Part 21 (1/2)

Once in, she bowed again at the huge sculpture of a square cross edged in gold and filled with mosaic and grouted in gold in the center of the chapel.

Again she let her breath filter from her as she soaked up the peace. There was the lingering scent of incense, but no pylora”the type that had played such a large role in the Black Magic Cult murders and was found in their home. As if most other n.o.bles, cross-folk or not, didnat have pylor incense. The sticks and cones had been standard once. No more.

There were four large square windows set high in the walls, all stained gla.s.s and showing a child to aged man in a boat on a journey. The rich colors always made her catch her breath. Right now the sun was illuminating the man-in-his-primeas terror as the boat rushed to the waterfall.

No, she wouldnat feel that, the uneasiness that had settled along her nerves. Another big breath, and it was good to recall that everyone in this voyage of life had terrible times. Life was not smooth . . . though she also wished that she was in a round Celtan Temple that suited her more than this chapel. But shead wanted to check out the knife on the altar.

So she walked up to the draped rectangular table and studied the implements set upon it. Celtan altars usually had two knives, a blunt one for use spiritually and a sharp one used for cutting candles, tr.i.m.m.i.n.g wicks, and any other sort of necessary mundane actions. The cross-folk used only one knife for everything.

Artemisia stared a moment before she recalled the knife was part of one of the four equal-armed square crosses. Three of the crosses were solid, but when she peered closely at the second on the left, she could see a joint where one arm of the cross could be removed to reveal a blade. The opposite arm would be the hilt, and the other two arms perpendicular, like a rough hand guard. This was made of rounded dowel-like wood with Celtic knot carving.

Staring at it and comparing it to the knife shead left outside the chapel, she understood something else.

There was a sheath for the murder knife that would match the other arms of the cross.

It was missing, but when it was found, it would point to the murderer.

Garrett walked, with Rusby on his shoulder, from his apartment in MidCla.s.s Lodge to his office. He half listened to the kittenas mental chatter-comments on the world around them.

Head made things worse with Artemisia. Now head have to work hard to insert himself into her life.

He recalled intimately how her body fit his, how their hearts pulsed together when they made love. No way head forget that. It was ingrained in every molecule of his being, and particularly settled in his c.o.c.k. d.a.m.ned hard to ignore.

Unwillingly, he stopped in front of a jewelry shop that had a display of marriage armbands. He liked the glisten metal ones that were s.h.i.+ny and shot off rainbow-colored light. They also had a subtle and intricate engraving of lines that flowed into each other in a never-ending pattern, symbolizing the HeartMate bond. And each band had a ring of small cabochon emeralds, the color of Artemisiaas eyes when she was in a pa.s.sion, around the wrist. They both had a large oval stone also of dark green crystal, though he didnat know what the jewel was.

Then he realized exactly what he was doing. Sweat trickled down his spine and his vision blurred.

Yeah, he was a coward. He didnat want to lose another woman. Didnat want to have to see another child dead.

Yet if something bad happened to Artemisia, Lord and Lady forefend, he would lose her anyway, even if she were wed to another man.

And that idea made his gut clamp.

He had little idea on how to court her. He grumped a sigh. Might have to visit his good friend Laev again. Must be a glutton for punishment in the friends.h.i.+p field as well as the arena of HeartMates.

First he had to check on his officea”head had no new business scrys forwarded to his perscry pebble, but his feral informants would expect to be fed.

Head sent the word out that he wanted to meet all of thema”all speciesa”in Apollopa Park at NoonBell. With everyone looking for them, the small familial group of racc.o.o.ns would be found.

Garrett had heard from Captain Winterberry that the councils of Celta had put pressure on the Eryngo Family to hold a memorial for their murdered son that afternoon.

The Captain of the guard had been tight-lipped. No matter how much Winterberry had disliked being the guardsman the FirstFamilies requested when they were involved in any kind of case, he wasnat happy at handing Garrett the lead on this one. Garrett couldnat blame him and didnat hold it against the guy.

And here We are at the office! Rusby nipped Garrettas ear. Let Me down!

aYou donat want to lord it over all the other cats from my shoulder?a I will sit on the back stoop.

Garrett didnat think that was the right strategic move in showing a tiny FamCatas superiority over tough feral informants, but shrugged and placed Rusby on the small back porch.

