Heart Fire (Celta Book 13) Read online

  Chimes sounded.

  “I have visitors!” TQ trilled. “Come to see you and me!”

  Tiana heard the rapid thumps of Felonerb running, saw a streak of brown-gray through the open door as he shot down the hallway.

  Fifteen

  Antenn had sloughed off T’Equisetum’s words. Mostly. A few had gotten under his skin and dug in . . . or maybe they’d traveled to his brain and took up space in the back of his mind. In any event, he had a cathedral to build. The notion just plain thrilled him.

  He stopped in his office to change from his professional tunic and trous to work leathers. Sturdier clothes in which to supervise the digging of the deep foundation trenches. Glancing at the timer, he saw he could just make the small, private, and sacred ceremony the Chief Ministers planned for the groundbreaking.

  Like Tiana Mugwort’s mother, a spouse of one of the Excavation Earth Mages belonged to the Intersection of Hope Church. The Excavation Earth Mage and her sisters had given Antenn and the Chief Ministers a good deal on the trench digging. They would handle the excavation only.

  The ministers used people connected to them if at all possible, and others who fit into their budget. Unfortunately that did not include the best in spellshielding, a FirstFamily woman. But with a ritual composed of many, the shields should be plenty strong.

  Even though Antenn had worked with these mages before, he needed to be there to supervise. No one in his lifetime had undertaken such a massive project.

  And from now on, he’d have to walk the site every day to keep the detail in his mind for teleportation purposes . . . and he needed to set up teleportation areas complete with signals and a glider parking lot.

  At the last minute, he thought of T’Equisetum’s sneer and Vinni’s warning and belted on his sword and blazer.

  * * *

  Being at the Turquoise House was too distracting: too many people came and went, just checking up on Tiana or checking out the House itself.

  Then the Sandalwoods had shown up, and Tiana had accompanied them around the House as TQ gave them a tour loaded with attention and detail and added the outside back grassyard and garden.

  Meanwhile the minutes until the deadline for her to present the new ritual to the Chief Ministers ticked off in her mind, the time waning ever scarcer.

  MidAfternoon Bell rolled around, and the steady stream of visitors continued . . . priests and priestesses, friends, who’d heard of the cathedral and the upcoming ritual, and the Turquoise House—who’d apparently been very exclusive the last couple of years. And the inner pressure of hard important creative work instead of interacting-with-people work scraped on Tiana’s nerves.

  As soon as she was between visitors, she closed the House and, apologizing to it for her desertion for the rest of the day but promising to make it up to the youngster later and that she’d be back early the next morning, she left for BalmHeal Residence.

  The rest of the day and past dinnertime, she studied reports, old and new, regarding the Intersection of Hope religion, and the materials TQ had given her. She’d reviewed her own notes on the rituals she’d done for her mother over the years—fewer than she’d recalled.

  Sitting at her desk, she massaged her scalp to hopefully stimulate her brain. What she really, truly needed to do was to find the absolute kernel of commonality between the two religions, a spiritual basis shared by them both.

  Kindness, compassion, and love for their fellow beings as all progressed on their lives’ journeys.

  Simple might be best. And simple and inclusive . . . and here she was thinking inclusive again . . . might not work for the Chief Ministers. Her mother was a Healer and loved her HeartMate and children, who followed the traditional Celtic religious path . . . so Tiana’s mother probably accepted flexibility in her rituals where the ministers would not.

  Tiana scrapped another idea. She stood and stretched and paced her small sitting room. She’d have liked to go down the stairs and walk into the night, but that would arouse the Residence, who preferred everyone inside his walls once dark fell. The estate attracted the desperate, allowed afflicted beings inside for sanctuary, but nothing in the spellshields prevented the evil or insane.

  True, the evil and the insane didn’t often remain that way . . . the sanctuary gave them surcease from their pain and they Healed. Or they died. Or they left. But the Residence guarded his people jealously. Another of the reasons why her parents had remained inside the estate . . . to soothe the first Residence that had become sentient on Celta . . . and then had been abandoned.

