Heart Fortune

“What?” Glyssa knew her eyes rounded.

“He had a great time choosing and buying everything,” Camellia said. “There’s also furniture, the new miniaturized sort that becomes full-sized when activated by a Flair spellword.” Camellia sounded disapproving. But then all three of the friends liked beautifully worked furnishings. “So the chairs and tables, cabinets, et cetera, aren’t very sturdy.” She stepped into the airship to hug Glyssa tightly. “Be safe, and—” Camellia switched to mindspeech. Let me know when you are there and all is fine.

Glyssa hugged her friend back. Doubts spun through her mind and she squashed them. Concentrate on the adventure of it all!

I will, she replied telepathically. Thank the Lady and Lord that mental bonds had no distance limits . . . at least on Celta.

Camellia fixed the harness over Glyssa and the basket holding her new Fam, then placed a huge hamper of food and drink “for the trip” in the spacious area around Glyssa’s feet. As Camellia hopped back down, she narrowed a look at her husband. “You did keep the idea of safety uppermost in your mind, didn’t you, for Glyssa’s tent? Didn’t just choose what was the latest and looked the best?”

He put on an offended expression. “Of course I chose the most secure option.”

“Time to go,” said the pilot.

“Keep in touch!” the Hawthorns said in unison, then grinned at each other in delight, leaned in to kiss, Glyssa’s last sight of them as the airship door thunked shut and the airship rose.

It reassured her that she was doing the absolutely right thing in going after her HeartMate—finding adventure herself.

Septhours later, they landed without a bump at a cleared area the pilot said was designated for airships.

Glyssa and the pilot off-loaded her supplies while most of the people milled around the back end of the airship and storage area, moving the equipment from Nuada’s Sword with great care under the gazes of the Elecampanes.

Suddenly, a shriek came to her ears. “No! Catch that FoxFam!”

Glyssa whirled, her chest constricting, as she saw Lepid heading for a hole in the ground. “Lepid!” she yelled. He didn’t listen.

* * *

Jace had been sauntering to the airship like the others in camp when the woman stepped out of the cockpit. He stared, stunned. Rumor had it that this ship brought brand-new tech for communications over a long distance developed by the sentient starship Nuada’s Sword, in Druida City. And an Important Personage.

He stopped, tucked his thumbs in his belt, and stared as he recognized Glyssa Licorice. The librarian he’d been having sex dreams about. A person who he’d never thought would be caught in the wilds of Celta.

A small animal dashed by him, then a scream came from behind him and he spun in time to see a fluffy foxtail wave as it started down the beam. A young FamFox. Great.

“Lepid!” Glyssa shouted.

Swearing and chanting the best damn spellshields to protect himself that he knew, he bounded toward the girder, running fast enough that he felt his hair lift and the sweat on his scalp dry. He got to the beam angling into the ground just in time to see the small fox stop and look over its back, mouth open and tongue loose in a smile.

“Wait!” Jace yelled.

Five

The fox flipped his tail. Catch me if you can! I looove hiding places, and this smells WONDERFUL. Smells all through the camp!

Which might be why the Elecampane Fams—two cats and a fox—had taken one sniff and never returned. Obviously “wonderful” was in the nose of the sniffer.

Another twitch of the tail and the fox disappeared into the hole. Jace struggled with temptation for a few seconds. Drew up memory to visualize what he’d seen down there the last time. A small clear area with a metal wall in front, a loose rockslide to his left. Solid wall of rock and debris to his right and behind him, though the top of another wall could be seen. At the end, when they’d opened it up and pulled him out, he’d seen sky.

With a last prayer to the Lady and Lord and a final test to his personal spellshields—he didn’t think the fox had any—Jace walked down the beam. No trembling under his weight, a good sign.

When he reached the hole, he sat and scooted downward. “I’m coming.” He kept his voice low, not wanting anything to trigger another landslide.

He was answered by a series of high, excited yips from the fox below. People shouted, words and maybe his name, but nothing he heard clearly. He slid into the hole, the leather of his trous caused him to pick up speed and he nearly lost his balance. “Coming down!” he said just before he tipped off the beam.

He landed with bent knees in the gloom at the bottom of the hole. Blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he saw no sign of the fox.

Scrabbling sounded to his left. “Are you there . . . Lepid?” That was the name Glyssa had screamed.

Rock fell from above, striking him on his left shoulder. He jumped to the side, coughed, put his arms over his face, caught a glimpse of a fox butt wriggling through a hole at the top of the rock.

“Whee!” The fox’s noise accompanied rock sliding on the other side of the left pile. Jace eyed the top where a rectangle of black showed. He could squeeze through it . . . if sufficiently foolhardy.

I see. I SEE, man!

Wiping his arm across his mouth even though he’d try telepathy, Jace pushed a mental comment to the fox. What do you see? He heard scratching and clicking that made him think of dancing paws, then a dash away. . . .

I see storage boxes, I see a hallway. I see more rocks. I see HOLES.

Envy whipped through Jace. “Come back here at once!” He scrambled for a threat. “Or I’ll ensure you have no treats for a month, a long time.”

He sensed the fox pausing, ears cocked. Treats? I will get treats?

Did that mean he hadn’t? Uh-oh.

Jace’s shoulders tensed. I promise. Come back now so you can tell all that you have seen to everyone!

So I can tell all that I have seen to everyone! The fox gave a cheerful chirrup.

Paw sounds running back. Leaps on the other side of the rock– pile.

Rockslide! Yelps of pain!

Jace plunged forward into the scree, taking bruising hits against his body, muscling through, snatching the fox just before a big chunk of metal hit red fur. Jace hunched over, turning his head for breath, while the sound of the fall echoed.

The small, young fox shivered in his arms. You are fast!

“Thanks.” He coughed at the renewed dust in the air, straightened and pivoted back to see the pile was now no more than three-quarters of a meter high. The rest of the rockfall had spread out into a room that held several round-cornered storage boxlike objects. A shelf with several smaller boxes had netting pulled over it and sealed against the wall. He wanted to run and open a box or two and see what was inside.

Not his place, and man, he wished it were. Wished he had enough gilt to convince the Elecampanes to take him on as a partner. Then he’d . . . Stupid. Stup! He didn’t have the means, he was just a worker.

When the dust diminished he noted a corridor leading off the room, a tilted and crumpled sheet of metal bisecting it, some boulders, but also dark space.