Heart Fortune

“And you, too, of course.”

“Yes.”

Glyssa nodded briskly, walked over to the unit and gestured to him. “Come and I’ll key it for you.”

He stood, then joined her.

She swayed as if she’d step away, but she didn’t. Her turn to clear her throat. “I’ll key it to your Flair.” Taking his hand—had hers always been so soft and smooth? He nearly shuddered at her touch. Her first real touch since they’d parted all those years ago. He’d left her and the teeming Druida City and the best sex he’d ever had. A kernel of a notion—that he’d been a fool—lodged in the depths of his mind.

She put his hand on the ident plate, said, “Jace Bayrum, authorized by Glyssa Licorice.”

Light flashed and Jace’s hand warmed and tingled as the unit’s spellshields accepted him.

Look, look what Zem and I can do! Lepid chortled.

Glyssa withdrew her hand, did take a pace away from Jace, and looked at their Fams.

Lepid stood on the seat of the chair. Zem transferred himself to the FamFox’s back, curled his right foot around Lepid’s collar. With a fluid movement that didn’t dislodge Zem, Lepid slid to the floor, glided toward them with a big foxy grin. We can go together! Lepid said.

I can ride the fox, Zem added drily.

“Wonderful!” Glyssa clapped. “What clever Fams!”

“Yes,” Jace said. He lifted his Fam from Lepid to the top of the no-time. “We’ll key the machine to him, and it has capabilities for Fam use?”

“Of course,” Glyssa said.

“Of course,” Jace repeated with less enthusiasm.

She grinned. “Laev doesn’t buy anything less than the best. It can get irritating sometimes.”

“Not anything I’ve ever had to deal with,” Jace said gruffly.

Her smile faded and she nodded.

Jace concentrated on getting Zem situated on the ident plate. “Zem, HawkcelFam, authorized by Jace—” he stopped. “This won’t hurt him, will it? BirdFams aren’t common.”

Glyssa hesitated. “I could send a mental query to Laev . . . wait, I have the instructions.”

“Of course you do.” Jace smiled at her.

She flashed a smile back that warmed him. They were negotiating this situation pretty damn well, not treading too much on tender feelings, not irritating each other—okay, that had been his problem, not hers, so he’d work on it. Probably.

She hurried into the inner room of the tent—would he ever see her bedroom? Did he want to? Yes, but without strings attached, and Glyssa seemed to be made up of sticky threads that led to intimate links and connections.

He heard a low chant of couplets . . . her archival cabinet, no doubt, better secured than the food no-time, though he’d bet it was older and less expensive.

A minute later she came back, with a sheet of papyrus in her hand, her mouth turned down. “I have the specs for the no-time unit, and it states the power-energy-whatever that it sends during authorization, but I really don’t know how much that is, what it means.” She shook the papyrus as if it would answer her question.

Naturally, Glyssa wouldn’t pay attention to the amount of Flair needed to access the units, or the amount it used to interact with people—or Fams. She probably never had to consider Flair limitations in her life.

“Give it to me,” he said. He was good with his hands, and machines. He studied the amount, looked at Zem. The bird was Flaired, was an intelligent being. Probably could handle the Flair-energy voltage.

Meeting his Fam’s eyes, Jace said, “Let’s try something first, all right?”

Yes, FamMan. I love you, FamMan.

“I love you, too, Zem.” Carefully Jace lifted the bird from the no-time, set him on the cushy arm of a chair. Spreading his feet, Jace gathered the exact amount of the Flair-energy charge that the no-time papyrus instructions indicated. “On three I will touch your—”

Zem lifted and stretched out a claw. Jace nodded.

This is SO interesting. Lepid hopped around. Zem will be able to open the food no-time! He cast a sad-eyed look at Glyssa. I was not allowed to open the food no-time.

“I don’t trust you not to gorge,” Glyssa said, picking up the young fox. Which was good, because the animal was distracting . . . but her words soothed Jace, as if she could have keyed the unit to Lepid but chose not to. Zem definitely had the same or more Flair than the FoxFam.

More confident, Jace smiled at Zem. The bird hunched less, feeling the assurance Jace sent through their bond.

Again Jace felt the strength of the Flair he’d gathered. It was right. He touched Zem’s claw and released it.

Zem’s beak clicked once. Tingles!

Jace let out a breath. A couple of minutes later, Zem was authorized for the no-time and set on the floor to tap his beak against the sensitive spot that swung the door and various trays open for him.

Lepid had been told to sit on Zem’s perch chair and not get down. That didn’t stop his whole body from wriggling.

“We can change the bottom compartment to be the largest,” Glyssa said. “So it can hold . . . whatever it needs to hold for Zem, and be easily accessible.”

Jace just stared at the stuffed no-time, the indicator of all the food and drink. Food for every meal. Food for snacks. Hot and cold drinks. Hot and cold food. Food for ritual meals. “It still reads full,” he said. There were furrabeast steaks stacked in there. His mouth watered. He turned his gaze to Glyssa and she pinkened again.

“You’ve been here a little over an eightday and haven’t eaten anything.”

“I’ve put out flatsweets and drinks!”

He just stared.

She crossed her arms. “All right. We’re savers, the Licorices. We save. Just in case.”

He shook his head.

So she flung open her arms, reddened more. “Eat, eat it all! I don’t care. Eat whatever you want.” But an odd expression passed over her face. “Eat it all,” she repeated more firmly.

He was tempted, but he knew he wouldn’t be eating much in his tent. The odor of furrabeast steak coming from his place might cause a riot from his neighbors.

“Better that everyone in camp thinks this thing is empty.” He rapped his knuckles on the no-time. It sounded full.

She blinked, nodded. Oh, yeah, she was smart, she’d already figured out the ramifications. Moving toward him, she gestured him aside so she could rearrange the inside storage.

“I guess there’s no way for you to put some of this in your other no-times.”

Stopping, she sent him an appalled glance. “Put food in my document no- time!”

“Guess not.”

“Barbarian,” she muttered.

He laughed. His stomach grumbled.

Lots of things smell really good! Lepid said.

It took her only a few minutes to reorder the food and change the menu readout. Then they all left her pavilion and paraded with the floating thing through the camp, Lepid broadcasting answers to any questions. When they reached Jace’s tent, Glyssa remained outside as he moved stuff around and fit the no-time in.

“Thank you again,” Jace said.

Carolinia and I will hunt now, Lepid said.

The FamCat separated herself from the shadows. I can do that, for some special food from your new no-time.

“Done,” Jace said.