Celta: Heart Choice Part 22

So Mitch.e.l.la and Antenn took their places in the Circle.

Straif looked cool and calm, but when he linked hands with her, excitement surged through their link and to Antenn. He jumped and stared at Straif.

The man's lips twitched up, but his eyes looked a little wild. Mitch.e.l.la dredged up calm and sent him a measure. He exhaled slowly, nodded thanks.

When Ailim Elder placed her hand in his, he inhaled deeply and dropped Mitch.e.l.la's fingers, going with Ailim to the center of the Circle to begin the ceremony. The opening of the Ritual was like many others Mitch.e.l.la had attended, except for the sheer Flair being generated, and that helped her settle.

With each moment that pa.s.sed, Mitch.e.l.la became more aware of her surroundings, and the people linked with her. Wispy clouds veiled the bright Celtan night, and only stars.h.i.+ne provided illumination. They stood hand-in-hand in a large Circle, more n.o.bles than Mitch.e.l.la had ever seen together at once in person, and she was part of it! So was Antenn, and to the surprise and amus.e.m.e.nt of many, so were the FamCats Drina, Zanth, Samba, the FamDog Primrose, and even Pinky. The Fam animals sat or lay on their person's foot, connected with the circle of humans and providing a hint of wildness in the cycling link. From the auras she could see clearly, she understood that she was one of the weakest in Flair.

The FirstFamily Lords and Ladies shone as bright as stars, surrounded by white energy, until she could only see their outlines, not their features, a mixed blessing. Families gathered together as their energies often complemented and magnified power. The most unexpected grouping was the Hollys, with Lark Hawthorn Apple and her disowned Holly husband, Holm, linked to the rest through his brother Tinne and then to D'Holly.

Ailim Elder s.h.i.+fted from foot to foot as if trying to stay comfortable. Her Flair was rich with burgeoning creation. Mitch.e.l.la wasn't talented enough to tell whether her unborn babe contributed a hint of energy, too.

As the Ritual proceeded, Mitch.e.l.la's mind hazed at the sheer power of it all-power that came to her to direct, since she had the clearest vision of a restored Residence. Flair ran up her hands, encasing her, whirling around her so potently that she felt like a galaxy wheeling in the heavens. She couldn't have contained it, couldn't have guided it, except for Straif. He was there next to her, rock solid, connected to the land itself, to steady and help her.

An energy sphere formed, grew ma.s.sive and a thousand times more powerful than what she'd seen the AirMages control when they'd smothered the fire at her home.

The sphere was a golden bubble, unhampered by air or ground. She saw it in her mind's eye, and Straif moved it from the grove to the Residence until the energy enveloped the house. Sweat trickled down his arm to dampen his palm; his scent drifted to her.

Mitch.e.l.la blinked, but her mind's eye remained clear. She saw the entire Residence, including the hidden HouseHeart that only Family should know. She wanted to ask Straif about that, but Flair held her in its grip and she couldn't move, could barely breathe. She sensed that Straif understood she saw the HouseHeart, but s.h.i.+elded that knowledge from everyone else. An honor, she supposed. Better if she could breathe easily.

We will bless and renovate the Residence first, then restore the s.h.i.+eldspells of the walls around the land, said Straif.

Focusing on the house, Mitch.e.l.la saw it as if it were a viz. Yes, blessing, first, she managed to project.

Ailim Elder, as the Lady, began the blessing chant, others joined, and Mitch.e.l.la gasped at the beauty of the song. Everyone raised their linked arms overhead; the cats purred. A stream of pure, potent Flair-positive Flair, with no ill-wishes, no negative thoughts toward Straif or T'Blackthorns-surged from the Circle to the sphere surrounding the Residence, and the house glowed golden, starting with a burst of light from the HouseHeart and spreading like benevolent fire throughout the home.

The energy circled like a whirlwind in the ballroom, eliminating layers of despair. Yet the place contained so much negativity, it might take all- Straif sent the blessing to cleanse other rooms, faster, completely. His grat.i.tude at the gathering spilled from him to warm Mitch.e.l.la, and she sent the feeling back to him, adding the affection and a blessing. She caught a glimpse of a hard, crusted wound in his spirit breaking open, being soothed. Swallowing hard, she fixed her gaze on the glow beyond the trees. She saw the blessing sift through the Residence. Something more was needed. "Peace," whispered Mitch.e.l.la.

