With an oath at the horrible rutted words dug by T'Ash's FamCat, Straif was back inside and in his ResidenceDen. Mitch.e.l.la had already placed a large copper scrybowl on his desk, full of water. As soon as he had initiated the preparation spell, before he could scry himself, the water whirled and the copper pinged.

"Here," he said.

"T'Ash," said the other. His angry visage formed in the misty droplets above the bowl. He held a limp Zanth in his arms.

"I want to speak to you," Straif said.

"Mutual. Zanth told me what happened. He was hunting on your land near dawn. He says someone Nasty overcame his will and forced him to dig bad holes."

"He spelled 'Mitchb.i.t.c.h Must Die,'" Sraif said, adding a visual of the letters for T'Ash.

The GreatLord's lip curled at one end. "Like all Fams, Zanth has no spelling skills." He glanced down at the scruffy animal in his arms and a hint of vulnerability showed in his eyes. "His energy and Flair have been drained. His paws were raw. Danith fixed them up some, but the fliggering b.a.s.t.a.r.d that forced his will on Zanth nearly killed him. He. Will. Pay."

"One of the worst crimes of Celta is to use Flair to compel another," Straif said. Cold trickled up his spine, pooling and resting at the back of his neck. He rubbed it. "A person who would do that would stop at nothing."

"Like using a firebombspell or a reflective Flair trap." T'Ash's smile was dagger-sharp. "The trap problem came to light this morning. The FirstFamily Heads of Households were all called and told that you were having security problems at your estate." He shrugged. "Someone is really pushing to show you in a bad light, diminish your status so he can take over."

"Perhaps the same one who sets the spells. T'Blackthorn estate would be easier to penetrate for one with Family blood."

"I think T'Holly pointed that out," T'Ash said. "You have me as a lifetime ally, T'Blackthorn."

"The reflective Flair trap was attached to a rock. I've dismantled the spell, but you're the stone specialist. Winterberry took the rock last night. He will be consulting you."

T'Ash nodded. "One more thing, Zanth doesn't remember much of his ordeal . . ." He cuddled the cat close, and Straif figured that if Zanth hadn't been a tough Downwind tom, he might not have survived-his paws and nose were pallid, his fur rough. The hair on the back of Straif's neck p.r.i.c.kled. He'd have to safeguard Drina, too.

". . . but Zanth said the one who did this to him is Not Right."

"Not right?"

Zanth shifted and moaned in T'Ash's arms. "Mad," T'Ash rumbled.

Straif went cold. "I'd appreciate it if you hurried on that Fam collar, set it with a diamond, and sent it over. Please imbue it with strong protection spells. I'll report this to Winterberry."

T'Ash nodded. "I'll do that, but know this. Zanth wears a fortune around his neck and likes to hunt at night. His collar holds the strongest spell I have. Blessed be." He blew on the water in his scrybowl and ended the call.

Straif stood frozen for a moment, then headed out the front door. Time to track his enemy in earnest.

But the day proved one of the most frustrating Straif ever experienced. He hadn't been able to get a good read on the trail of the other Blackthorn, couldn't track him one more step than before.

All around the estate walls were footprint smears so overlaid that Straif couldn't separate them-all pulsing with excitement. Ex-gang members, thrill seekers, others interested in Straif or the restoration of the Residence. To Straif's surprise, the strongest track of all wasn't human, but fox. He had a small den of the creatures nestled in a corner of the estate-far from where Zanth liked to hunt and the Residence. Foxes were even scarcer than cats, though not as rare as dogs.

The greeniron gate area and the drive all held powerful lines of the greatly Flaired FirstFamilies Lords and Ladies who'd attended the Ritual the night before. Their Flair overwhelmed the trails of everything else.

Straif went to T'Ash's to consult with him and Winterberry about the rock that had held the capture spell. Winterberry questioned T'Ash and Straif, keeping a good stride from the snoring Zanth. Winterberry watched Straif with narrowed eyes. Neither T'Ash nor Winterberry discovered anything new about the rock.

Finally, irritated at the lack of any real progress, Straif returned to his estate only to realize that Mitch.e.l.la was avoiding him. That was the worst frustration of all.

So he immersed himself in hard labor. With his own hands and shovel, backed with Flair, he turned over the disturbed dirt of the rutted words and dug a rectangular flower bed. He hunted through his verdant, overgrown grounds for bushes. Around the edges he planted elder and the native Celtan plants of glanhawr and purdeb, which would purify the ground until he had a priest and priestess bless it during the next full twinmoons. Then he brought in healthy sage bushes and took seeds of the best Blackthorn-Sloe bushes from the botanical no-time and planted them.

Since the day became fine and clear with Bel white in the deep blue sky, Straif's gardening relaxed and refreshed him. Antenn and the cook were avoiding him, too, but Straif didn't care about them. Drina kept him company. She watched him lay out the flower bed, made comments, chased and ate moths, and napped in the sunshine. She was happy until her collar arrived with "one puny diamond and heavy spells," then went to her room to sulk.

