"I heard Trif scream. In my head." Pratty snuffled.

Danith handed her a softleaf.

Pratty continued, "Well, she always was the strongest Flaired of my bunch. Are you sure she's all right?"

Danith c.o.c.ked her head as if communicating with her HeartMate. "T'Ash says smoke inhalation only. She should be completely fine in a couple of days. Hoa.r.s.e until then. Why don't we go to them and take them home?" Danith gently pushed the woman back into the glider and climbed in. "Coming, Mitch.e.l.la?"

Mitch.e.l.la glanced at the AirMage who said, "Go. A guardsman will contact you about the fire." She looked at the building remnants and sighed. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Mitch.e.l.la didn't want to think of her loss. The narrow two-story house was gone. Along with all her possessions, most particularly her sketch books-and Antenn's. Creative work forever lost. A great ache threatened to engulf her. But Antenn and Trif were safe, and for that she felt pure relief and thankfulness.

By the time they reached Primary Healing Hall, Aunt Pratty had murmured a cosmetic refreshing spell that tidied her clothes and hair and erased tear tracks. Danith paid the glider driver, led them into Primary Healing Hall and to the n.o.ble Sitting Room.

At the sight of Antenn, washed and clean and healthy, Mitch.e.l.la let out a whooshing breath. She ran to him, just as Pratty ran to Trif. He grabbed her and held her hard.

"Are you all right?" she patted him, ran her hands up and down his skinny arms and back.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. Mitch.e.l.la, you came."

"Of course, I came. I'll never leave you." Her heart thumped in her tight chest. She loved this child, and she only wished she could have spared him this experience. He had too many bad memories as it was.

He choked and buried his head in her shoulder, and she pretended not to hear his suppressed sobs. Making soothing noises, she rocked him, holding him close. He smelled like boy and the best herbal soap, and she found herself crying, too.

"Here," Straif said, and she started. He moved so quietly! He handed some softleaves to her. She took several and gave a few to Antenn. Furtively he wiped his eyes and blew his nose.

Danith appeared, holding a limp Pinky. "Antenn, he's fine. I sent him into a deep sleep. He'll wake late tomorrow morning."

Antenn disengaged himself from Mitch.e.l.la, blew into the softleaves one last time, then cradled his small cat. "We're all right," he whispered. "We're really all right." His body shuddered. Glancing at Mitch.e.l.la from under eyelashes spiky with tears, he cleared his throat and asked, "The house?"

Mitch.e.l.la gulped. "Gone."

"Where are we going to stay?" asked Antenn.

A very good question.

"With me!" said Danith.

T'Ash slipped his arm around her waist, and she leaned against his awesome strength. His eyes dark, he looked at Antenn and Mitch.e.l.la and said softly, "You are welcome to stay at T'Ash Residence. There is plenty of room." One side of his mouth kicked up. "Nothing furnished for a boy, yet, but that can be changed. It could be good for the Residence."

Beside her, Antenn's body still held a fine trembling. Mitch.e.l.la hesitated. T'Ash was genuine in his offer. This evening had brought them to a new understanding-it must have taken all his courage to 'port into a burning building, but he'd done it. And saved lives.

Danith and Straif had expected it of him, and he'd acted like the n.o.ble he was, not the enraged man who'd thrown Mitch.e.l.la across the city. She could trust him now.

Aunt Pratty wiped away renewed tears. "Of course you'll both move back into the Clover Compound, and Trif as well."

"No, I won't!" croaked Trif. "It wasn't my house that imploded. I have a perfectly fine apartment in MidCla.s.s Lodge."

"I need you with me, my dear," sniffled Pratty.

"Just for a couple of days," Trif said, squeezing her mother.

Antenn had gone still. Mitch.e.l.la hated the idea of returning to the large block of sprawling Clover homes.

"With the huge complexity of Mitch.e.l.la's current project in renovating my home, I think that she and Antenn should stay on site at T'Blackthorn Residence." Straif's eyes were very blue.