A quarter-way around the Circle from Straif, T'Hawthorn changed the beat of the chorus of the blessing song to a rhythmic poem of Peace. One by one, clockwise, each person picked up the verse. This spell, too, Mitch.e.l.la knew. She had celebrated the spell with her own family, only its sheer power differed.

Finally, the last one added her voice to the rest. The circling energy calmed. Ailim Elder rested a little and smiled beautifully up at Straif. He looked down at her with tenderness, then turned to Mitch.e.l.la. For the first time, his gaze was free of torment. They all repeated the verse three times.

Then Straif shouted, "Security!"

Eighteen.

With Straif's yell of "Security," T'Oak, at the bottom of the Circle, raised his voice and sent his Flair cycling, raising the energy again. The Circle shuddered, and that force was added to the bubble of gold. An image of ice came to Mitch.e.l.la's mind, coating the outside walls, doors, and windows in thick layers. Straif smiled in satisfaction. His shoulders straightened in relief that his home was safe again.

But the Residence needed more. "Beauty!" Mitch.e.l.la cried. T'Apple, a few people to her right started another song, a lilting lyrical song. D'Spindle joined her lovely voice to his, then her HeartMate picked up the tune. Alternating male/female, each sang. Mitch.e.l.la heard Antenn, and pride filled her at his competence.

When her turn came, she'd learned the words from the minds of those around her and she sang with all her spirit. Straif jerked a little, and the rest of the Circle raised their voices to overcome her screechy tones. She laughed inside. Again they sang the spell thrice, then Ailim Elder started a pattern of Words that raised the power even more. The final, most important spell neared.

"FLAIR!" shouted Straif, and the energy sent to the Residence sank into every wall, deepened into a large pool in the HouseHeart, stored, available for use for years to come.

With a rolling, rus.h.i.+ng sound, water shot from the pipes in the palms of the Dark G.o.ddess and filled the first small basin in which she stood. Instants later, it cascaded into the next larger bowl. In a moment, it had filled the last basin and misting droplets dewed the celebratants. Mitch.e.l.la felt her hair dampen, saw the gleam of a drop on her eyelashes.

Triumph zipped around the circle, and Mitch.e.l.la cried out with joy, her shout joining others.

In gentle steps, Straif modulated their energy, sent the remnants back to them, calmed them. Ailim Elder's quiet voice joined with his as they ended the Ritual and finally broke the Circle, unlinked hands.

Mitch.e.l.la forcibly locked her knees to keep from swaying, weak from all the Flair that had sizzled through her at her command. Her brain and ears buzzed. Licking dry lips, she announced, "The west terrace has tents of food and drink for your refreshment. Please follow Antenn."

Most of the others strolled, laughing and gesturing, from the grove to the west terrace. The air hummed with good cheer and their speculation on the state of the Residence and grounds.

GreatLady D'Heather whispered in her HeartMate's ear. In the bright starlight his flush was obvious. "Will you need me, SupremeJudge Elder?" he asked Ailim, eyeing her belly.

"MotherSire, I'm a FirstLevel Healer and still here," Lark Apple said.

The Heathers said their good-byes and left.

Mitch.e.l.la smiled from her heart. If she squinted, she could see tiny motes of Flair-silver, gold-glistening in the air. She felt surrounded by champagne, breathing it in, letting it settle on her skin, slip along her nerves and into her blood.

Ailim Elder swayed, paled. "The baby's coming!"

Lark Apple ran to support her. Straif followed.

Taking both of Ailim's hands, Lark frowned, then glanced at Straif. "I think it best that she isn't moved. We can bring the babe into the world here, and shortly."

Straif gulped. "This will be a great blessing on my House." The bond between him and Mitch.e.l.la pulsed with a shade of fear. It would be disaster if something went wrong.

"Hold her while I arrange a bedsponge from the heavy moss here," Lark said, and efficiently formed a birthing bed. "Let's make her comfortable."

Straif gently lowered Ailim to the soft moss. She gripped his hand, wet her lips. "Send to the s.h.i.+p, Nuada's Sword, for my husband, Ruis. I want him here."

Mitch.e.l.la felt Straif hesitate. Having the Null on the estate could be harmful. It could cancel some of the newly made spells, blunt the pretty atmosphere around them.

