Heart Quest (5 page)

This had to be the strangest thing he'd ever done in his career—interviewing Familiars. But ever since he'd been assigned to the FirstFamilies six years ago, his life had been one strange experience after another. The worst had been the grychomp incident a year past. Not only had he been petrified, but he wouldn't live down the humiliation of literally being caught with his pants down in this lifetime.

“Winterberry?” D'Ash's voice echoing from the scrystone set in the gate pillar sounded breathless, harassed.

“Yes, GreatLady,” he said soothingly.

“Come in, come in.” She drummed her fingernails on the stone. The greeniron gates opened wide enough for a large man to enter.

He strode up the gliderway and to the great front door of the modern Residence. As he reached the entrance, this door too swung open.

Zanth, T'Ash's tom FamCat, as disreputable as ever, met him.
Come.

Lifting his brows, Ilex followed the tom through the house to a series of rooms dedicated to D'Ash's profession as an animal Healer.
The
animal Healer.

He found her sitting cross-legged on a carpet that had once been beautiful and now appeared stained and ragged. An orange tomcat coughed in her lap. She stroked and praised it, and waited until it was done before looking at Ilex with tear-filled eyes. “Gib Ginger's cat, Rhyz.”

Pampered, cowardly, useless Cat,
Zanth grumbled.
Should live feral Downwind a year or two.
He stalked back the way they'd come, tail high and stiff with disdain.

The cat started coughing again. Winterberry eyed it dubiously, wondering if it would retch on his newly shined boots.

“Shhh.” D'Ash curved herself over her charge. “You are a very strong Cat, a wonderful Kitty, excellent…”

Again they waited for the cat to finish coughing; then D'Ash rose to her feet and offered the limp Fam to Ilex. Bracing himself, he took the orange tom who looked at him with sad green eyes.

“Reassure him,” D'Ash told Ilex. “And I'll get the other two you want.”

The cat was heavier than he looked. Opening his Flair shields, Ilex sensed deep depression from the cat—more, swirling sensations of an experience that had terrorized it. Anger. Helplessness.

“Shhh,” he found himself saying. “You are a valuable per—uh—Cat.” Ilex was good with upset people, and he sent the same calming Flair to the cat. It started coughing again. Wincing, Ilex found a battered and scratched chair and sat, murmuring to the Fam, “You are—wonderful.” Not as wonderful as Vertic. “You
are
strong. And you will be very helpful to me.” The cat looked at him, stopped coughing.

At that moment D'Ash returned carrying a small housefluff—a genetic hybrid of an Earth rabbit and a Celtan mochyn. She was accompanied by a drooping puppy trudging beside her. She waved a hand and the walls throbbed with waves of lulling color, music lilted in quiet rhythms.

“This is Anetha's housefluff and Tern's's dog.”

“Greetyou,” he said. “I didn't know that housefluffs had become sentient enough to be good Fams.”

Pink tinged D'Ash's cheeks. “Only one generation. I've, uh, been breeding them for intelligence, empathy, and Flair.”

Much as the FirstFamilies had bred themselves. But D'Ash had been born a commoner. Ilex nodded. He rubbed the cat he held under the chin as he considered the other Fams. “Still, I have a feeling that this guy will be the most useful to me.” The cat rumbled a rusty purr, barely audible. “Is there somewhere I can…speak…to him privately?”

D'Ash's lips compressed. “If you insist.”

“I think it would be best. Your emotions…”

She gave a watery sniff. “You're right. But Rhyz lost his FamMan just before dawn yesterday, hardly time to grieve—”

“He knows the time Gib died?” Ilex's mind went on alert, though he kept his voice mellow.

“Well, of course, they were bonded.” She cuddled the housefluff in her hands, chose another large chair, and sat, lifting the puppy up beside her thigh. It settled with a small sigh. Nibbling on her lip, she angled her head toward her right. “A couple of rooms down is my informal parlor for clients. Rhyz might be comfortable there.”

Yessss,
Rhyz said mentally.

D'Ash nodded. “Very well then. You can communicate there.” Her brows lowered. “Be very careful of him, guardsman. He's had a terrible shock. His coughing is not a physical, but emotional, illness, due to stress.”

