HeartMate Page 8

  The collection box played the short melody announcing a delivery. Danith opened it to stare down on a little bunch of pansies charmingly set in a silver holder.

  Again she hoped they were from Claif. Again the card said "T'Ash." Simply T'Ash, nothing more, not one word why he would send flowers or what he wanted in return. He would want something as payment. The man she saw last night would never do anything without motive or reward.

  She set her chin. She had told him she wasn't interested in his games yesterday evening, and she hadn't changed her mind. He hadn't looked dense. Just exactly what was his game?

  "I'm glad to see you," T'Ash muttered. Bang! He swung his hammer to thin the edges of the main gauche on the anvil. "I'm glad to see you." Bang!

  He stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow with a rag. He'd been practicing the words for his scry call to Danith for half an hour and he still had only one sentence. This was going to be harder than he'd thought.

  He critically examined the blade. It was looking very, very good, and there was power in it, lightly shielded from Tinne Holly, T'Ash hoped. He'd done a fine job in setting the spells for protection and discipline, and would complete the next portion of the ritual Words later.

  The ritual Words! His eyes widened. This last half-hour he'd been concentrating on the dagger edges, not the spells, and chanting his first line to Danith. "I'm glad to see you."

  He touched the hilt. Those words were in the weapon, all right. Damn.

  Then he threw back his head and laughed. The Hollys were such fighters that they were glad to see any challenger, and perhaps T'Ash could work that into the spell.

  He tossed his sweat rag aside and picked up a magic cloth to wipe down the blade, giving it a bit of brilliance-spell at the same time. Now, those were easy Words. Easy to create, easy to remember, not even taking much power or energy. Why was the formula for Danith so awfully important?

  Because she was.

  Zanth loped in. Go to shop now. Make My gift to FamWornan.

  T'Ash glanced at the timer. Zanth was right. T'Ash needed to clean up and open his store, where Tinne Holly would come to check on his new weapon.

  "The shop will be very busy tonight. Three days from now, Mor, is Discovery Day. I'll have many sales. Also, Tinne Holly will be by to have his main gauche attuned. You will have to wait until after that before I can spare time for you."

  Zanth flicked his tail. Me patient.

  That was a lie.

  Will sit in corner velvet chair. Look at toys. Think of perrrfect toy for FamWoman.

  T'Ash was afraid of that. It wasn't that he didn't trust Zanth. He did. He trusted Zanth to be Zanth. Perrrfectly capable of scratching some female customer cooing over him. Perrrfectly capable of spitting at Tinne Holly. Perrrfectly capable of disrupting the shop.

  FamWoman come tonight?

  T'Ash hoped so. She should have gotten the two offerings of flowers by now; perhaps she'd come to thank him. He smiled.

  He wondered if the HeartGift spell had influenced her at all, if she was even slightly enamored of him. If she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Perhaps the HeartGift only needed time to do its job and she was waiting at the store. Nice thought.

  FAMWOMAN COME TONIGHT?

  T'Ash sighed. "Perhaps."

  Me approve. We go. First you dress. Look like Downwind feral.

  "Right. I'll meet you at the shop. Do you want me to take or teleport the pink diamond there?" He hadn't seen the stone since Zanth had glommed onto it.

  My stone. Me take. Zanth rose with dignity and left the forge, crooked tail waving.

  T'Ash glanced at the timer again. He'd have to leave the choosing of an attractive bouquet to the florist. He exhaled with relief.

  Zanth curled and overflowed the small velvet corner chair, watching customers come and go through slitted eyes. T'Ash had to admit that his Fam wasn't calling any attention to himself and was behaving well.

  An hour after the store opened, Tinne Holly entered. He walked with more swagger in his step than his older brother Holm. T'Ash measured the youth. T'Ash had judged correctly, the main gauche should be proportional to the young man's stature.

  Tinne was seventeen and, from the power and Flair emanating from him, more than ready for his second Passage.

  T'Ash shuddered as he remembered his own second Passage. It had been triggered by the young Holm Holly, caught in Downwind during his Passage. Holm had been bouncing erratic energy, Flair, and emotions all over the place. T'Ash first got caught in the tide, then swept into the whirlpool, shooting into a raging inferno of fire and lightning that sundered all his beliefs, large and small. Passion had seared him, passion for living and for vengeance.

