Mikoto and the Reaver Village (Amaranthine Saga Book 4)

by Forthright

  “Kyrie isn’t any old ward.”

  “You’re weighing in on his assessment?”

  Salali peered at him from under a drooping brim. “I could. If anyone bothered to ask.”

  “I’m asking.”

  “Your brother’s improvisation amounts to a trap.” The squirrel gestured broadly. “He’s weaponized an entire forest, and your dragon friend cannot escape.”

  “That’s … impressive.”

  “That’s an ambuscade for you.”

  Ginkgo was catching something faint, and he didn’t think it was crystal resonance. But Salali’s remark distracted him. “Ambuscade. Is that a subclass?”

  “Obsolete ward class,” said Salali with a wry twist of a smile. “Not the sort of thing you’d find on an academy syllabus. We had one of our own, back at Wardenclave’s founding. Hemet was a good man.”

  “You’re going to have to tell me. I’m way out of this loop.”

  “Hemet could use crystals as a focus. The destructive force of his soul scattered Wardenclave’s attackers. And in a few memorable instances, he ended them.”

  Ginkgo’s ears snapped forward. “What?”

  “Reavers of the ambuscade classification are killers.”

  “My brother’s not a killer!”

  “I am talking about skill sets, not wholesale slaughter.” Salali tapped Ginkgo’s nose. “Hemet was a good man. Kyrie is a good boy.”

  Calming enough to think, Ginkgo caught another fragment of a melody. “What am I hearing?” he asked. “Is that someone … singing?”

  Salali pushed back his hat, unseating Gent. “You have good ears. This sort of thing happens in high places.”

  “Where’s it coming from?” It wasn’t easy to see past the overlapping sigils of Wardenclave’s barriers.

  “High above the blue. Much harder to see them, this time of day.” Salali’s smile was a jaunty thing. “Around these parts, the stars like to sing.”

  Just then, a pale blur streaked past. “What was that?”

  “A wolf.”

  Ginkgo wasn’t sure he liked that the wolf was heading straight Kyrie’s way. “Should I be worried?”

  Salali huffed and started running again. “You have a more suspicious nature than you let on.”

  “Let’s call it a protective streak.”

  “First off, when the stars sing of peace, there’s nothing to fear.”

  Ginkgo was ready to pile skeptical and cynical on top of his suspicious nature. “Like to see for myself, thank you very much.”

  Salali grinned at him. “Second, the wolf wouldn’t be inside my barriers if he wasn’t a friend.”

  They picked up the pace and soon burst into a clearing. The wolf—who had all the markings of a crosser—was already there, standing at the center, tail low and twitchy, arms open wide.

  Ginkgo skidded to a halt at the same moment Sinder streaked out of cover and collided with the wolf, whose tail lifted into a relieved sway.

  “Moon! What are you doing here?” exclaimed Sinder. “Scratch that. Don’t care. You’re here!”

  “Take a deep breath,” growled the wolf. “Why are you afraid?”

  “The kid’s terrifying. Got me good.” Hiding his face against the wolf’s chest, he mumbled, “Shit, that was freaky.”

  Timur and Mikoto, astride Fend, crashed into the clearing, all three looking harried. A handful of other battlers found their way into the open. Shouldering their weapons, they adopted receptive postures. All eyes were focused on the newcomer. Staring.

  “Moon?” whispered Ginkgo.

  “Moon-kin Ambervelte,” Salali supplied. “Radiance’s brother. He’s Kith-kin.”

  “He and Sinder seem close.”

  “Fancy that.”

  Meanwhile, Sinder babbled on. “He’s perfect. You need to get a message to Boon. The rogue’s handed us our chance.”

  Ginkgo swore.

  “His own kids could be the key.”

  Moon gently covered the lower half of Sinder’s face, hushing him. But it was too late to call back his words.

  Ginkgo stifled a groan when his little brother slipped out of the shadow of a tree. He probably should have called out, but Kyrie’s cool dignity silenced the entire gathering.

  “I would like to know, please.” Red eyes swept every face, and his words held the faintest lilt of power. “Who is the rogue?”

  FIFTY-TWO

  Family and Familiar Faces

  Mikoto wasn’t sure what was going on, so he lined up with a few of the other battlers, lowered his eyes and took a receptive posture. Awaiting orders. Presumably from Timur.