  BalmHeal Residence liked having people who didn’t leave the estate to work in Druida City as Tiana and Artemisia and Garrett did.

  So Tiana was stuck inside, though the fresh cold air outside of winter turning into spring would refresh her. Her sitting room was too small for pacing.

  After the last couple of days, she didn’t dare teleport outside the walls or outside the estate. Lately, she’d needed all her energy, physical, spiritual, and Flair, to just get through her workday.

  Finally she threw out everything she had and decided against a circle. She liked the circle work, being connected with others, feeling the variety of others’ energy, Flair, personality flowing around her, through her . . . But that was not the way of the Intersection of Hope folk until the very last of their ceremony.

  Those who could not set aside their own preferences and prejudices to take part in a spiritual experience—even if it was a decidedly different spiritual experience—did not need to attend. She began to draft explanations to her fellow priests and priestesses as she worked on the ritual.

  In an Intersection of Hope ceremony, one chose an end of the arm of the cross from which to enter the sacred space—as the childlike self, the guardian spirit, the adult full of vitality, or the very mature and accepting person. Of the four of her Family, when they’d taken on the aspects, Tiana had always written herself in as the guardian spirit and had planned on being part of that line of celebrants in this ritual. Perhaps, with the recent experience of her interviews with the High Priest and Priestess, it was time to reconsider.

  Going to the meditation corner of her sitting room, she folded into a seated position, let her shoulders drop and stress flow from her into the floor, and closed her eyes. Just as she whiffed something odd, a bony cat hopped onto her lap and began a rough and rusty purr.

  She smiled. “Felonerb,” she whispered.

  I am here. He sniffed, and it wasn’t as lush and wet as that morning. She petted his knobby spine.

  We will fatten you up, she sent telepathically.

  His purr increased and she relaxed further.

  I ate much today. Regular meals!

  He sounded thrilled, and her heart simply squeezed with the aching at what he’d already suffered.

  He nudged her hand with his head. That is all over. I have found My forever home.

  “Absolutely,” she murmured.

  Another sniff. Your Dam and the grumpy old House made me sit in a spot and blew smoke over me.

  Probably to clean him and make him smell better. Since her mother hadn’t said anything at dinner about having to clean up his vomit, they’d all been spared that. Tiana said, “Smoke is better than a wet bath.”

  A series of sniffs. Yes. And I saw Gwydion Ash! And he saw Me! And looked Me all over and petted Me and tickled Me inside and out and We played and I felt warm and hot, and then fine, Fine, FINE! Felonerb’s lashing tail thwacked her. Sounded as if he’d needed Healing and had received it. Tiana breathed a prayer of thanks to the Lady and Lord.

  Then I joined you. It was a good day. A pause of a heartbeat. Are We going to sit here long?

  She chuckled, felt the simple joy throughout her body. “No. I have to talk to my mother.”

  A rumble sounded in his throat as he hopped off her lap and onto the bedsponge. There he curled up and draped his tail over his nose, sniffed again in a disgusted manner, and muttered, She SMOKED Me. I do not want to see her again
soon.

  Tiana laughed. “All right.” She went to her desk and swept up the three simple rituals she’d drafted. None of them had triggered her Flair, as often happened when she created. So they were far from perfect.

  But if she worked with her mother, she’d find which was the best, and anything that might alienate the Chief Ministers.

  Tiana did know that when all four lines of celebrants met in the center of the space, they formed a square and connected with each other by holding specially consecrated rope ties they wore as belts. That time would be nearly the same as a circle in her own religion . . . and the moment that they’d use Flair to raise the spellshields. She needed to ask her mother’s opinion on chants and incenses.

  Tiana wasn’t sure how long it would be until the ritual was scheduled but thought it would have to be within a few days. The sooner she had copies of the chants to distribute to the High Priestess and the High Priest so they could study their parts, the better.

