Heart Fortune

she and Camellia nagged at Tiana for putting in too many hours at the Temple.

Then her friends were gone and the quiet of the shabby house enveloped her, even as her ears rang with the last of their laughter.

Greetyou, Residence, Glyssa said. She’d said it as they’d walked in, but absently.

Greetyou, Glyssa, SecondLevel Librarian, it replied austerely.

She winced. The Residence wasn’t overly formal in furnishings—bordered on the old and comfortable— though the Family had plenty of gilt. But it reflected its owners and Glyssa had been drilled on courtesy. “I am pleased to be home, Residence.” Even as she said that, she wondered if it were true.

I am pleased to have you back—its tones unbent. It was quite interesting hearing about the excavation of Lugh’s Spear and the encampment.

Of course it had listened, and now it knew everything about how she felt about Jace, and that he was her HeartMate. But it had heard all of the individual Family members’ secrets and rarely told anyone, unless it spoke to her mother, who was discreet as the house.

D’Licorice and T’Licorice already knew your HeartMate was Jace Bayrum.

Glyssa hadn’t thought her father would lose much time winnowing that bit of information out and telling her mother.

I believe their feelings were hurt that you didn’t confide in them. Another wince. She’d been pretty closemouthed within these walls, too, didn’t think the Residence had known. “I’m sorry, and I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. My emotions seemed too huge to talk about, and too chaotic to frame in good words.”

You are forgiven.

“Thank you.”

The Residence said, However, we have found very little information about this Jace Bayrum. We only have some data on the jobs that he took for the merchant guild, and notations about his work at the excavation. We have viewed all the copies of the vizes from that venture.

So they knew what he looked like. “I am exhausted, Residence. Traveling such a distance shouldn’t be so wearying, but it is.”

Go rest now.

“Thank you, Residence.” Impulsively she stroked the molding around her bedroom door. “I love you, Residence.”

I love you, too, Glyssa. Take a nap.”

When she stepped into her bedroom, she noted the Flair glow in her personal safe. The HeartGift she’d made for Jace. She sank onto the bedsponge and stared, recalling the sweaty time of Passage at seventeen. She’d taken a huge piece of Flaired papyrus—two meters square—and folded a large piece of origami for her HeartMate.

In the shape of a hawkcel in flight.

She’d been right not to take the delicate HeartGift to the site. The size of it—seventy-five centimeters— would have dominated any room of her pavilion, especially since a HeartGift always needed to be spellshielded against the lust it engendered.

And she’d have been tempted to give the piece to Jace. Especially after he had a hawkcel Fam. Smiling, she wondered what Zem would make of the thing. She hadn’t tinted it, the origami remained the original beige of the papyrus, but she could . . .

No, not now.

Lady and Lord, it wouldn’t have fit well in Jace’s tent.

Her reunion with her parents wasn’t as easy or joyful as with her friends or the Residence, much more constrained. Nobody mentioned Jace.

She ached for him, more than sex, just for his tender stroking after they’d made love, their spooning together.

Loneliness ate at her, and anger. The wretched man wasn’t ready. After . . . well, a couple of weeks. She’d thought she was good at patience. She was wrong.

* * *

For Jace, that night without Glyssa, missing her, was hideous. And even as his mind ran and ran all the excuses, explanations he’d given her—and they still sounded pretty good—he literally hurt at the distance between them.

It wasn’t only sex. There was a . . . comfort about her that he missed. Comfort. He wouldn’t call it anything more that might frighten him, bind him.

Comfort was precious enough. More than he’d ever gotten from his family, except for a rough rub of his head from his father now and then. More than he’d even wanted from any other lover.

Grimly, Jace filled the next day with work. The starship, Nuada’s Sword, and the Elder Family had included several patterns for the communications arrays. Since Raz and Del had grimly closed off the hole to Lugh’s Spear, it was either digging or moving strange-looking metal things around. Just one design took all of the rest of the day that Glyssa and Lepid left.

Jace supposed he should have been grateful he’d been assigned to the moving team, but he’d awakened grumpy from no sex and no Glyssa in his—or him in her—bed.

Zem preened in the sunlight atop one of the tallest metal tree poles. He helped ensure the pattern was correct. Jace was rolling the muscle strain out of his shoulders when Raz T’Elecampane ambled up to him, a suspicious smile on his face and his thumbs tucked into his belt.

It occurred to Jace that the man had just come from the communications tent. Despite the work, the scry panel continued to function, if not at optimum efficiency.

“What is it?” Jace questioned. “Or should I ask who?” Not Glyssa. He knew she’d arrived safely, and he’d tapped into their link to understand she’d talked a lot to her friends, some to her Family, but mostly slept. Near the end of his day, she’d sent a mental Sweet dreams his way, but nothing else.

Raz’s smile turned sharp. “First Family GreatLord Laev T’Hawthorn.”

Twenty-four

Raz T’Elecampane continued, “I told T’Hawthorn I was taking you away from well-paid work. He’s going to compensate you.” Tucking his hands in his trous pockets, the actor rocked back and forth, heel to toe. “I quoted him fifty gilt a minute.”

Jace’s eyes widened. “Incredible.”

“He agreed, starting from the moment the call came through.”

With a shrug, Jace jogged toward the communications tent. He was on the far end of the field from it.

“I wouldn’t run if I were you,” Raz called, voice full of amusement.

Jace didn’t stop, but thought of what he knew about Laev T’Hawthorn. FirstFamily GreatLord. Exceedingly wealthy. Generations and generations of wealth. Laev’s FatherSire had been the Captain of All the Councils of Celta, the most important man in the world. More than once.

Jace frowned . . . wasn’t there some sort of hint of a curse? Or was that the Holly Family? And the Hawthorns and Hollys had feuded a generation ago, hadn’t they?

He didn’t know much of the man’s background. But T’Hawthorn was the HeartMate of one of Glyssa’s good friends.

Camellia had married Laev earlier this year. Glyssa approved of the marriage—the HeartMate marriage— and liked the guy. He’d funded her trip here.

With strings.