  Only that’s not how it worked out.

  “Come away, Kyrie.” Timur’s voice was thick with emotion.

  The boy submitted without a word, lifting his arms. Timur gathered him up, speaking to him in an undertone while setting him on Fend’s back. They fled the clearing together.

  Reveille arrived with a young wolf, both breathless and agitated. They singled out Salali and hurried to confer with him. When Moon bundled Sinder away, Mikoto resigned himself to a long walk home.

  But then Ginkgo was right in front of him, up on tiptoe, brimming with urgency. “Mikoto. I know you have your own stuff going on, but can I borrow you?”

  “What do you need?”

  “Long story.” He glanced around, shook his head, and muttered, “Guess I’m your ride.”

  Before Mikoto could frame a diplomatic protest, Reveille hurried over. “Allow me?”

  “You sure?” Ginkgo checked.

  “I insist.” So saying, Reveille transformed, lowering himself to his belly.

  Mikoto murmured his thanks and swung up behind the half-fox.

  Once Reveille settled into an easy lope, Ginkgo leaned back into Mikoto’s chest and asked, “How much do you know about the rogue?”

  “Almost nothing.” Mikoto said, “I am sure my father kept apprised of the situation, but there has been little time to ….”

  “Of course,” interrupted Ginkgo. He twisted enough to place his hand over Mikoto’s heart. “I’m an idiot for forgetting. Sorry.”

  He shook his head. “All I really know is that Wardenclave is safe.”

  “Okay. Short version.” Ginkgo’s ears flattened to either side. “Uncooperative dragons are almost impossible to track, catch, and keep. The rogue is a murderer and a rapist, and Kyrie just found out that monster’s his sire.”

  Mikoto slowly inclined his head. “Understood.”

  Ginkgo faced forward and slumped into him. “Not the nicest of lineages.”

  He grunted.

  “Which is where you come in.”

  “What can I do?”

  “I found out today that your mother’s a Hajime.” Ginkgo dredged up a wan smile. “So was Kyrie’s birth mother. So was mine, for that matter.”

  “Are we related?”

  “Probably distantly. But I’m hoping Kyrie will take comfort in the connection.”

  “Better me than the rogue?”

  “That’s the idea.” Ginkgo quietly asked, “Do you mind?”

  Mikoto shook his head. “I am more than happy to claim you both.”

  Kyrie didn’t trust himself to speak, so he retreated into silence. Evading Waaseyaa’s gaze, he escaped into the guest room, hiding under the coverlet. He downed Timur’s tea without complaint, and he turned his face to the wall.

  By some miracle, Timur let him be, and the door clicked shut behind him.

  If only it could last. Kyrie didn’t want anyone. Except perhaps Ever. Ever would cry for him and hold him and promise him that everything would be all right.

  “Merciful dragon?” came a tentative voice.

  Kyrie reluctantly turned to face Zisa.

  With a soft noise of distress, the tree joined him on the bed. Swiping with his thumbs, Zisa chased the tears that Kyrie couldn’t hold back any longer. He sobbed, and the tree gathered him up, cradling and rocking and crooning. And even though Kyrie had been so sur
e a moment ago that he wanted solitude, he clung gratefully to Zisa.

  “I want Dad,” he admitted brokenly. “I want my dad.”

  Zisa went still and turned his head. “Someone new is coming.”

  Kyrie’s heart leapt, even though it couldn’t possibly be his father. He dared to ask, “A fox?”

  “No.” With a kiss to soften the blow, Zisa whispered, “Do you want me to help you hide?”

  “Please?”

  An instant later, Kyrie was outdoors, surrounded by rustling leaves. “That is a good trick.”

  Zisa smiled. “I know.”

  They were in some kind of shallow nest, high enough in Zisa’s branches that they were swaying slightly. Breezes found him, their caresses filled with gentle questions, and his nose cleared enough that he could smell the flowers hidden among the leaves.

  From far below, a sharp exclamation carried.

  Soothing tones had to be Waaseyaa.

  And then the winds brought words. Waaseyaa said, “If you wish to climb, here are rungs.”

  “If I must. Will your twin mind?”

  Kyrie sat up a little straighter, startled to hear such a familiar voice in this place.