"Of course," Straif said. "I don't have a functioning glider-"

"No Flair technology will work around Captain Elder," Vinni T'Vine said. He'd been standing on the other side of the fountain, and Mitch.e.l.la hadn't noticed him. "I'm staying. I'll be the Oracle for the babe-to tell the strength and perhaps the bent of its Flair."

Ailim panted as a labor pain rippled through her body, then said, "T'Blackthorn Residence might be linked in communication with the s.h.i.+p-"

Residence! Straif sent mentally, and Mitch.e.l.la heard him, easily. She s.h.i.+vered.

T'Blackthorn? answered the Residence.

Send word to Captain Ruis Elder of Nuada's Sword that his Lady is giving birth to their child here in the Grove of the Dark G.o.ddess.

A swirl of bright colors. .h.i.tting her mind-emotions from Ailim-made Mitch.e.l.la gasp. She tottered, fell against a huge tree. As she set her hands against the bark to push away in reactive fear, she sensed the deep hum of the tree's lifeforce, its pleasure in connecting with her-the one who had helped revitalize the land. She leaned back against the tree, blinking in surprise at this new connection and missed the rest of Straif's words until he smiled down at Ailim Elder.

Cradling her hand between both of his, he said, "T'Black-thorn Residence told me that your man is running for his horse and will be here in a few moments."

"Horse?" Mitch.e.l.la asked.

"My . . . husband . . . keeps . . . several . . . horses . . . and stridebeasts-" Ailim bit her lip.

"There is no reason for you to hurt," Lark said. "Holm and I will administer pain relief until your husband comes to Nullify our Flair." The Healer held out her hand for her HeartMate.

Holm swallowed, then joined Lark sitting on the ground and gingerly took her hand. He inhaled sharply, his color paled, then steadied. "Done," he said tightly.

Lark said, "Your baby is fine. Strong and healthy, ready to be born. We will move her along a little, perhaps have her arrive soon after her father is here. Straif, notify us as soon as Captain Elder rides onto the estate."

"I'm opening the gates now," Straif said calmly, belying the spiking emotions shooting through his and Mitch.e.l.la's link. "Many people came through the front gates and straight to the grove. I can light their broad path with my Flair. Captain Elder will see the way. Riding fast, he won't have time to Nullify the path."

Straif gestured with a hand, and a dazzling swath of silver shone from the edge of the grove toward the front of the estate. Mitch.e.l.la heard the distant appreciation of those who stood on the west terrace as they saw the trail light up.

"The baby is well positioned. Your body is ready, Ailim. Time to push. We can help a very little, with Flair," Lark said.

Mitch.e.l.la set her jaw. She'd always celebrated every Clover birth with her family, but had never been with the mother and babe at the time. Memories marched before her of the new mothers' glowing faces, the new fathers' satisfied grins. The babies themselves, tiny and beautiful.

Residence! she sent strongly.

I hear you well, Mitch.e.l.la Clover, the Residence said.

The newborn Elder girl will need washcloths, swaddling clothes, a blanket . . . She waved her hands even though she knew it couldn't see her.

I will warm the water of the fountain of the Dark G.o.ddess, she can be bathed in the basin there. I will retrieve from storage newborn garments and accoutrements.

Not Fasha's, Mitch.e.l.la said.

No. We have others. I have called Antenn to take them from the ResidenceDen and bring them to you.

Wait! Ruis Elder comes, he will want to hold his child. Any clothing made with Flair will fall apart. Mitch.e.l.la was pleased with herself that she'd thought of this.

One moment. I am sorting. I have found some blankets and other clothes, but no baby clothes that are not Flaired. Antenn is laughing at us. The Residence sounded stiff.

Mitch.e.l.la was smiling herself.

Chuckling, Mitch.e.l.la refocused on the scene in front of her to discover Straif staring, the bond between them pulsing with a mixture of emotions-excitement, tenderness, pleasure in sharing all they had this night.

She couldn't look away from him. Everything around her sharpened preternaturally. She heard Ailim's soft pants and Lark's murmurs, saw the dark tracing of new leaves against the starry sky, smelled him, Straif-who had the fragrance of his land, and sage, and the hot tang of his Flair.

"Bring Ailim a stronger connection with this land, Straif," Lark requested.