Which would be worse, living with her relatives or T'Blackthorn; being smothered with attention and nosiness or in danger of being seduced? Or living with Danith and T'Ash, Commoners in a cool Residence, guests and not Family. At least at T'Blackthorn's she'd be fulfilling a purpose. At least Straif knew that Antenn must be included in any invitation.

The idea made her a little dizzy. She stared. "Are you serious?"

He smiled. "Of course. To get a real feeling for the Residence, you need to be there, to open yourself to it so it will speak with you."

Pratty moaned a little. "FirstFamily n.o.bles. They are all so strange, and so intent on getting their own way." When she realized what she'd said, she flushed red, but looked at Straif and T'Ash defiantly.

"Antenn and I must discuss this privately," Mitch.e.l.la said.

Danith gestured to a door Mitch.e.l.la hadn't noticed. "There's a small scry cubby."

Holding Antenn's hand, Mitch.e.l.la crossed the room, opened the door, and shut it behind them. Like everything designed for n.o.bles, the little room held only the best. It was a narrow rectangle with light slate blue tinted walls, an elegant reddwood scrytable and a large golden scrybowl. One deeply cushioned tapestry chair was angled near the table.

As if his knees gave way, Antenn collapsed onto the thick Chinju rug, carefully protecting his cat from jarring. He scooted back against the wall, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes, stroking Pinky.

He was pale, his face thin with approaching manhood, expression serious. With a clutch of her heart, Mitch.e.l.la wondered if this night had banished the last bit of young boy.

She folded herself next to him, glad to have the wall at her back. For a moment she wanted a cat to pet, thought of Drina, and decided she wouldn't take a chance with a FamCat. "What do you want to do? I'd rather not go back to the family." She shifted her shoulders and released some tension, sagging against the wall.

A small smile curved Antenn's lips. "They're great to visit, but exhausting to live with."

Mitch.e.l.la chuckled. "Ah, yes, my solitary boy." She brushed brown hair from his forehead.

He grimaced.

"Did I hurt you? What is it?"

"I ran with a gang once."

"You tagged along after your brother."

When he opened his eyes, his hazel gaze was intent. "Yeah, but my brother and his Triad-mates tried to take T'Ash's woman, tried to kill both of them."

"T'Ash doesn't hold that against you!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"He doesn't." She wouldn't have been sure earlier that evening, but knew, now. "This situation has reconciled things between T'Ash and me. I trust him now, even with you." She tugged gently on a lock of his hair.

"All right." He made a face. "Then I think he and Danith would want to practice on me, as a kid, as a boy. T'Ash is sure that he's going to have sons."

That was true.

"And there's that Zanth FamCat." Antenn lifted Pinky from his lap to his chest. "Zanth is six times Pinky's size. Pinky will always be a little cat. Zanth might tear him up."

Mitch.e.l.la nearly shuddered at the thought of Zanth herself. "So you don't want to stay at T'Ash Residence, or the Clovers."

"No." He turned his head, and his hazel eyes had shifted more into the brown range. "Is it true, what T'Blackthorn said about being better for you to live at his Residence?"

She recalled how she struggled to hear Straif's house. "I think so."

Antenn withdrew subtly. Mitch.e.l.la hurried on, "But those aren't all our options!" She waved expansively. "There's s.p.a.ce over The Four Leaf Clover," three tiny rooms. "We could look for an apartment in MidCla.s.s Lodge-"

"Let's go to T'Blackthorn's. I can keep an eye on him so he doesn't hurt you."

She was flabbergasted. "Hurt me!"

Antenn's mouth set. "He wants you on a bedsponge."

A flush started around her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and slipped up her skin. The room was dim, and Mitch.e.l.la hoped Antenn wouldn't notice. "That doesn't mean we'll end up lovers. I can be completely professional."

"Yes, but like Aunt Pratty says, he's a FirstFamily Lord, and they've had centuries of getting what they want."

"Circ.u.mstances have changed with T'Blackthorn." Mitch.e.l.la wondered how public his situation would become, and when. "There's another claimant to his t.i.tle."

