Heart Fortune

did. She was tall and willowy, with a pretty face and dark brown hair. Something about her stance, her manner as she scanned the room with a satisfied smile, tipped him off. Camellia Darjeeling D’Hawthorn.

T’Hawthorn, who had his back to the door, stiffened.

In a few strides she was there and sitting with them. Her smile broadened as she saw the remains of their meals. She stared at Jace’s cup and her nostrils widened, then she turned to him and smiled. “Jace Bayrum, in the flesh.”

He raised his brows. “That’s right.”

She offered her hand. He stood so he could bend over it and kiss her fingers, desperately murmuring a Word to clean his breath. “I’m pleased to meet you, GreatLady D’Hawthorn, I know Glyssa treasures your friendship.”

The lady withdrew her fingers. “As I treasure her,” D’Hawthorn said. Jace sat again.

She pulled up a chair and sat, too. “And, Laev, did you think to warn GentleSir Bayrum about hurting Glyssa without telling me?” she asked.

“A gentleman’s understanding,” Jace murmured, thinking it might get the GreatLord in more trouble. T’Hawthorn glowered at him.

“Uh-huh.” D’Hawthorn translocated a pretty china teacup in a pale green and poured the last of the tea from Jace’s pot into it, sipped and stared at Jace with serious eyes. When she put down her cup, she said, “I’m not a gentleman, and I’m not as noble and honorable as Laev here, and I know what it’s like to be poor and scrabble to keep body and soul together, like you. Not all nobles are rich, you know.”

He’d probably known that, if he’d given it some thought.

“My bottom line here with regard to your . . . relationship with Glyssa, is that if you hurt her, I’ll hurt you.” She nodded to the teapot. “Despite your excellent taste in tea. Understood?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, then leaned forward and gave her a flirtatious smile. “But you drank the last cup of my tea, and I wanted it.”

She laughed and more gazes fixed on their table. The waitress hurried over with another pot, no doubt summoned mentally by D’Hawthorn and replaced the old pot with a new one. D’Hawthorn poured more tea into his cup and hers. “I like you. May I call you Jace?” she said.

He wasn’t used to people asking. “Sure.”

“And you can call me Camellia.”

“You can call me Laev,” T’Hawthorn said.

Like hell. That man didn’t mean it.

Camellia glanced at her husband. “Are you done here?”

“Who scried you?”

She grinned. “One of my regular customers came from here to Darjeeling’s HouseHeart to ‘buy some tea’ she couldn’t get here.”

“Nonsense,” Laev said. “You stock all your teas in all your shops and you don’t run out.”

Camellia’s smile softened, and she reached out and touched one of her husband’s steepled hands. “That is true. How well you know me, HeartMate.”

For the first time since they’d met, Jace saw Laev T’Hawthorn transform into a casual man instead of a powerful lord. He linked fingers with his wife, kissed her lips. When they’d parted, T’Hawthorn nodded at Jace. “I have invited him to stay with us.”

“No.” Camellia D’Hawthorn was definite, but her eyes were kind. “He has to stay with Glyssa and the Licorices.” A smile hovered around her mouth. “They are a little . . . intense, but good people. You just have to get to know them.” She blinked. “They always treated me well, no matter how tough times were for me.”

The pressure in Jace’s chest didn’t ease much at that, but hair on the back of his neck that had risen at the thought of spending time with Glyssa’s Family lowered a bit.

“All right,” he said, lying. Naturally he didn’t have much of a choice in this unless he dug up a place to stay himself, a hostel or something. His words came out more sourly than he’d wanted. He stood, took his wallet from his trous and set out the amount of the bill and a good tip.

Camellia stood, took Jace’s gilt and held it out to him. “My place, my treat. I’m taking care of this.”

When he moved to take the papyrus notes, she plucked the wallet out of his other hand, studied it, and nodded. “Very nice. You have talent.”

“Let me see.” T’Hawthorn stood, too.

But because his wallet was an early, uninspired piece of leatherwork, Jace stuck it and the gilt back into his pocket fast. “Thank you.” He gave her a half bow.

She glanced at her timer. “I’m behind schedule.” She kissed her husband. “Later.” She looked at Jace. “We’ll expect you and Glyssa midmorning tomorrow to talk about the novel. Of course there will be food.” Then she aimed her gaze at her husband. “Where do you go now?”

“Nuada’s Sword,” T’Hawthorn said.

The starship!

Twenty-six

When Laev took Jace and Zem to Nuada’s Sword, Zem remained outside in Landing Park.

The one sentient starship wanted to hear every last detail that Jace could remember of its fellow ship, an older ship, Lugh’s Spear—the size of the corridors, the amount of dust in the air, the smell. What components comprised the smell that it could correlate to atmosphere.

Jace spilled everything he knew about inside the ship, commented on the blueprints and the vizes from the expedition, the pics, and the maps drawn up by Del Elecampane. He had an attentive audience in the Ship and Captain Ruis and Dani Eve Elder.

Finally T’Hawthorn put an end to the interrogation, and they walked out into the evening air. Air that wasn’t like Nuada’s Sword, or Lugh’s Spear, and nothing like the camp. Druida City was next to the Great Platte Ocean, and the sea air, with a touch of salt, dried on his lips.

“Jace!” Glyssa called and ran across Landing Park toward him. She looked good, better than anything he’d seen since they’d walked back from the lake. Outrageous the need he felt for her, how his heart thumped when her body met his and his lips took hers and they tasted each other, cradled each other.

Everything else faded until a continued fake coughing brought him back. Yeah, his mind had been totally gone while he was in a strange place, unaware of his surroundings. Not good.

But he couldn’t bear to release his hold on her, even if he only cherished her fingers in his own.

“Can I stop coughing now?” asked Captain Ruis Elder.

“Of course,” Glyssa said.

“Laev T’Hawthorn is taking you home by glider.” The man gestured and Jace peeled his gaze from Glyssa to see another glider, also purple, also streamlined, but able to carry four.

The GreatLord leaned against it, grinning.

Envy and something more like fear moved inside Jace. That man could crush him, make him disappear, do all sorts of things to him and no one would say a thing. No one might ever know. How did people live in the shadow of such power?

Glyssa sighed. “EveningBell has rung. My Family will be awaiting us.”

D’Licorice Residence wasn’t how Jace had imagined. For one thing, it wasn’t in Noble Country where all the oldest Residences were, wasn’t even in any other noble neighborhood, but in a small parklike estate near CityCenter. In fact, the Licorices’ land connected to the grounds of the PublicLibrary. Within walking and scaling- walls-and-spellshields distance, just beyond a thick bank of pines and other trees.

Though he understood it was an intelligent house, a real Residence, it wasn’t large. Not nearly as large as the PublicLibrary itself. Barely three stories, an interesting-looking place, but not palatial or castlelike, like so many nobles preferred.