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Authors: Robin D. Owens
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Mugwort.”
“It’s quite understandable that you didn’t know us. We don’t move in the same circles as you,” Tiana Mugwort, Artemisia’s sister, said.
“And Tiana isn’t a GraceMistrys. She’s a priestess,” said GrandMistrys Licorice.
“Ah, my apologies.”
High instrumental shrieks pierced the air.
“Finally, the band has arrived, please excuse me,” Kelp said. He dumped Brazos in Laev’s arms. The cat sprang to the floor and began prowling, lost in the shadows.
Kelp rushed toward the corner that held a platform framed in seaweed.
GrandMistrys Licorice looked down at her cup and made a face. “Kelp doesn’t have the style of his late mother or his elder sister. This party is going downhill. Maybe we should skip it next year.” She turned her gaze on Laev, and he saw gleaming, insatiable curiosity in her eyes. “Did you bring something from T’Hawthorn Residence?”
Darjeeling answered, “Yes, he did.” She set her wiggling FamCat down. The calico followed Brazos. “T’Hawthorn brought a large china vase. It was snapped up in under three minutes.”
Priestess Mugwort chuckled. “Leave it to you to notice any china.”
“If you will excuse us?” Licorice said, and all three of the women curtsied again.
“Merry meet.” Laev gave the first line of the farewell blessing.
“And merry part,” the ladies chorused.
“And merry meet again,” he said, not meaning it, and knowing their nods were polite falsities, too. They faded away gracefully and he took a few paces back. Once they were across the room, Glyssa pointed to something and they converged on the counter and became animated.
Laev discreetly rubbed his temples. The band was loud and the music off-key. Looked like everyone who was coming was here, so he made one more circuit of the room. Again nothing resonated of Family, so he said his good-byes to Kelp and called Brazos mentally.
The black cat appeared just as Laev was about to step onto the teleportation pad and leave him. He had layers of dust graying his fur. His mouth was slightly open as he held something in it. I have found something that smells of Our Residence and Us!
Laev swept the cat up into his arms and stepped onto the teleportation pad. A moment later he was home in the MasterSuite bedroom and the spell-lights made the rich colors in the chamber glow.
“What is it?” he demanded.
Brazos pranced along the top of the bedsponge, set in an antique platform instead of on the floor.
“Brazos!”
With a sniff, the cat came over to Laev, opened his mouth, and spit out a miniature golden acorn. Laev’s mouth dried and his heart pounded. The acorn had been attached to the base of his HeartGift sculpture of the Lady and Lord dancing.
No one other than himself would have noticed it. Not Nivea, to whom his HeartGift was a minor thing, meaning little after she’d wed him and accomplished her goals. No one would have considered the acorn something to put on the exchange table. “Where did you get this?”
Brazos sneezed. Not easy to find. I am a Very Intelligent Cat.
Laev stroked his hand down Brazos’s back, uncaring of the dust that clung to his fingers. “Yes, you are.”
It was in a corner.
Easily overlooked. “Was anything else there?”
Dead bug, crumbled when I touched. Piece of ribbon, slip of papyrus—
“Oh.” Well, he hadn’t truly expected to find his HeartGift there. Would have been appalled if he had. Was appalled that Nivea might have taken it to the Salvage Ball from anger or spite or malice . . . or all three.
But he’d made the HeartGift during his Passage, and he’d followed his instincts, even during the fever sweats and the working-in-a-dream. He’d shielded his sculpture so that only he or his HeartMate could see it well, sense what it was. If Nivea had left it on the Salvage table, it would have been overlooked.
He’d been informed when he’d teleported into the party with the vase that if no one took his Salvage away, he
“It’s quite understandable that you didn’t know us. We don’t move in the same circles as you,” Tiana Mugwort, Artemisia’s sister, said.
“And Tiana isn’t a GraceMistrys. She’s a priestess,” said GrandMistrys Licorice.
“Ah, my apologies.”
High instrumental shrieks pierced the air.
“Finally, the band has arrived, please excuse me,” Kelp said. He dumped Brazos in Laev’s arms. The cat sprang to the floor and began prowling, lost in the shadows.
Kelp rushed toward the corner that held a platform framed in seaweed.
GrandMistrys Licorice looked down at her cup and made a face. “Kelp doesn’t have the style of his late mother or his elder sister. This party is going downhill. Maybe we should skip it next year.” She turned her gaze on Laev, and he saw gleaming, insatiable curiosity in her eyes. “Did you bring something from T’Hawthorn Residence?”
Darjeeling answered, “Yes, he did.” She set her wiggling FamCat down. The calico followed Brazos. “T’Hawthorn brought a large china vase. It was snapped up in under three minutes.”
Priestess Mugwort chuckled. “Leave it to you to notice any china.”
“If you will excuse us?” Licorice said, and all three of the women curtsied again.
“Merry meet.” Laev gave the first line of the farewell blessing.
“And merry part,” the ladies chorused.
“And merry meet again,” he said, not meaning it, and knowing their nods were polite falsities, too. They faded away gracefully and he took a few paces back. Once they were across the room, Glyssa pointed to something and they converged on the counter and became animated.
Laev discreetly rubbed his temples. The band was loud and the music off-key. Looked like everyone who was coming was here, so he made one more circuit of the room. Again nothing resonated of Family, so he said his good-byes to Kelp and called Brazos mentally.
The black cat appeared just as Laev was about to step onto the teleportation pad and leave him. He had layers of dust graying his fur. His mouth was slightly open as he held something in it. I have found something that smells of Our Residence and Us!
Laev swept the cat up into his arms and stepped onto the teleportation pad. A moment later he was home in the MasterSuite bedroom and the spell-lights made the rich colors in the chamber glow.
“What is it?” he demanded.
Brazos pranced along the top of the bedsponge, set in an antique platform instead of on the floor.
“Brazos!”
With a sniff, the cat came over to Laev, opened his mouth, and spit out a miniature golden acorn. Laev’s mouth dried and his heart pounded. The acorn had been attached to the base of his HeartGift sculpture of the Lady and Lord dancing.
No one other than himself would have noticed it. Not Nivea, to whom his HeartGift was a minor thing, meaning little after she’d wed him and accomplished her goals. No one would have considered the acorn something to put on the exchange table. “Where did you get this?”
Brazos sneezed. Not easy to find. I am a Very Intelligent Cat.
Laev stroked his hand down Brazos’s back, uncaring of the dust that clung to his fingers. “Yes, you are.”
It was in a corner.
Easily overlooked. “Was anything else there?”
Dead bug, crumbled when I touched. Piece of ribbon, slip of papyrus—
“Oh.” Well, he hadn’t truly expected to find his HeartGift there. Would have been appalled if he had. Was appalled that Nivea might have taken it to the Salvage Ball from anger or spite or malice . . . or all three.
But he’d made the HeartGift during his Passage, and he’d followed his instincts, even during the fever sweats and the working-in-a-dream. He’d shielded his sculpture so that only he or his HeartMate could see it well, sense what it was. If Nivea had left it on the Salvage table, it would have been overlooked.
He’d been informed when he’d teleported into the party with the vase that if no one took his Salvage away, he
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