Raz made a wide gesture. “So innocuous. Things none of us liked and every one looked just like the rest. And a man we trusted.” Raz colored in anger and what Jace felt himself, embarrassment at being a stup.
“He’s been the villain all along!” Maxima said.
Cornuta Holly sent a stare her way. “He certainly planned well. He stole a stridebeast—the animal has returned by itself unharmed. My people found its track and followed it to a large clearing where it looks as if a small airship recently landed and took off.”
“Huh,” Del said. She gathered Maxima close and stepped up to Raz and linked her arm around his waist. Family solidarity . . . and affection.
Jace had never known that. Didn’t quite believe in it even as he saw it in the Elecampanes.
“Myrtus’d be able to trade a stick or two for a ride,” Jace said. “Contact someone in Druida City through the communications system or telepathy or with a letter given to one of the shuttle pilots.”
“I liked him,” Glyssa murmured.
“We all did,” Raz said.
“He didn’t actually hurt anyone with those explosions that sent the sticks flying. Some of those sticks were destroyed, but there are plenty still left in the ship. So he wasn’t much of a villain,” Maxima said, leaning her head on her mother’s shoulder. “He was just greedy.”
“Sorry to give you the bad news,” the Holly said with an expressionless voice. Jace thought that everyone in the tent heard her unspoken message that real security had been lacking at the camp.
“I like how the camp’s been run,” Jace said.
The guard captain gave him a flat stare and he smiled at her. “You’ll like working for the Elecampanes, too, and the . . . uh . . . energy of this place.” He hoped that didn’t change much.
“Go ahead and follow up, do what you think you need to do,” Del told the woman.
The Holly nodded, pivoted, and marched out.
Raz T’Elecampane blew out a breath, turned to Jace. “I want to put you on moving the communications array. We got word yesterday from the Elder Family and
“All right,” Jace said.
“But I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on that until late morning. See me then.” A smile twitched on and off his lips. “After Glyssa and Maxima and those noblewomen leave.”
“All right,” Jace said, very aware of Glyssa, tense and silent beside him.
At that moment the tinkling of a silver bell came from Glyssa’s pavilion. Everyone but Jace flinched.
“That’s the noble Comosum sisters now,” Del said. “Another interminable meal.” Her tones were gloomy.
Glyssa managed a chuckle. “I don’t have to attend this one. Only those with titles.”
Maxima brightened. “That leaves me out, too. I think I’ll walk to the communications tent and see if anyone is using the viz. If not, I want to scry Doolee.”
Lepid shot through the door, along with the other fox and two FamCats.
Glyssa managed a laugh and lowered to accept his licks. “I heard.”
“Wait, Maxima and Glyssa,” Del said, flinging out her hands. “We’re hosting the breakfast. Help us set up. I’ve got the food in the no-time.”
Jace lent a hand, and was impressed at the results. When they were done, the Elecampanes’ pavilion sitting room resembled something that he’d expect a nobleman’s dining room to look like, with nice chairs and proper linen softleaves, flatwares, and delicious odors rising from covered dishes.
Del grunted. “Well, it’s the best we can do. Go on over and escort those ladies here, please, Maxima.”
The girl left, and Lepid shot from the tent as if he wanted to avoid any chance of meeting the sisters.
“I think I’ll take a last walk around the camp,” Glyssa said, “then pack.” She sighed. “I was hoping against hope—”
“Sorry to box you into returning, but we trust you with Maxima, not those Comosums or even a Cherry pilot,” Del said.
Glyssa nodded.
“You do have a significant interest in this venture,” Raz said smoothly. “I have no doubt you’ll be back.” A slight pause. “We will need a historian, if
“Thank you,” Glyssa choked.
Jace found himself taking her arm. “Let’s walk and talk.” He didn’t know what he’d say. Something.
And the light of the HeartGift he’d made Glyssa that was stuck in the safe glowed so brightly he didn’t know how anyone—including her—managed not to see it.
“I want to show you one of my favorite places,” he said.
And her smile for him glowed, too.
“Zem has his nest there.” Probably had observed Jace before they’d met. Jace took her hand and they walked, talking about nothing in particular for several kilometers, to a lake where Zem and Lepid already hunted and played. He gestured to a solid log where he liked to sit.
She didn’t speak or break the quiet, and words popped from his mouth. “You’re my HeartMate,” Jace said.
She gave him a long, cool stare. “Yes.”
“You came here because of me.”
“One of my reasons. As well as the project of
He glanced at her hand that he’d held as they’d walked. She’d been rubbing the rough texture of the bark absentmindedly, but now her fingers had fisted.
Instinctively he reached out and curled his hands over hers. She didn’t relax, didn’t turn her hand over to clasp his, or intertwine fingers in the easy affection they’d been showing to each other.
And he knew with wonder, that pushy in many other things, she would not push here and now.
He said, “You didn’t give me your HeartGift. You could have offered it to me and I would have accepted it and you could have claimed me as your HeartMate and I would have had to go with you.”
She lifted and dropped a shoulder. “That’s the logical course of events with regard to a HeartGift.” Finally she turned her head and showed him a very serious face, so pale that her freckles stood out against her skin, brown eyes wide. She shook her head. “That would be forcing you into a situation you didn’t choose. I couldn’t do that. That would be wrong.”
“You didn’t even bring your HeartGift for me.” He’d have sensed it if it had been in the camp.
“No.”
For an instant his mind spun, whirling and flipping the situation.
He didn’t think that he’d’ve refrained from offering it to her. Imagined triumph surged into him when she’d accepted it and he claimed her. A flush had come to his skin, and he was both pleased that she hadn’t forced the issue and irritated at the fact that he might have.
She believed in rules, in strict standards of honesty. He liked to bend rules and . . . fudged on honesty now and again.
He nudged her with his shoulder. She was so stiff she toppled and he grabbed her and settled her close to him.
“Thank you.” Equally stiff words from Glyssa at her primmest.
“Yeah, you’d think claiming me with your HeartGift would be wrong, since I’ve made it clear I don’t care for anyone else but me deciding my fate. And I’m just not ready for this. At all. Don’t know when I will be. Sex is enough.” He touched her cheek—she wasn’t looking at him again, but staring at the blue, blue lake. “But I think part of what kept you from offering me your HeartGift was also your pride. You didn’t want a man you had to constrain.”
She sniffed.
This time he touched her cheek with his lips, brushing a kiss. “And even if it was your pride, I thank you for not putting me in such a situation.”