Eyes gleaming, Antenn said, "Really? Zow, that's interesting. T'Blackthorn screwed up, didn't he? We'd be in the middle of that? High politics."

Antenn was reviving too quickly. "I believe so," she said.

He straightened, setting Pinky back on his lap. "Living there, in a FirstFamily Residence, will really impress the Cang Zhus." The Cang Zhus were the architectural Family Antenn apprenticed with three days a week.

Mitch.e.l.la caught the edge in his voice. "Have the Cang Zhus been a problem? I thought SupremeJudge Ailim Elder's staff checked on them and you. If you have concerns, tell me. I'll speak with them, and Elder, too."

Antenn hunched a shoulder. "They're not too bad. Just sn.o.bs, and I won't find better architects to apprentice with. Seems like a long time before I'll be a Master, though."

Mitch.e.l.la patted his knee. "Time goes faster than you think."

Antenn snorted, then smiled. "But GrandLord Cang Zhu will envy me if we live at T'Blackthorn's. The CZs are strong in Flair, but their Family wasn't founded until three generations after Landing. I hear that often enough. The Mosses-"

"Your family is as Common as dirt, like the Clovers," Mitch.e.l.la said.

"Yeah, but the Clovers have the honor of being the most prolific Family on Celta. So you have status. People envy you. Even FirstFamilies."

"There is that," Mitch.e.l.la said evenly.

Lifting Pinky gently, Antenn stood and began to pace. After one short back-and-forth he nodded. "Yeah, I think we should move in with T'Blackthorn."

"Hmm," Mitch.e.l.la said. "You're sensitive to homes like I am, and you have more Flair. You might be able to learn to speak to the Residence."

His eyes lit, and he skipped. "Really? Really! Zow."

"In fact," Mitch.e.l.la rose and shook out her full trous and overtunic, "you can help me." She searched his face. "T'Blackthorn has trouble with some of his Family rooms. If I gave you the Heir'sSuite, you might-no, that won't work."

"Why not? Live in T'Blackthorn's old rooms? Zow! I can help redesign them for a modern boy."

She raised her eyebrows. "There is no Oracle or Seer yet to say the heir will be a boy."

Antenn rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Well, I can help make it good for a girl, too."

She grinned. "Exactly, but we have a problem. The heir's playroom belongs to Drina."

Antenn frowned. "Drina?"

"T'Blackthorn's Fam, a cat."

Cuddling Pinky close, Antenn asked, "What kind of Fam?"

"A half-Siamese, snotty Fam."

"Is she bigger than Pinky?"

"A little, but she's prissy, and not nearly as muscular."

"Then she won't bother us. We can live at T'Blackthorns and make a bunch of gilt and fame and even help," he ended.

Mitch.e.l.la figured Drina would be a pain, but let the topic go. She gnawed her lower lip. "I'll put you in T'Blackthorn's sister's old suite. Give the rooms a different resonance with your energy, and T'Blackthorn new memories of the place."

"A girl's room?"

"I believe she was a very active girl, and it's a suite."

Antenn scratched Pinky's head, the cat's whiskers twitched. Antenn nodded, standing taller. "If that's what I can do to help, it will be good." He grinned.

Mitch.e.l.la smiled back. She might get a suite, too. The guest suite. Being from Families as Common as dirt, they'd never had suites of their own.

Beyond the door, the level of noise rose-disturbed people talking loudly. Mitch.e.l.la gave Antenn a hard one-armed hug, Pinky one long stroke. "We'd better go back in."

"Yes, we've made our decision, and it's a good one." Antenn nodded again.

Setting her shoulders, Mitch.e.l.la said, "It sounds as if they are discussing the fire." At the recollection of her loss, tears hovered in her throat. She sniffed, swallowed, then opened the door and walked through it, back to the elegant sitting room and the others.

Eleven.

Winterberry, the guardsman, had arrived. He eyed everyone in the n.o.ble Sitting room of Primary Healing Hall, then said, "Yes, the fire was started by a delayed firebombspell."

Blood drained from Mitch.e.l.la. How could that be? "A firebombspell? I don't have any enemies."