Black-and-White greeted Garrett. We have told some dogs and the foxes and others that you wish a meeting at Apollopa Park at NoonBell.

aThank you.a Garrett undid the spells.h.i.+elds, went through the back door, the hallway, and into the storage room. The building smelled like mildew again. He wondered if he should let the landlord know or move to somewhere a little more upscale.

As he poured food into the trough, he sent a mental comment to Black-and-White. I am thinking about moving my office.

As he munched, Black-and-White said telepathically, We would like the Turquoise House fine.

Not going to be the Turquoise House; that is for a home. And not his.

Now Black-and-White stared at him. We do not like the alleys as much as we like brush and greenways. Perhaps you could make the old Temple at Apollopa Park an office. The last was said slyly, as if the cat was aware that the priest, Leger Cinchona, seemed to be restoring it.

aNo,a Garrett said aloud. He put away the supplies and locked up again. aBut Iall take your preferences under advis.e.m.e.nt.a You are not working today?

aNot inside.a Black-and-White wiggled his whiskers to rid himself of some stray bits of kibble. We will see you later.

aSure,a Garrett said. Of course he wouldnat tell the cat that everything other than his HeartMate could wait.

He had to do something for Artemisia. Had to prove he wanted and needed her. For more than s.e.x. Would do whatever it took to show her head been mistaken.

For the first time in his life, his relations.h.i.+p with a woman was his first priority.

GreatLady Danith DaAsh, the animal and Fam Healer, cooed and complimented Randa until she preened and allowed the woman to scan and study her as a prime example of a racc.o.o.n.

When the examination was done, Artemisia asked to use a private scry cubicle. Randa accompanied Artemisia on her own four paws, stating that the feel of the energy in the floor sparkled on her pads.

The cubicle had a simple counter with an equally simple metal scrybowl that Artemisia wanted to use instead of her own perscry.

With Randa sitting on her lap, she stiffened her spine and scried the main Druida guardhouse and asked for Captain Winterberry, the head of all the guards and the man she and Garrett had spoken with before. Winterberry liaised with the FirstFamiliesa”and the FirstFamilies would, of course, meddle in this, the case was so scandalous.

He answered her call at once. aWhat can I do for you, SecondLevel Healer?a aI am scrying about the Black Magic Cultist murder.a She took a steadying breath. aI have more information.a His eyes gleamed, then he shook his head. aIam sorry, but Iam not able to help you.a He paused a few seconds. aMy HeartMate and my cuz were the only victims who survived, so I am not allowed to work that case.a He bared his teeth in a grin and the fire of fury showed in the back of his eyes. Despite the fact that it had been sixteen years, the man looked as if he could be a suspect himself.

Artemisia was afraid that all the other Families whoad lost loved ones would feel the same.

aYou should contact Garrett Primross, as he is coordinating the investigation,a Winterberry said.

Twenty-six.

Garrett Primross is the head of the murder investigation!a Artemisia bit her lip. aBut heas a private investigator, not a guard.a Winterberryas gray gaze flattened and he replied with exquisite courtesy, as if his feelings were ruffled, too. aVery true. But the FirstFamilies have confidence in GentleSir Primross and requested he be put in charge of this matter.a And, like always, the FirstFamilies got what they wanted. Had it been less than a week ago that shead defended those n.o.bles to Garrett? But that was before shead been so intimately entangled in their interest in the murder. Now her and Garrettas positions had switched. He was the one the highest n.o.bles had confidence in and she was the one who didnat trust their motives or actionsa”reactionsa”to this matter.

aDo you need GentleSir Primrossas personal scry image?a aYes, thank you,a she said automatically through cold lips. She had hoped to avoid her HeartMate until her feelings were less tender.

Randa cheeped and Winterberryas glance focused on the Fam and his masklike face softened. aWho is that?a aShe is Randa, my FamRacc.o.o.n.a Winterberry dipped his head. aA pleasure. Hereas Primrossas business image.a The icon of a golden pyramid appeared.

aThank you.a The guardsmanas mouth thinned and he nodded once more. aI wish I could handle this.a His shoulders s.h.i.+fted. aIall have to wait to get word through official channels. Merry meet.a aNo, wait.a Artemisia swallowed. aI, uh, have an object that I must bring in. At once. Iall be right there. You can scry GentleSir Primross.a She ended the call and leaned her head on her hands, rubbing her scalp for a while.