Free Heart Search by Robin D. Owens

gone.
    Tiana frowned, tilted her head as if she probed the item with her Flair. “You’re right. I don’t feel much of anything. I wonder why.”
    Mica inhaled lustily. Being in pig stopped smell and other stuff.
    “A pig! Like the animal?” Glyssa asked.
    “Yessss,” Mica said.
    They all stared at her. Camellia pondered how Mica knew what the inside of a pig smelled like and decided not to ask.
    “How do you know how the inside of a pig smells like?” Glyssa asked.
    Love porcine. Plenty of pigs and pig guts on noble estates. As if to punctuate, Mica burped. None of the women had eaten the buffet food, but that obviously hadn’t stopped the cat.
    “Ugh,” Tiana said, took Camellia’s hand, and dumped the small sculpture into it.
    Camellia rubbed a spot that looked like the remnants of an upright ear, studied it, hefted its weight. Mica was wrong, a slight tingle emanated from the raw sculpture. She smiled, let her fingers close over the piece, cradle it. “It’s charming.”
    I did good. Mica purred and leapt gracefully from the counter to trot to another table. When the women joined her, she was clawing at the top of a ragged grayish piece of papyrus rolled as a scroll and tilted against the wall.
    “I’ll get that,” Glyssa said.
    Mica batted her hand away. Is for Tiana. Smells good for her . Mica wrinkled her nose. Incense, maybe.
    “Me?” Tiana asked.
    “Yesss,” Mica said.
    Brows raised, Tiana took the scroll and touched the knot of the grimy string. It fell into her hand and she put it in her pocket. As she unrolled the piece of papyrus, Camellia drew one of the bobbing spell-lights over so they could see better.
    “It’s an architectural drawing,” Tiana said blankly. She tilted her head. “Interesting.”
    “Hmm,” Glyssa said. “The lines are good, the drawing shows promise, but this one isn’t the work of a master. Maybe a journeyman.”
    Unroll all! Mica demanded.
    Propping the scroll on the table, Tiana did.
    Mica tapped a legend in fancy writing that was shakier than the lines.
    “The Turquoise House!” Glyssa said. “A diagram of the layout of the Turquoise House, the House that’s recently become sentient!” She reached avidly for the scroll. Tiana lifted it and the papyrus rerolled; Tiana held it to her chest. “This is mine.”
    “You don’t understand,” Glyssa said. “I don’t think the PublicLibrary has any plans of the Turquoise House and it has been very protective of its privacy.”
    “Very exclusive,” Camellia agreed.
    “Secretive,” Tiana said, lifting her chin. “And I like protecting a house’s secrets. This is mine and I’m keeping it.”
    “At least let me make a copy for the Library.”
    “No.”
    “It won’t even go into the public areas. We’ll archive it.”
    “No. Mine.”
    Look, look! Mica hopped up and down, pointing her red-tipped claws at the scroll.
    They looked. The papyrus had changed, appearing to be heavier and with the tiniest hint of gold along its edges.
    Tiana unrolled it and the drawing was now in multicolored inks. “Oooh. This is pretty, worth framing and hanging on my bedroom wall.”
    “Ti-an-a!” Glyssa shifted from foot to foot, her shoulders hunched. “Please let me—”
    “No.” Tiana rolled the papyrus tight and tapped the middle, fastening it together with a spellword. Then she dropped it into her sleeve pocket.
    Now for Glyssa! Mica said and trotted along the table.
    “How is she doing this?” Glyssa asked. “Finding stuff we didn’t?”
    “I saw the sculpture,” Tiana said, “but it looked like a stone and I didn’t pick it up.”
    “I didn’t see the scroll,” Glyssa grumbled. “I missed it.”
    “Me, too,” Camellia said. If she’d seen it—if any of them had—they would have studied it or given it to Glyssa.
    “It’s rather the same gray as the shadows against the walls,” Tiana agreed.
    “Cat noses and smells,” Glyssa muttered. She walked quickly to where Mica sat, looking like a