Ilex dipped his head. “I understand.”

“You should speak with the dog here next. None of the Fams wanted to stay with their lost companions' families, so I am finding them new homes. I have a prospective new Fam-Person for the housefluff coming in a septhour.”

Clearing his throat, Ilex said, “One question. Has Rhyz been bathed—”

Rhyz hissed and struggled in Ilex's arms. D'Ash murmured, “Bathe a
cat
?”

“My apologies.
Groomed.
Have you spoken to him about Gi—his experience?”

“No,” she replied stiffly. “I have done no emotional Healing with him yet.”

“Thank you.” Ilex turned the cat in his arms so he could meet its gaze. “I believe we could help each other, Rhyz.”

The cat lashed his tail and looked aside, but didn't protest as Ilex carried him to D'Ash's sitting room.

When the door to that room was closed and locked and Ilex and the cat had settled into a plush armchair, he set the cat on his thighs facing him and spoke to it as he would a human.
It would be best if I could share the memory of the experience with you, Master Rhyz.

“T
he new furniture line you designed for the family is sell
ing well,” Trif said to her cuz Mitchella D'Blackthorn during mid-morning break in the office lounge. She was glad her cuz had dropped by; the morning had stretched long with boring, repetitive tasks, as usual.

“Thank you. The family finally appreciates me.” Mitchella grinned, then turned serious and sent a narrowed look at Trif. “But you are not going to distract me. I've made an appointment with T'Willow for you.”

“The matchmaker?” Trif squeaked. Her hot caff slopped over the rim of her cup and fell on her leg, staining her light blue trous, just missing a snoozing Greyku. Mitchella rose from her chair, hurried over, and recited a cleansing spell, and the cloth dried without staining.

A few minutes before, Mitchella had swept down on the office, every inch a FirstFamily GrandLady, and whisked Trif and Greyku into the small break room.

Trif continued. “But T'Willow is a GreatLord, his services must cost…” Her mind boggled at what they'd cost—probably a decade of her salary.

“It's not a consultation, but an informal meeting, to talk to you about HeartMates and all.” Mitchella patted Trif 's shoulder. “He just ascended to his title, and that means most of the First Families will present him with welcoming gifts.” She smiled coolly. “And see what sort of man he is and whether he'll be a good ally. You can take him a small table fountain I bespelled for him.”

“There must be some other payment for this ‘informal meeting.' And what do you mean, talk to me about Heart-Mates? You're trying another way to dissuade me from going door to door.”

Mitchella sighed. “I don't think that's wise and it's not—” She waved a hand.

“Proper? Have you gone all formal on me?” Trif asked.

“No. It's not—elegant.”

Trif put her cup down with a clink. “I think it shows self confidence and initiative.”

“Your mother worries—no, I won't use manipulative guilt on you.”

Making a face, Trif said, “Then you're the only one. If I lived at home in the Clover Compound, they'd lock me in my room.”

“No, they wouldn't.”

“Maybe not, but one of the uncles would insist on going with me.”

Mitchella wrinkled her nose. “Not good.”

“No.”

“But maybe one of the cuzes…”

“No! I don't need anyone tagging around with me.”

Greyku opened one blue eye.
I will go with my FamWoman,
she sent loudly.

“I heard that!” Mitchella exclaimed. “My Flair has increased slightly since marrying Straif and living in a GrandHouse.” She tickled Greyku on her stomach. “But you aren't much protection for Trif.”

Greyku sat up and lifted her nose.
I can scream very loud.

“She can too. I've already had complaints from the neighbors. Speaking of which, one of them is going to help me with teleporting.”

“Who?” asked Mitchella sharply.

“Ilex Winterberry.”

Mitchella relaxed. “I like Winterberry. I'd forgotten he was living in MidClass Lodge now.” She nibbled on her lip. “I think he's the younger son of a GrandLady. Estranged. Though I don't know how powerful Winterberry's Flair is. Very, I think. He could probably Test and become a GrandLord in his own right—just as you could Test and rise to GraceLady status.”

“Why would I want to?”

“A title has its uses. My shop is so busy I have employees running it now, and I'm booked all next year for decorating projects.”