  She walked down the stairs and to the conservatory where her parents were sitting together in the dark before they went to bed, as was their custom. Her father saw Tiana and rose and stretched, lifted his HeartMate’s hand, and kissed her fingers. “Later, beloved.”

  Tiana’s mother’s smile was soft. “Later.”

  With a wave of her hand, Tiana set a spellglobe over the table in the middle of the room. She breathed deeply of the humid, plant-rich air, paused to listen to the trickle of a tiny fountain, and settled into real peace that had escaped her for most of the day.

  Her mother kissed her cheek and drew out a rough wooden chair that matched the table, and Tiana did the same, sitting on a bright red cushion.

  “What do you have, dear?” Quina asked.

  Tiana sat and gave her mother the rituals she’d worked so hard on.

  Quina Mugwort read the three rituals in detail, frowned, and made Tiana stand and act them out. With a wave of her fingers, Quina translocated several small real papyrus books. A couple of them Tiana had seen before . . . an antique one she and her Family had purchased for her mother’s Nameday. Chants and spells.

  Then came a long silence as Tiana’s mother stared in her general direction but with her eyes focused on a vision in her head or something more distant. After a moment she shook herself, then met Tiana’s gaze. “You know the words and the prayers, my darling, but you don’t feel it, don’t have the spirit in your heart.” She put her hand between her full breasts.

  Tiana nodded. “No, I wouldn’t. I believe in something else.” She lifted her arms, centered herself, closed her eyes, and called to her Goddess. Felt her spirit rise to meet that Female Essence that flowed and enveloped her, enriched her life, touched her mind with wisdom more than Tiana could comprehend. A tang of duality slipped through her, too, the touch of the more aggressive male energy, that called out to that small bit she carried within. She stayed in the refreshing state of bliss for an eternal instant, then exhaled a long breath as the Lady left.

  When she opened her eyes, she saw silent tears sliding down her mother’s face.

  “That was beautiful. And special. And I am proud and happy for you in your faith,” said Quina, her voice clogged. “But it is not my faith.”

  “No. But I love you and your faith, and the joy you have in the journey of your spirit,” Tiana said.

  Her mother banished her tears, swallowed, and tapped her forefinger on one of the rituals. “This one is the best.” She laid her hand atop the books and smiled with that joy that was one of her essential characteristics. “I think if we stick to some of the very first chants and spells that were written, the Chief Ministers would be surprised and pleased. I don’t believe some of these have been used in centuries, perhaps not even after we landed here on Celta.” She lifted her chin. “They’ll be impressed, too, with my wonderful daughter.”

  “With the ritual mother and daughter make,” Tiana said.

  “Yes.” Another gesture and a carafe that smelled of hot, black, potent caff appeared on the table, along with a couple of green, herbal pills. Tiana knew what that meant. “We’re going to be here for a while.”

  “Yes.”

  A couple of septhours later, when her mother finished with her additions, Tiana took a clean piece of papyrus and began writing the first part of the ritual for the childlike self, as those choosing that godhead processed through the arm of the cross that would be dedicated to that portion of the journey that the Intersection of Hope praised.

  Her Flair sparked and the words flowed, and she could see the ritual, the rising of crescent twinmoons blinking white and streaming light over the black horizon beyond the plateau.

  Chanting came in the rhythm and the beat she now wrote to, voices singing and praying and lifting bass to soprano in the song she penned. She smelled the incense she’d recommended for the ritual, the drifting fragrance of sage and sweetgrass, the light perfume of violet, the darker note of cedar. She walked in a line—not a circle this time—with bodies before and behind her. This was not a true foreseeing of the event, but a total immersion that seemed real. That was what she told herself and others.

  The procession of those celebrating the childlike self met and flowed, intersected with the other three lines, strode on and spread out. They stood close to the low jutting walls outlining the cathedral. Night had fallen with a gauzy haze over the night sky that let only the most brilliant stars shine through. The mass of voices fell silent and Chief Minister Younger spoke the spell she wrote . . .

