Hearts and Stones - Robin D. Owens Page 0,86

as punctuation, and his hopes plummeted. The building. This place had become intelligent, as happened to some after a couple of centuries.

Lady and Lord. He couldn’t send the House to get help. And it sure wasn’t hooked into the network of intelligent dwellings, Houses and Residences, or it would know of Fams.

Hope left him and the chill pain of his body returned. He closed his blind eyes, let dampness ease the aching dry.

Greet you. Hello. Debris and detritus. Please respond, mobile being ... man.

The odd phrase rang through his head, debris and detritus, usually leftover stuff after he’d finished a treasure hunt. Usually swept out to sea ... or claimed by small ocean beings as dwellings. Odd bits that floated away.

Couldn’t stay helpless on his back, he scooted to a pillar a few centimeters beyond the fireplace, propped himself against the column. Not an ungodly amount of pain, though his back did crackle during movement.

The sound of rustling surrounded him.

Finally, he croaked aloud, “Debris and Detritus?”

YES! That is me!

Definitely a telepathic voice, maybe not a hallucination, since he would never have imagined that phrase. Eh, he could talk until the last of the pain subsided, take the brooch and leave.

“Debris and detritus is you?” His voice sounded harsh and with an edge.

Yes! Another creak punctuated the word.

“Why Debris and Detritus?” Everyone else on the planet had botanical names, following the lead of the FirstFamily colonists who’d paid for the starships and the trip. Those colonists had formed the culture after what they knew of the Celts--and the twenty-five sacred trees.

But the House replied, My former person ... people ... one, two, three, four ... no, only three, I think. One, then two. They were scholars and studied ... studied legends. Ancient legends of the foreland. The place not here.

“Ancient Earth?”

Yes! That place, and a place of that planet, Greece.

Zane grunted. He knew a multitude of legends, but barely recalled those.

This notion of planets is odd.

His throat tickled as Zane began to answer and he coughed. His chest hurt, felt a little soggy. Not good. “The humans, ah, mobile sentient beings like myself, originated on the planet Earth and came through space from there to here, this planet we named Celta.”

The atmosphere around him thickened with heavy silence.

What am I?

“You are a House. Capital ‘h’ because you are becoming intelligent--that is, self-aware and able to communicate in a rational manner with other sentient beings.”

Oh. A House. Long pause. What IS a House? Or a house?

“A house is a building made by we mobile creatures to protect us. A dwelling.”

I have a purpose! To protect a Family.

“That’s right. From what I know of houses becoming Residences," he cleared his throat where the damp fog had congealed, "HeartStones are placed when people--ah--mobile beings, want their homes to become sentient. The stones are blessed and, ah, given energy during rituals and such," he pulled a hand out of a warm pocket to wave vaguely, though he didn't know whether the House could sense the gesture, unless by a ruffling of his atmosphere. "And after a time a critical mass of energy or knowledge or spirit or something, sparks, and you, ah, become conscious and intelligent." Sounded good to him.

So I was WANTED.

"So I believe."

And as Debris and Detritus contemplated that in silence, Zane understood, he, too, had been blessed. His chill lips curved in a self-mocking smile. He’d been more than blessed. He’d been arrogant. Had considered all the blessings of his life--his Flair, his career, his sight as his due as a member of a Family who’d become noble within the first three decades of landing on Celta.

What is a Fam?

“A Fam is an intelligent animal companion who bonds with a person. Cats. Foxes. Dogs. Raccoons, I think, a couple of birds.”

Animals.

“Yes.”

I know of this. A pause. Not humans and usually smaller and not bipedal.

“Usually smaller. Think a horse or two has become a Fam.” Gradually, he began to stretch his muscles, test them, especially his back as he sat up straight, shoulders over hips. Easy does it.

I am Debris and Detritus, the House said with a note of confidence not formerly in its tones.

“Greet you.” If he licked his lips, the cold would crack them, but his mouth was dry. He rubbed a hand across it. “I am Zane Aster, of the GraceLady Aster Family.” Though the lowest of the noble ranks, ‘Grace,’ the early founding of his Family gave them better status. “And Debris and Detritus is a mouthful of a