug.

Del’s eyes glinted as she grinned. “That should buy you some percentage points of the venture.” She tucked her thumbs in her trous pockets. “We’ll figure out what kind of bonus we can give you, too, in a choice of items recovered.”

Glyssa’s eyes went wide. Imagine having something from the starship Lugh’s Spear!

“I’d bet good gilt that Jace Bayrum will be one of the staff who’ll buy into the excavation,” Del said.

Glyssa believed so, too. Maybe she was more like her HeartMate than she thought.

She could imagine his scowl at being tied to a venture financially, the same venture as she.

He wouldn’t like it.

Too bad. She did. And she loved the excitement coursing through her. The dazzling hope of future discoveries.

“I can . . . I can write out a letter to transfer the funds to be taken to my bank by the next airship.”

“We’ll have a contract for you by then, one copy for us, one to be filed with the All Councils Clerk, one for you,” Raz said.

The practical specifics jolted her back a little. No way to keep this from her parents, her sister. They would strongly disapprove and look more askance at her field study than ever.

Laev T’Hawthorn would be disappointed. So would Camellia.

She’d have to explain herself to all of them and she didn’t know how.

Meanwhile Del D’Elecampane had grasped her arm in a show of unity, a bond of business, squeezed. Glyssa returned the pressure, but her airy thoughts had coalesced into a solid, heavy lump in her stomach.

What had she really done? How much trouble was she in now? With her Family since her money would be separated from theirs. With her friends, Laev and Camellia, who’d believed she was on their side if any struggle for control of the project manifested. With the expectations of the Elecampanes for the support she’d be expected to give them, subtly and openly.

With Jace who, if he subscribed to the project like she thought he might, wouldn’t want to be linked with her through business for as long as the excavation went on.

Trouble, for sure. How much, she didn’t know.

Fourteen

A little stunned, a little nauseous at the huge commitment she’d just made, Glyssa trudged back to her pavilion. Once the threshold air turned opaque and hardened behind her into a door, she settled herself. After a minute she slipped into the chair behind her desk and took up her writestick, focused on work. That she could control.

As she wrote, she marshaled her thoughts to record them on a sphere.

Glyssa finished her description of the day, being professionally cool with regard to the accusations against Jace—just relaying the facts. She spent a great amount of time on the description of the box retrieved from Lugh’s Spear. This included an exact tracing of the letters on the carton, and her conclusions, then finished her account.

Satisfied with her report, both written and viz, she decided to use the same procedure for Camellia’s project, a story, of her ancestor, the last Captain of Lugh’s Spear and the pilot who’d landed the ship. The only starship that had had casualties when landing, though all experts at the time had agreed it had been a miracle that no more than seven had been lost.

She researched and thought. Crafted a word, a phrase. Outlined the story.

Time passed and the twinmoons rose. Their half-full, silvery light painted the empty path between the tents. She heard the murmur of voices, then singing. She could barely keep her eyes from closing.

Lepid! she mind-called her FoxFam.

A distant yap came. I am by the fire. You should come, too. It is very pleasant. A pause. Though some people do not sing very well. I sing better than they.

She laughed, then stood and stretched, set the page of her story atop the many sheets of papyrus she’d