  As always she lost herself in the vision as she worked, lost track of time, only knew the experience of the ceremony.

  She came to herself, dizzy yet buzzed with creative delight, when her mother touched her arm and quick static electricity snapped between them. Tiana’s brain settled and she blinked at her mother.

  “It’s done,” Quina Mugwort said softly. She gestured to the sheets of papyrus before them on the table. “You’ve written all four parts and the spellshield. Put the writestick down now, Tiana, love.”

  Without waiting for an answer or movement, Tiana’s mother plucked the writestick from Tiana’s fingers. Shaking her head, Quina said, “Your Flair always amazes me, and I can see this fulfills you. I don’t know why you’d want to do anything else.”

  “Like be the High Priestess of Celta?” she said lightly, and found her mouth had stretched in a strange smile.

  “Like that.” Quina stood. “I’m going to get you a drink with cocoa so you’ll sleep well and deeply for the short amount of time you have.”

  “I’d rather have a cocoa square.”

  “No. Go up to bed.” But Tiana’s mother stroked the papyrus. “Even your writing is beautiful when you do this, so easy to read.” She met Tiana’s eyes. “It will be a very special ritual. I’m proud of you.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “No, it wouldn’t have been right without me, but that is because I am a member of the Intersection of Hope and believe in the journey.” She leaned down and kissed Tiana’s forehead. “For your own faith, your rituals are deep and true.”

  * * *

  The day had been crammed with events. Almost enough to distract Antenn from the kiss he’d shared with FirstLevel Priestess Tiana Mugwort. A priestess. The kiss itself hadn’t been too carnal, but the effect on him had been. He’d barely gotten his body under control and his mind nailed to the project by the time he’d had to stand in front of a bunch of newssheets people and explain the cathedral. Then the others—the religious folk—had done a little group telepathy and decided that talking was less exciting than showing, and he’d been front and center with models of the structure. He’d had to do some quick translocation and it was a damn good thing that the briefing took place a few doors down from his office.

  There’d been a lot of interest and questions since nothing like the cathedral had ever been built on Celta. He’d done a little spiel about old Earth.

  In the end, everyone had seemed satisfied and the C
hief Ministers had formally accepted his bid and signed the contract. The only anxiety he’d felt with regard to the project was from Tiana.

  Antenn returned home to T’Blackthorn Residence late in the evening after the free melee at The Green Knight Fencing and Fighting Salon among his age group. For some reason—no, he was not thinking about the sexy priestess—he had a lot of energy to burn off. And after the fighting, he’d treated his friends to a round of drinks at a social club. While he discreetly rambled about the cathedral, he watched his friends—most of them Nobles. Even the Clovers who’d been commoners like him when they’d met were now Nobles.

  None of them seemed like they’d have a problem with the Intersection of Hope building a large place of worship. Vinni T’Vine said nothing about security or threat. Relieved, Antenn took his business glider home, letting the vehicle proceed on automatic as he relaxed and muttered some minor pain spells that would ease the aches of being thrown around the floor of the fighting salon. He’d managed to be one of the last five to go down, a personal best.

  Good day and evening all around.

  He entered T’Blackthorn Residence by the door on the end of one wing. As the oldest and first child adopted by Mitchella and Straif, he got the preferred rooms closest to an outside exit. His suite itself was a little cramped and consisted only of a small bedroom and sitting room and a tiny waterfall room.

  The minute he opened the door to his rooms, he saw his father on the stool by the drafting table looking at the holos of the cathedral.

  Sixteen

  Antenn’s stomach knotted, even as he knew he hadn’t done anything that would have disappointed his parents and resulted in some fliggering father-son chat. Though he reckoned he’d never grow too old for that, and what a damn shame.

  “Helluva project you’ve got here.” Straif swiveled on the stool to face Antenn. “I heard congratulations are in order.”

  Antenn let his shoulders sag a bit. “Yeah. Got the approval and contract today. Started the excavation mages on it.”