  “Allow me,” countered another person. “I have a message to deliver, and I will invite Kyrie to join you inside.”

  His heart took to thudding.

  “Should we run?” asked Zisa. “I have many hiding places.”

  Kyrie swallowed hard and shook his head. “It will be okay.”

  “Pardon me,” called a rising voice. “May I have a word, please?”

  “We are here,” Kyrie replied, his voice crackling.

  Gently lifting aside leaves, Hisoka Twineshaft joined them on the branch.

  FIFTY-THREE

  News from Home

  Ginkgo drew up short on the threshold. “Lapis? I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “I did not know myself.” Draped decorously upon a kitchen chair with Mikoto’s dog cradled to his chest and Rifflet coiled at his throat, Lapis lifted a teacup in salute. “Who is your friend? And why has Kyrie marked him?”

  Mikoto glanced down at himself. “Me, too?”

  Lapis beckoned languidly. “Elbow. Achilles tendon. And a cheeky brand upon your … back pocket.”

  “Me, too. As in other sigils?” Ginkgo took Mikoto’s arm and squinted at the tiny tracer. “Who else am I going to have to frisk?”

  “Timur and Fend. And Sinder, of course.”

  The sigils dispelled at a touch, which was almost a shame. They were as cute as they were diabolical. “Lapis, were you sent to check on Sinder?” Ginkgo could see Juuyu demanding it.

  “No, no. That privilege belongs to Moon.”

  “Tenma, then?”

  Lapis arched his brows. “I am greatly looking forward to seeing my apprentice again. But … no.”

  Reeling a hand to hurry him along, Ginkgo wearily demanded, “What brings you to the heart of Wardenclave, O, illustrious one?”

  “I am here in Argent’s place.”

  Ginkgo’s stomach plunged. “What happened to Dad? Is he all right? Did he take off somewhere? Is Mom alone?”

  Lapis set aside his tea and raised a quelling finger. “Argent is dealing with a delicate task for Hisoka’s sake. I am here in his place to attend Mikoto Reaver’s induction as the new headman of Wardenclave.”

  Ginkgo wasn’t satisfied. Not when delicate tasks could easily be dangerous ones. “Where. Is. Dad?”

  “California.”

  Okay, that was unexpected. “Why?”

  Flicking a glance at Mikoto, Lapis sighed but answered. “The fourth of the Junzi was finally located in a private collection. Argent is personally overseeing its transfer to a more secure location. Once he is satisfied, he will undoubtedly drop by.”

  “Oh. That’s all right, then.”

  “Promising, even.”

  Ginkgo rubbed at his face. “Glad you’re here. Seriously. Rough morning. Little bro just found out.”

  Lapis’ low warble conveyed concern.

  “I thought Timur was bringing him here.” Ginkgo had been so sure Kyrie was here. But he’d probably passed right under him. “He’s with Zisa?”

  “Taken aloft. Or so we were told.” With a confident wave toward the ceiling, Lapis added, “Hisoka will fetch him down.”

  “Hisoka-sensei’s here?” Pointless question. Dragging out a chair, Ginkgo slumped into it. “Where’s Waaseyaa. And everyone else, for that matter.”

  “Next door, I believe. There was some excitement. I was invited—rather pointedly—to make myself at home here.” Lapis smiled serenely. “Now, before I broach any other potentially sensitive topics … who is your friend?”

  Mikoto stepped forward and offered both a bow and his palms. “Lord Mossberne, welcome to Wardenclave. It will be an honor to have you in attendance at my induction.”

  Kyrie wasn’t sure how to react to Hisoka Twineshaft’s arrival. Sensei visited Stately House fairly often, but he spent most of his time in meetings with other members of the Amaranthine Council. What leisure hours he stole were passed in the company of Michael, Deece, or Jacques. Not with the children. So while Sensei’s was a familiar face, Kyrie was used to seeing him from a distance.

  “Hello, Zisa.” Hisoka stooped to look him in the eye. “I apologize for not offering my greeting sooner.”

  Given Hisoka-sensei’s history of standoffishness, the form that greeting took surprised Kyrie.

  Zisa, too. The tree touched his lips and gasped, “He kissed me!”

  “He did,” agreed Kyrie.

  “It is so backward.” Zisa’s delight edged his tone with laughter. “Usually, I have to begin.”