  It had ripped him apart emotionally, nearly driven him insane.

  Holly had fought almost every hour. Passage brought deathduels for Hollys. Now the danger menaced Tinne.

  T'Ash continued to study Tinne from under lowered eyelids and suppressed a sigh. The silver-haired youth could not stand still for two microns.

  He prowled the shop, looking at the wares and waiting until T'Ash finished ringing up sales. A mannerly boy.

  He didn't look stupid, and he didn't look as if he would appreciate a weapon imbued with strong disciplinary and protection spells. He might need a little distraction when he tested the main gauche for balance.

  T'Ash wanted no argument with a hotheaded Holly if Tinne discovered spells in the blade.

  Finally the last customer ready to purchase something was served and Holly approached the counter.

  "Greetyou. I'm Tinne Holly, my brother said you wished to see me about a weapon?"

  T'Ash offered his hand. The FirstFamilies were often superficially friendly and quietly cutthroat, but Holm Holly was T'Ash's friend and nothing in Tinne's demeanor said he'd be any less honorable. Less stable, less dependable, less sensible, but equally loyal.

  Tinne's eyes widened and he clasped T'Ash's hand. Wild, hot energy surged up T'Ash's arm. He didn't let the shock show.

  "Your brother commissioned a main gauche for you." T'Ash brought the long dagger from under the counter and handed it over.

  Tinne took it, jerked a little, and squinted down the fuller groove of the blade.

  Distraction needed. "Tell me, Holly. What would you consider a good opening line for a scry to your beloved?" T'Ash asked casually, congratulating himself for combining two purposes at one time. He was diverting Holly from testing the weapon with his Flair, and was getting some masculine advice.

  Tinne shot a surprised gaze at T'Ash, then grinned. Tinne had the Holly charm, in abundance.

  Tinne placed the main gauche carefully on the glass case, but traced the gold wire in the shape of a holly branch along the main gauche's hilt to the smoky-quartz pommel.

  He looked deeply into T'Ash's eyes and lowered his own lashes in a sensual look T'Ash didn't think he'd be able to master in a few short hours.

  "Darling delight," Tinne purred better than Zanth, "did you miss me?"

  T'Ash didn't think that would work for him. "Try something else."

  The young man's smile flashed again, revealing a dimple. Damn but these Hollys had life, and women, easy. Tinne fondled the pommel of the main gauche. "Compliments on eyes or a smile are always good."

  Pleasure filled T'Ash at the thought of Danith. "My lady is beautiful."

  Tinne blinked. "A Lady? You?"

  T'Ash's face froze.

  Tinne took a step back, two, his expression no longer lighthearted. He raised his hands in a placating gesture, then formally bowed his head. "I apologize. You are worthy of any Lady."

  Now T'Ash fiddled with the blade. He noticed customers sidling quietly to the door. With effort he summoned a smile. He nodded in return. "Forgiven."

  Tinne smiled quickly, young and confident enough to be so simply reassured. "My thanks." He looked at the long dagger on the counter. "I would hate to forfeit such a magnificent treasure. Particularly since my brother is paying for it."
/>   "You like the design, then."

  "Perfect."

  "Please, try the balance. And as with all my weapons, it must be attuned to the unique vibratory band of your Flair."

  Looking interested, Tinne approached. He closed his hand over the blade, hefted it.

  Those customers not fascinated by the show again slid toward the door. T'Ash sighed. Majo would be most unhappy if business did not stay steady. Not to mention the fact that T'Ash had his pride. He wanted to show his manager that he was equally adept at sales, even though he'd had to close for most of the day.

  "Come behind the counter. There is space enough here to match the main gauche with your resonance."

  Tinne nodded. With a wave of his hand, T'Ash dissolved the spellshield between the counter and where he stood.

  T'Ash positioned the young man on the grounding mat. "Hold the weapon loosely in your left hand. Gauche means left. The long dagger is meant to complement your blaser or your sword. Stand still. Breathe and clear your mind of all thought."

  Now the customers crowded to watch. T'Ash quietly rang up sales, pleased at the trade. He kept his senses focused on Holly until he felt Tinne had achieved the proper contemplative state.

