calculation. Even accounting for the time change, he was up late.
It’s midnight, there? she asked.
She heard his grunt, sensed he was relaxing in one of his shabby overstuffed chairs in his personal library. They all had personal libraries in their Residence.
Her father replied, One of the FirstFamilies let me visit their HouseHeart with the proviso that it had to be late at night during the heir’s hours. Can’t name the Family, of course, he grumbled. FirstFamily designated anonymously as FFA2 in my report.
Was the HouseHeart lovely?
Gorgeous. I got to remember the chamber. They only insisted I have my recollection how and where to enter removed.
Jace snuffled beside her and she smiled. Soon her father would go up to his HeartMate, and now she knew firsthand how sleeping next to her own felt.
But that is not what I wanted to speak to you about, Fasic Almond T’Licorice said.
Yes, Father? Since apprehension tickled her spine, she put her hand in Jace’s. His fingers curled around hers, but he didn’t wake.
Twenty-one
There is an underlying reason you wished to make the excavation at Lugh’s Spear your fieldwork, her father said with the sureness of knowing his daughter and having spent time thinking about the whole issue.
Glyssa hesitated. If she told him the reason, he would tell his HeartMate, Glyssa’s mother, and her mother would tell Glyssa’s sister. No privacy. And then work and Family would slop around together in a mess.
Perhaps I should state another conclusion, her father said. You will not give up this project, will you? Even if it costs your career?
One huge breath in, released in increments. No.
What would be so important that you would forfeit your career, might have already taken steps away from becoming a FirstLevel Librarian?
You are doing fine with your deductions, she said. She wanted to tell him, but with Jace’s arm moving around her shoulders, drawing her to him, she would not say why. If she didn’t, her father, no matter how much he guessed, how much he sensed, couldn’t state with conviction to the rest of the Family that he was certain why Glyssa had acted the way she had.
She thought her father rose from his seat and poured himself some liquor, then settled again. She could feel his mind turning over facts as he plucked a little at the bond between her and him.
Your HeartMate, he said. You have found your HeartMate! He is there!
I will neither confirm nor deny, she said, but she was smiling at the joy she felt from her father.
Wonderful news, and completely understandable that you would take steps to claim him. But that will not appease your mother. She fears for you there. She tracked down some terrible rumors today.
I will be there within the time period to defend my fieldwork, Glyssa said.
Your banker informed us that you have invested heavily in the venture.
Glyssa flinched, rolled and scooted so she was against Jace’s body.
You are considering staying there . . . or spending the summers there and the winters here, aren’t you?
Yes. It is wonderful here, this project—and her man—is fascinating and has so much potential to change our view of our world. I’ll see you soon, I love you, Dad, Glyssa said.
I love you, too. And I’ll be talking to Camellia tomorrow—later today. Good night, dear girl, blessed be.
Blessed be, she sent back to him, and they both pinched off the telepathic mindtalk link. A good thing because she scooted back to spoon with Jace and found his body hardening.
* * * Through the osmosis of camp gossip, by morning everyone knew that Glyssa was returning for a short time to “consult” with people in Druida. Maybe her GrandHouse Family, maybe her FirstFamily friends. Her popularity increased, and so did Jace’s own.
Everyone also knew he’d spent the night with her. The fact that her rep reflected well on his irritated him a little, but he accepted it as the boon it was.
The staff—and the owners—had gotten to know Glyssa. And though she rubbed some people the wrong way, everyone believed in her honesty and honor. And, like everything else, gossip had gone around that the Elecampanes had checked her out and found her background pristine.
The Elecampanes treated him much like before the whole “thief and bad luck” incident. They might also have finally listened to their daughter Maxima when she said he was a good man. The tension that had stiffened his sinews, settled into his nerves, eased.
He’d volunteered to work over the weekend and was back to exploring and documenting the interior of Lugh’s Spear with the rest of the volunteer team . . . proceeding through the long corridor that the breach opened into. Earning top gilt. The pay for digging was a whole lot less than exploring the ship, and those who wanted to leave on the next transport had to put in backbreaking time.
Speaking of luck, it had certainly been with Lugh’s Spear. Raz Cherry T’Elecampane had made a stirring speech detailing that. The ground had given way underneath the starship, enough that it had plunged down, but it hadn’t broken. Lugh’s Spear lay as it had landed, just sunk fifty meters straight down until it rested on bedrock.
It was as if there had been a perfect storm of circumstances conspiring to preserve the ship. The breach they’d come through had been the break that had occurred during the landing, the rest of the structure had held, and the corridor was clear of rubble . . . as were the rooms they began to investigate, one by one.
Zem didn’t like the inside of Lugh’s Spear and made no attempt to enter. Jace couldn’t blame him because once outside the immediate hole, the area had to be lit with spell lights. They were underground, and constrained by the structure of the ship, and the hallway was as wide as any of the individual rooms they’d found.
Doors were both open and closed and they found more items just left in the hurry to depart, all jumbled together.
The corridor they worked in held larger quarters, for the officers, as notated on the blueprints. Inside the rooms, items—possessions—had been tossed around, but only the delicate had broken, and those could be easily reconstructed to show what they had been. And some of the furnishings, even in these “high status” people’s quarters, were pitifully shabby. Enough to make the heart . . . and the eyes, sting.
Such courageous people.
Jace was working with Andic Sanicle vizing all on a recordsphere before touching anything in the latest room—one shared by a married couple—when Zem contacted Jace telepathically.
You have a scry from Druida City.
He just stopped. He knew no one there. I am working!
The Raz says to come up and take the scry.
Jace cursed.
“What is it?” asked Sanicle.
“Scry for me. Ordered up,” Jace grumbled.
