Heart Choice by Robin D. Owens Read Free Book Online Page B

make sure the medical cabinets were stocked. If this continued to be her favorite perch, he’d ensure his shirts were augmented with shoulder pads. He scowled. Now that he was back in Druida, he’d need more clothing, better clothing, tailored clothing, which meant he’d have to visit GrandLady Pyra and have her take his measurements.
    When they reached the GardenShed, Straif walked around it. It was the best-kept structure on the estate, better than the walls and the greeniron gates. He squinted and saw the aura of strong shieldspells. He opened the door and found a large, comfortable room with bedsponge, medical cabinet, no-time, and sink. A sheet of papyrus lay on a table. He picked it up and writing appeared.
    Â 
“To T’Blackthorn, Greetyou.
With the help of your Residence, I have
bespelled this papyrus to interact with only
your skin perspiration. Please note the
following Flair commands that will initiate
various spells.”
    Â 
Straif scanned the rest of the sheet, tucked it in his pocket. Crossing to the no-time, he touched it and said, “Breakfast.”
    A list of ten hearty meals was recited in T’Ash’s rumbling voice.
    â€œThe three eggs and crispy porcine strips,” he said.
    I would like a crème brûlée for dessert, Drina said.
    Straif snorted but got the food for both of them and they ate.
    Belly full of food, he decided he wouldn’t skewer T’Ash after all. Maybe he’d only beat him up a little. A smile hovered on Straif’s lips. They were evenly matched. T’Ash was larger and had the muscles of a blacksmith, but Straif was tough from wandering Celta—and sometimes hiring out as a guard for merchant journeys.
    Drina’s small, pink tongue swept her muzzle and whiskers. You must find someone who cooks well for us.
    Straif’s face froze. Not one of the Family, for there was no Family. This was hard. He should have cared for the estate all along, visited it, watched over it, then it wouldn’t have been this hard to face it and restore it. He swallowed.
    Tapping the scrystone set in the wall, he said, “T’Ash.”
    Drina jumped up on his shoulder.
    The facets in the crystal sharpened, coalesced into a man’s face. “T’Ash here,” the GreatLord said.
    Something in the man’s narrowed eyes made Straif approach the topic of the missing stones obliquely. He’d state a need first, as if showing a vulnerability. “I would like to hold a RitualCircle of several FirstFamily Heads of Household here on full twinmoons, to power up T’Blackthorn Residence.”
    T’Ash’s black brows arched over his skycrystal blue eyes. “Agreed.” He hesitated a moment. “A good idea.” A fleeting smile crossed his olive-toned visage. “I had not thought to do such a thing when I rebuilt my own Residence. T’Ash Residence, too, could use a celebration, and T’Ash Family. My wife is with child, our first.”
    â€œCongratulations.” Straif felt a warmth as well as envy at T’Ash’s news.
    â€œThe T’Ash Family line continues.” T’Ash closed his eyes a moment. “I had thought, for a while, that I would be the last.”
    Those words were enough for Straif to understand T’Ash’s sympathy for the sole member of the Blackthorn line—Straif himself. T’Ash knew, none better, that Straif must ensure the Blackthorn line continued.
    Like all FirstFamilies, the survival of the Family was Straif’s primary goal. That was why he had to find the cure for his vulnerability to the Angh virus. Simply so flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood would descend in an unbroken lineage from the past and the visionaries who had funded the Colonization and made the long journey to Celta, to the future where Straif’s descendants would finally tame and claim Celta for their own.
    Celtans still struggled to populate their planet. Though their