  When T'Ash looked at Tinne, his heart contracted. The Holly was so young. Had he, himself, ever been that young? Not since he was six. But he remembered Holm Holly, looking very like the youth before him, some twenty years past. Now, beyond the vow of blood and honor T'Ash owed Holm, T'Ash would do his best to let this young man live and mature into a good man.

  After a quick glance around the store to ensure no one needed help, T'Ash went over to stand before Tinne, cupped one hand over Tinne's right shoulder, and curved his other hand around Tinne's left one, clasping the weapon. T'Ash matched his breathing to Tinne's and felt the waves of Flair between Tinne and himself and between Tinne and the blade.

  T'Ash increased the cadence and shortened the waves of his own energy, to raise and empower Tinne's.

  A mental touch.

  A Flair twist.

  Done. The blade was tuned to the young Holly.

  T'Ash stepped back, glad the sweat on his scalp was being absorbed by his hair, and not flaunted for all who watched.

  He studied Tinne's relaxed stance: balanced, but still ready to act, a natural fighter, just like all his Family.

  "On guard, quatre!" T'Ash commanded.

  Tinne snapped into the fencing stance.

  "Parry."

  The blade angled.

  "Riposte."

  Tinne thrust, still with eyes closed.

  "Good. The weapon looks well-balanced for your use."

  Tinne opened his eyes and grinned, holding the long dagger tightly. "Oh, it is, I assure you. I've never had one so perfect. I usually carry a castoff. Now I have a weapon crafted just for me!" His exultant tones reminded T'Ash that there could be no better gift for a Holly. It was as if T'Ash had found a rare peridot brought long ago from Earth. The peridot was the designated stone for the Ash Family…

  T'Ash nodded shortly. "I guessed at your build, but the blade should still fit when you reach your full growth."

  "Nice."

  "Thank you."

  "I suppose I couldn't take it with me now?"

  "It needs some finishing touches." And even more magical reinforcement.

  Tinne looked at it and shook his head. "I can't see that. But Holm always said you were a perfectionist." Reluctantly he handed the main gauche over to T'Ash.

  Tinne placed right palm over his heart and bowed formally to T'Ash, not lowering his eyes. "I thank you. Both for the utility and the beauty of the weapon. It suits me."

  "You are welcome. The main gauche will be finished the day after tomorrow."

  Pleasure lit the young man's eyes. "So soon? This Ioho, Discovery Day eve? Superb." With a lilting laugh he vaulted over the counter and tipped a hand in T'Ash's direction as he walked to the door.

  "Come to my estate to receive it," T'Ash said.

  Tinne nodded.

  Before he could leave, Zanth jumped down from the chair and went to sniff at Tinne. T'Ash wasn't deceived, the Fam's body was tense, ready to claw if threatened.

  "Greetyou." Tinne smiled down at the Fam, then actually squatted beside the large cat.

  T'Ash noticed with approval that Holly kept his knees together, protecting what a man prized most even from a cat. Though Zanth would never be taken by anyone to be just a common cat. His size, if nothing else, ensured that.

  "My Fam, Zanthoxyl," T'Ash said.

  "Rrrow." Acceptable boy. I like. Smells really, really, REALLY good.

  Tinne quirked a brow. "Fam? Telepathic to you?"

  "Very."

  Tinne studied Zanth's unpreposing appearance and grinned. He scratched Zanth's head. "Nice size. I have a Fam of my own, also a cat."

  Truth.

  "Salesclerk. Salesclerk!" called an obnoxious female voice.

  T'Ash and Tinne stood. Anger darkened the young man's eyes.

  "Salesclerk, I want you now." A heavy woman puffed to the counter with several shopping bags.

  "I come," T'Ash said.

  "Doesn't she know—"

  "Go," T'Ash ordered.

  "Salesclerk! I was told this was an exclusive shop—"

  "She shouldn't treat you—"

  "She shouldn't treat anyone that way. Go." T'Ash sent a gentle nudge of energy to Tinne. The young man scowled, but left the store.

  T'Ash strolled back behind the counter. He held himself straight and kept his face impassive, but his presence was enough to have the woman's mouth opening and closing like a fish.

  She shoved a small silver charm in the shape of a spaceship to him.