  Hisoka took a seat on the branch, feet swinging free, one elbow propped on the nest’s edge. With traces of a smile, he quietly revealed, “I was raised in one of the eldermost groves.”

  “Do you like trees?” Zisa asked hopefully.

  “More than I let on,” Hisoka said in a conspiratorial tone. Then the spokesperson for the cat clans said, “Hello, Kyrie.”

  He lowered his gaze, suddenly self-conscious about his tearstained face.

  “A friend told me you were sad,” said Hisoka. “I came as quickly as I could.”

  Kyrie’s curiosity was caught. “Who told?”

  “His name is Celestoria Novi, and we are old, old friends.” His hands formed a plea for secrecy, but he went on without waiting for a response. “Childhood friends. Perhaps a little like you and Miss Lilya, since we are rarely far from one another.”

  “The star?”

  Hisoka inclined his head.

  This was new information. And interesting enough to loosen Kyrie’s tongue. “Does anyone know?”

  A small headshake. “Not even your father.”

  “Is your star the reason you know so much?”

  “Novi is certainly part of it.” Hisoka ran a hand over the top of his head. “However, I cannot deny that I have always been … inquisitive.”

  Kyrie was impressed. And confused. “Why tell me?”

  “Is it truly telling if the secret has already stepped out of hiding?” Gentling his tone, he added, “Argent intended to reveal your secret at midwinter.”

  Ginkgo had said as much. That Kyrie was old enough to know. That Dad had wanted the responsibility. “Then why are you here?” Instead of Dad. Instead of Mom. Instead of Ginkgo.

  “Because it was needful.” Hisoka delighted Zisa by taking the tree’s hand. “I am always where I need to be.”

  Not exactly what he’d been asking, but also very interesting. How was that even possible? Finally, Kyrie said, “That must be nice.”

  “Not always.” Hisoka confessed, “Sometimes there are places I would prefer to go, even though doing so might not be for the best.”

  “So you did not want to be here?” Kyrie kept back the rest of his thought. With me.

  Flared eyebrows shot up. “Not so. I am glad to be here. And I know that because I am here, th
is is the most important place I can be right now. Perhaps it would be better to say that there are times when I wish I could be in more than one place at once.”

  Increasingly intrigued, Kyrie asked, “You needed to talk to me?”

  “Certainly. But not solely. I am rarely in one place for one reason. For instance, we are here—at least in part—because the stars have gathered to sing.”

  Perhaps hearing stars was a little bit like hearing the wind. Kyrie whispered to Zisa, “I do not hear anything. Do you?”

  “Tonight,” said the tree. “There will be a chorus tonight.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Glint Starmark is much-loved.” Zisa stroked Kyrie’s hair. “Because a promise is kept. Because a son is given.”

  A son? Before Kyrie could ask for particulars, Hisoka-sensei interrupted.

  “Kyrie, I made a promise to Ever Starmark. He would not let me leave Keishi until I swore a solemn oath to find you.”

  “Oh. Is that why you are here?”

  “Did I not mention I have many reasons for being where I am? I am sure I did.”

  Kyrie missed Ever. So much. “He is my best friend.”

  “Something he made abundantly clear.” From an unassuming pouch at his waist, Hisoka withdrew a phone. Tapping lightly upon its screen, he passed it to Kyrie. It was already making the soft tones of an attempted connection. The name of the call’s intended recipient made Kyrie’s heart leap into his throat—Laud Starmark.

  Laud lived with Ever and Quen at Kikusawa Shrine in Keishi. But it wasn’t Uncle Laud who answered the call.

  “Kyrie? Is it you, Kyrie?”

  “I am here.”

  “Sensei’s good! And fast! I knew he’d do his best. Is Lilya there, too?”

  “She is … nearby.” Kyrie could tell she was below, but he wasn’t sure which of the buildings she was in. Looking into the tree’s sparkling eyes, he said, “I am with Zisa.”

  Leaning closer, the tree cooed, “Hello.”

  “I know that name from Da. Hi! Umm … so you’ll both have to tell Lilya later, but I gotta tell you now! I’m an uncle!”

  “Is that so?” Hugging the phone to his ear, Kyrie closed his eyes, greedy for every inflection of Ever’s voice.