When he finished, he grunted. He didn't have Mitch.e.l.la's artistic eye, but the garden looked good to him. He could live with it, and that was the important thing. He examined his estate. He could live with everything. His land, his glowing Residence, his place. He could rebuild his life and his line and be happy here. If he could conclude his elusive quest.

It was a matter of moments to find a pretty pot and transplant a hawthorn bush that he'd had blessed by GreatLord Hawthorn himself. Straif smiled. His gift was good.

After standing under the waterfall and dressing in casual clothes, he went to the ResidenceDen. The other windows now held illusions of the Great Labyrinth instead of unkempt grounds. It would take many people to clear the grounds, though with Mitch.e.l.la's help he'd arranged a trade in services for the best landscape design available.

"The glider you requested from T'Holly has arrived," the Residence said. "It is yours for as long as you wish and bespelled to accept your Flair. Mitch.e.l.la and Antenn wait in the front. The FamCat refuses to visit Commoners in an ugly collar."

Straif picked up his hawthorn bush in the Grand Hall and did a little, excited 'port to the front gliderway. Antenn wore a moss green tunic-trous suit, and Mitch.e.l.la a gown of nearly the same color that accented her eyes. Something in the cut, workmanship, or material of their clothes proclaimed them unashamedly middle cla.s.s. Straif himself wore a tunic-trous suit he'd kept at T'Holly's that was several years out of style. He grimaced. He appeared a shabby, down-on-his-luck Lord. Just what he was. "Where's Pinky?" asked Straif.

"Trif wanted to play with him today, he's already there." Antenn frowned at the glider. "It's very old and big."

"Antenn," Mitch.e.l.la chided.

"Sorry," Antenn said, not looking at Straif. The boy shifted a large, gaily wrapped present.

"True, it's old, but it's big and comfortable. Open windows and doors," Straif ordered. The windows faded to nothing, then the doors rose open. "There's plenty of room for us and our gifts. What do you have there, Antenn?"

The boy climbed into the glider and slid over on the bench, keeping his package close. After Mitch.e.l.la and Straif had entered and the doors were sealed, Antenn looked at Straif and said hesitantly, "T'Vine asked if we could pick him up, and I said yes, but I didn't know he lived outside Druida."

"That's fine." Straif ordered the glider to T'Vine Residence. The glider was fast, and they were soon outside the southgate of Druida and climbing the hill where GreatHouse T'Vine's Residence stood.

Antenn shifted in his seat. "Trif studies old Earth stuff to help understand her Flair."

Straif glanced at Mitch.e.l.la. "What's her Flair?"

"She sees past events, even as far back as ancient Earth," Mitch.e.l.la said.

"Unusual," Straif said.

"Yeah," Antenn said. "Well she likes old stuff, but she thinks about the future, too, and what sort of front she wants on her house."

"Front?" Straif said.

Mitch.e.l.la said, "A few generations ago our family heads of households got together and purchased the whole square. We've been building around the block. We call it the Clover Compound, and the plays.p.a.ce is the center courtyard. Antenn and I didn't want a house of our own-there are several new and empty ones at the moment, and some being built-so we lived in the rented cottage. Trif is living in MidCla.s.s Lodge now, but has chosen one of the new places that isn't quite finished."

"I've made a solid three-dimensional model of her house for her. The front and windows: trim, architectural details. I'm pretty sure she'll like it. It can be a working model for when the rest of the family finishes her house," Antenn said.

"It's wonderful." Mitch.e.l.la beamed. "Trif will love it. Like a dollhouse, but her own."

"I look forward to seeing it," Straif said. He'd spent more time thinking about homes and houses-architectural, interior, and landscape design-in the last few days than he'd ever done in all his thirty-two years. And as the glider slid through the lower shieldspelled gates of the T'Vine estate and up to the first walled gate of the T'Vine Residence, Mitch.e.l.la's eyes widened and Antenn's mouth dropped open. The huge redstone fortress towered in walled levels above them, and Straif realized another discussion about Residences was upon them.

"I didn't know it was so huge," Mitch.e.l.la breathed.

"Has to be modeled after one of those old Earth castles," Antenn said. They both looked at Straif.

"It's outside Druida because of the sensitive nature of the Vines' Flair." Straif cudgeled his memory.

"Like SilverFir is on a little island." Antenn nodded. "'Cause they are sometimes empaths."

"Right," Straif said. "I don't know of anyone who has been inside the Vine inner keep-the last D'Vine was so old, and the present T'Vine is so young . . . if anyone was there, it might have been the Hollys. They never mentioned it to me, though."

Mitch.e.l.la nibbled at her lip. "I'm thinking. I know the name of the Earth castle. Funny name, long-Hohozinger, no, um, Hohenzollern. That's it." She smiled. "I read up on the FirstFamily Residences when you hired me." She glanced up the layered hillside. "I didn't pay much attention to this one. It's so unlike T'Blackthorn Residence." The way she said it, Straif knew that she preferred his home. He smiled at her.