  T'Ash didn't touch it. He didn't like her negative energy, and the last two draining days left him extremely sensitive. He took some colored softleaves and wrapped the token, pushed it across the counter, teleported the woman's money into the till, and exhaled in relief when she left the store.

  Nasty thing, Zanth said.

  "Yes."

  Looked at toys. Come. Zanth sauntered over to a case and rubbed his nose against it, leaving a smear.

  T'Ash winced.

  This one. Make My gift like this.

  T'Ash knew it. Nothing simple for Zanth. Chains of silver descended in loops for three inches, finally suspending a white diamond from a twisted strand.

  "Silver?" T'Ash hoped.

  Glisten.

  "Glisten is difficult to work with, especially in thin twists like this."

  You best. He put a paw against the glass and tapped it with extended claws.

  "All right. For the T'Blackthorn fountain lambenthyst."

  Yes.

  "But it will have to wait a while, a week or two."

  When you do HeartGift?

  "Tomorrow evening."

  Do then.

  "I think," T'Ash said carefully, "that Fams can experience Passage also. If you want me to ask Lady D'Ivy for some herbs—"

  Two weeks fine. Me in your other Passages enough. Zanth crossed to the door.

  "I'm touched."

  Zanth sniffed.

  No doubt about it, Zanth's sniff didn't sound the same, hardly punctuation at all.

  FamWoman not come.

  "No." She must have received the flowers by now. Soon he could make his first scry call. Anticipation tinged with anxiety climbed up his spine.

  Me go see.

  "As you please." T'Ash opened the door politely and his Fam slipped out.

  Sewer rats await. Life is good.

  There was a lull in shoppers around dinnertime, and T'Ash resolved to scry Danith. He started forming the image in his head, then changed his mind. Perhaps one more call to the florist.

  "This is T'Ash."

  The man on the other end of the viz bowed. "Greetyou, GreatLord. How can I be of service?"

  "Have my flowers been delivered?"

  The man clasped his hands and smiled. "Oh, yes, Great-Lord. A single white-b
lush rose, a posy of pansies. Now, you left the composition of the bouquet to us—"

  "Yes."

  "And we sent a mixture of seasonal blooms—"

  "Did they smell?"

  The man blinked. "Ah—"

  "They smelled good?"

  The florist smiled. "I assure you they were most fragrant."

  "Fine." Now what came after bouquets? T'Ash thought for an instant. A small arrangement in an elegant vessel. He still didn't know what an elegant vessel was. T'Ash studied the florist. No doubt the florist would know. But time was wasting, and T'Ash decided not to send some piddling little thing.

  "I want a large arrangement. Your best. Huge. Fancy. Immediately."

  The florist gaped. "Now?"

  "Within the half-septhour." T'Ash would call her after she'd been impressed with it.

  "GreatLord, surely." He swallowed. "Something of a unique, elegant nature takes time. You are an artist yourself—"

  T'Ash scowled.

  The florist stepped back from the bowl until he looked small. T'Ash looked beyond the man's puce face, his straining waistcoat embroidered in gold, to something else…

  "What's that thing behind you?" T'Ash asked.

  The man turned. "Oh, it's an arrangement—"

  "It looks to be about a meter tall."

  The florist twitched his lips in a smile. "Yes."

  "I like it. Big round blue flowers, little white starblossoms, and that green stuff."

  "A Discovery Day motif—"

  "Send it to her."

  The man started. "GreatLord. It is a banquet arrangement, hardly approp—"

  "Does it smell?"

  The man drew himself up. "The Guild of Airship Technicians didn't request—"

  "Stick some roses in it. Maybe a pansy or two."

  "GreatLord—"

  "And deliver it within the septhour."

  The florist compressed his lips. "I'm afraid our ground transportation is otherwise occupi—"

  "Teleport it to her collection box—No, too big." But Danith's scry image included a table. "Teleport it to the scry locale, a few inches away from her bowl."

  "GreatLord, my most abject apologies, but we do not have someone with such Flair available—"

  T'Ash drummed his fingers on the glass counter. "I'll scry back in fifteen minutes. You should have it looking and smelling fine by then. You can give me your coordinates and I'll handle the transport from here." Not wanting to give the open-mouthed man any chance to disagree, T'Ash cut the scryspell.