Trif set Greyku on the floor, stood, and kissed her cuz on the cheek. “Your career is skyrocketing because you're a good decorator.” She looked around the room, which Mitchella had recently refurbished, pale seafoam green walls, comfortable chairs, pretty carpet bespelled against traffic and stains, a small dining table of the Clovers' new line. The lounge was now a place where people liked to eat and gather.

Trif said, “This room is lovely and your house is gorgeous. Everyone wants the designer who renovated T'Blackthorn Residence and restored its glory.”

Mitchella hugged Trif hard. “Thank you.” She held Trif at arm's length and looked at her. “You know I love you and just want you to be safe.”

“Yes.”

“So go see T'Willow. I asked him if anyone's done what you are doing. He didn't know of any instances, and he sounded intrigued. He said that he'd speak with you for a favor from you.”

“A favor! What kind of favor?”

“I don't know. You can deliver the fountain and ask him. I've set the appointment for tomorrow afternoon, a septhour after WorkEnd Bell. Come by my place first, and I'll give you the fountain. The T'Blackthorn glider will transport you and wait to pick you up.”

“The clunky old glider or one of those new models Straif commissioned?”

Mitchella chuckled. “One of the new ones, but not Straif 's two-seater. It was just delivered and he hasn't driven it yet.” She crossed to the window and smoothed a curtain.

“Have you heard when he'll be returning?”

“No.” A shadow passed over her face. She shifted her shoulder. “Our bond is strong, so I know he's not hurt or worse. But that assignment from the Noble Council to track the lost last-of-the-Family Lord Ginseng took him to the eastern wilderness. Straif 's weary and tired.”

Trif curled Greyku on her shoulder and went over and kissed her cuz on the cheek. “You'll be fine.”

After a watery swallow, Mitchella said, “Of course I will. This is just the longest he's been away and the farthest he's gone.” In a lighter tone, she added, “Though that snotty Fam of his might drive me crazy in the meantime.”

With a chuckle, Trif said, “You took the man, you had to take his Fam.”

“If only he'd met me first,” Mitchella murmured, then shrugged, calling attention to the drape of the stylish gown she wore.

Trif stepped back. “Oooh, what a robe!” She reached out and touched the material, silkeen, then shook her head. “Admit it. You like living as a FirstFamilies GrandLady.”

“I love it. Most of all, I love Straif.” Mitchella glowed.

“Then you should understand why I want to find my Heart-Mate.”

Huffing a breath, Mitchella said, “Touché.”

 

I
lex slowly pulled his Flair from deep-examination of the
Fam's sensory impressions of the dawn before. He found himself rocking the cat. He'd been using Flair to calm the young tom and gently massaged him. Blinking, Ilex realized that touch was the best technique when “interrogating” FamCats. He slid his fingers down one of Rhyz's forepaw pads, and the cat hissed and yanked it away, but not before new images flooded Ilex, more detailed than before.

FamMan gone. Dead. Abandoned Me here in this bad place. Dead! Feel full, full, full. So big with Flair—a giant Cat, ten times bigger than Zanth, than hunting Cats. Bigger than the biggest human.

Dimness around Me except for bright spots of flickering light held in human hands. They dip and move and make seeing hard. Lying on a rough cloth that smells like musky-nasty-bad-humans-death. Hair rising, but only a low growl in the throat instead of the loud warning yowl. Light slips down silver coming toward Me. Heart jump! A blade. Bad, bad, bad. The blade stabs forward, slices paw. Whimper in pain. Emptying.

Fear at sound of howling like vicious dogs. Dipping and swaying of the bobbing lights. Horrible man-woman scent. Sweat. Triumph. Bad happiness throbbing from humans. Mean humans laughing not-real-laughter.

Heavy cloth drops over head. Terror! Can't see. Too much smell. Smoke. Spices. Dark comes.

Danith calls, holds out hands, commands. Go to her. Yes. She will care. Yes. Danith. Human-mother. She cradles, sings, comforts. Bad things gone. Bond with Gib gone. Sad.