"Greetyou," said Vinni T'Vine, near the window beside Straif. The young Lord was surrounded by huge men who eyed Straif suspiciously.

Straif opened the door and stepped out, blocking access to Mitch.e.l.la and Antenn.

One of the men scrutinized him up and down and grunted. "T'Blackthorn?"

"That's right."

Another of the men offered his hand. "We're Vines, Muin's . . . tutors."

"GreatLord Muin T'Vine, Vinni will be safe with me." Narrowing his eyes, Straif looked down at the man's hand. Obviously the guy had Flair that entailed touch-telepathy or empathy, or danger-sense or truth-detector. He grasped the man's hand and sent his own Flair zinging through the contact, keeping all his shields up.

The man jumped back, shook his fingers.

"Can I go now?" Vinni sounded furious.

"Of course," the first man said smoothly. They all took a couple of paces back from the glider. Straif stood aside so Vinni could enter the glider, but kept a wary eye on the bodyguards. When the young Lord was inside, Straif nodded to the men, slid in himself, said the Word to shield the vehicle, then took off.

He watched the men until they faded in the distance.

"Huh," said Antenn.

"What do you mean by that?" Vinni asked.

Antenn shrugged. "Nuthin'." He turned to look out the window as they neared Druida's eastgate. "Seems like whether you stand up to the Clover boys or not, you might like folks your own age. Lots of Clovers in our generation."

"Huh," said Vinni.

When they neared the gate, the guards stepped aside and the glider moved smoothly into the city. "Can you open the windows again, please, Straif?" Mitch.e.l.la asked.

"Of course."

Vinni eyed the gaily wrapped packages. "You have gifts."

"It's my cuz Trif 's nameday," Mitch.e.l.la explained.

"I met her at the New Twinmoons Ritual," Vinni said. His eyebrows dipped. "She has much Flair and will be starting her quest soon."

"Quest, what quest?" asked Antenn.

"That is for her to tell you if she so pleases," Vinni said.

Antenn made a disgusted sound.

With a tinkling pop, a small crystal ball set on a pretty silver stand appeared in Vinni's hands.

Antenn goggled. "You can't do that. Not supposed to be able to 'port things into a moving vehicle."

Straif gave a short laugh. "My father said once that it was disconcerting to see someone of a younger generation do a trick that demonstrated their better Flair. Excellent, T'Vine."

The young Lord glanced up, a flash of vulnerability in his eyes. "Call me Vinni." He gazed down at his gift. "It's a multicrys. To focus her Flair, or form holos to keep, or a calendar globe . . ."

"Good choice," Mitch.e.l.la said. "If you'll give it to me, I'll wrap it."

Vinni blinked at her, but handed over the crystal. Mitch.e.l.la pulled out some iridescent netting and a ribbon from her pursenal, set the stand on the netting, and said, "Nameday wrap." In an instant the netting covered the gift and shimmered so that only tantalizing hints of the present could be seen. The ribbon curled around the gift in an explosion of frills. Vinni stared at it, studied it when Mitch.e.l.la gave it back to him.

A kilometer inside the walls, solidly in the middle-cla.s.s district, the glider began to slow.

"We're near the Clover compound!" Antenn leaned so he could stick his head out the window. Straif could hear the Family from a block away, a muted bubble of happy voices.

Antenn smirked at Vinni. "We'll give our nameday gifts to Trif, then we'll see who's tougher."

"Antenn," Mitch.e.l.la reprimanded, but her smile blossomed as she looked to the square with buildings on three sides. "Two of the green parks around the compound are ours, and we just purchased the parcel of land to the north to make our own grove," she said.

It was mind-boggling. "If you want any trees or brush from my estate, take them. You know I'll be thinning growth."

Her eyes widened. "We could even take some large trees-with your help." She grinned at him. "An even trade."

From her words, he sensed her Family had been less than pleased to help Straif and she'd convinced them. Humiliation kindled in his gut.

Silence draped the glider, and more sounds of jollity came as the vehicle settled at the entrance to the Clover Compound. Antenn hopped out, then held a hand out for Mitch.e.l.la. She slid over and out of the glider. Straif curled his fingers around Vinni's wrist. "Don't open the far door." He smiled grimly. "Security. Follow me out."

Vinni snorted but obeyed.

Straif touched the planter containing his bush, and it rose to bob behind him. Since there were no other vehicles on the street, Straif left the glider where it was.

The door to the compound was partially open. Straif and Vinni shared a disbelieving glance. Vinni straightened his shoulders. "Better get the trouncing over with."

Straif put a hand on his shoulder, squeezed. "Remember this, duck and roll."

Vinni stopped and glanced at him. "That's all the advice you have? Duck and roll?"

"If you've been training-"