Straif turned to murmur something to Ailim, then he slowly drew some Earth-energy into himself, some running to Mitch.e.l.la, the rest to Ailim to help her.

Mitch.e.l.la found enough wits to say, "The Residence has prepared some un-Flaired swaddling clothes for the baby."

Ailim's gaze turned from inward concentration to meet Mitch.e.l.la's, and she smiled. "Our thanks." A pang crossed her face, and her eyes unfocused.

Holm withdrew his hand from Lark's and jumped to his feet, appearing pale. "I still don't do well in Healing situations." He shrugged. "I'll go pick up the clothes." He ignored his HeartMate's frown and smiled charmingly at Mitch.e.l.la.

She smiled back. "Antenn has stacked them on a small table in the Great Hall."

Holm nodded and loped off.

"Mitch.e.l.la, I need you," Lark said.

"I don't have much more than common Flair."

"But tonight you are linked with the land, and there's a bond between you and T'Blackthorn. If you switch places with him and link with him, you can filter his strong Flair to me through a woman's psi-pattern. I want more pain relief here."

Ailim looked up at them again, hurt glazing her eyes. "Mitch.e.l.la . . . should . . . not . . . feel . . . obliged."

And Mitch.e.l.la knew then that Ailim, the telempathic judge, was feeling Mitch.e.l.la's own ache and renewed grief at being sterile. But she couldn't refuse a woman in need. With more courage than she felt, she left the sweet calmness of the tree and sat near Ailim.

"Take Ailim's hand, now," Lark said.

Mitch.e.l.la slid her left hand under Straif's, and he grasped her right hand with his left.

Lark tensed and she settled the fluctuating Flair. As their connection steadied, Mitch.e.l.la became part of another powerful ritual. From Straif, she received a deep sense of the T'Blackthorn land, integral to him. How could anyone believe someone else would be better for the estate?

"They won't," Ailim whispered, answering Mitch.e.l.la's mental question. Ailim stared at Straif and Mitch.e.l.la. "This birth will be the talk of Druida for a few eightdays, and I'll be sure the Councils know of T'Blackthorn's honor and bond with his land." She spoke easily now, and Mitch.e.l.la knew with wonder that she helped ease Ailim's labor.

For herself, Mitch.e.l.la felt the gravid body of a woman carrying a baby ready to be born. The deep heaviness in her womb, the lushness of a body prepared to nurture a child, and she cherished the feeling-something that would never happen to her. Macha's disease had destroyed her eggs, ruined the lining of her uterus. She could never carry a child.

She sank into the physicality of Ailim's condition, and Lark let her-the Healer knowing as well as Ailim that Mitch.e.l.la was sterile. The three women shared the knowledge in glances, in the flow of their Flair. Straif didn't seem to notice.

Tears trickled down Mitch.e.l.la's cheeks.

"We will have to name the child after you, too, Mitch.e.l.la," Ailim said.

Lark snorted. "I can tell you that a woman can have too many names."

Ailim smiled serenely. "Many of our FirstFamily names are used by both male and female, but I want my little girl to have a feminine name."

Mitch.e.l.la dug deep to keep her voice steady. "Then you shouldn't name her Mitch.e.l.la."

"What's your middle . . . name?" Ailim asked after a contraction had pa.s.sed.

"Eve," Mitch.e.l.la said.

"Beautiful," Ailim said, and closed her eyes.

Within the cycling Flair, Mitch.e.l.la realized that the birth would soon be over. With Ailim's pain controlled, and others to help her push, the babe could be born shortly. Lark monitored both mother and baby, using her Healing Flair to ease the birth.

Straif, Ailim, and Lark all had great Flair. The sensation was incredible, as if it opened new doors in her mind, in her own Flair, speeding down unused pathways of her mind and body. She didn't deceive herself-the boost in her Flair wouldn't last, and she didn't care that it wouldn't. Great Flair made great demands upon the user. She'd seen others lose weight in a few days from the extensive use of Flair.

Lark, the Healer, shot her a glance, and Mitch.e.l.la realized that the woman noted everyone's health. Mitch.e.l.la realized more than one FirstFamily Lady or Lord died from too much stress on the organs when using great Flair.

"I'm back," Holm Apple said. He clutched the swaddling blankets tightly, as if to protect them with his life. "I'll stand over by the fountain, with T'Vine. How's it going?" he asked heartily.