With a light stroking between Rhyz's ears, Ilex said, “Forget, it is over. Live through the moment and find past memories to cherish. Your loved one circles on the Wheel of Stars, awaiting rebirth.” A standard guardsman patter for those who have lost, but almost wasted on the Fam, since cats were the best creatures at living in the moment that Ilex had ever known. He'd already learned that much from little Greyku. He touched the cat's pad again, and Rhyz hissed and swatted his hand, claws slightly extended.

“That was well done,” Danith D'Ash said, and Ilex looked up to see her watching him from the threshold of the door. “You've effected some emotional Healing for Rhyz. My thanks.”

Ilex lifted and dropped a shoulder. “It was nothing.”

“But you look as if you do it often.”

Raising an eyebrow, Ilex said, “When I first met your Heart-Mate, he was in a killing rage at having his HeartGift stolen. I assure you, being able to summon calming Flair is necessary in my work.”

D'Ash nodded.

“Did you notice this cut on his paw?”

Frowning, D'Ash came over and crouched down, taking Rhyz's foreleg and extending it so she could examine the paw. Rhyz purred. With fear in her eyes, she said, “I Healed this slice. Yesterday after I got him back, and again last night, when I thought I'd been mistaken that I'd taken care of it.” Her fingers brushed the paw and blue light flowed into it, mending the slash.

“Third time's a charm,” Ilex offered, hoping it was true.

D'Ash scowled and took Rhyz. “You can examine the housefluff and puppy now.”

As Ilex rose, he nodded. “Now that I know what I'm looking for, it should be easier on the other Fams. Did they have knife wounds too?”

“Knife wounds!”
She looked horrified.

“T'Ash didn't see the Fam's injury, did he?” That man would have recognized knifework when he saw it.

“No.” She swallowed, petted Rhyz. “The housefluff had a long scratch in her ear. I only Healed it once. The puppy had a puncture in one of his paws. I Healed that one twice.” She shook her head. “Punctures often pick up infection.”

“May I see the housefluff and pup?”

She brought them in and he soothed the Fams, then examined them under D'Ash's watchful eyes. Again, he scented the heavy incense that had lingered on the murder victims. He received impressions of darkness and fear and bad-laughing-howling, nothing more. But he had discovered additional information. There was more than one murderer, not just a killer and accessories, and the incense was unusual. He'd never smelled the combination before, and though he could identify frankincense and myrrh, there was a third elusive scent that could be key to finding the murderers.

When he looked for the knife scars on the puppy and housefluff, he saw no trace. He grunted. “You do good work.”

“Thank you.”

Clearing his throat, he said, “You know I have a fox Fam—”

Her eyes lit, but before she could speak, the door opened and one adult and two children walked in.

GreatLady D'Hazel, the adult, wore a closed expression and stood a little away from GreatLord Vinni T'Vine, who held her youngest child's hand—Avellana, who was five years old. D'Hazel made a half bow, one GreatLady to another. “Please forgive us the
inexcusable
breach of your privacy.
He
”—she exhaled audibly, gestured to the eleven-year-old Vinni—“insisted we enter.”

Vinni grinned audaciously. “And hardly anyone ever disagrees with me when I insist.”

Of course not. He was a prophet. Uncanny.

He looked down at the small Hazel, and his eyes, which Ilex would have sworn to be green-brown, appeared deep blue. They were an odd trio.

“Time to choose your Fam, Avellana,” Vinni said.

Danith squatted and held out the housefluff. “Would you like this soft lady housefluff Fam?”

The housefluff 's pink nose wrinkled, her long ears twitched.

“Pretty,” Avellana declared. She giggled as the puppy raced over and gamboled around her; then her gaze focused on the young tomcat and her eyes lit up. She hurried over to where he'd curled onto a chair, watching them. He rotated his ears. “Mine!” she squealed, stroking him gently.

Vinni T'Vine frowned.

“My FamCat,” Avellana said, grabbing him and letting him dangle down her body. Vinni joined her and put his palms under the Fam's back paws, supporting them. “You hold him like this.” Vinni cupped her hands under Rhyz's paws.

“Are you sure you want Rhyz?” Danith said, nibbling her lip, casting a glance at Ilex.

Rhyz butted his head under Avellana's chin, his purr loud.