Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox (Amaranthine Saga Book 1)
Page 31
“Are you all right?” Michael turned her to face him, holding her at arms’ length as he searched her face and exuding fatherly concern. “You haven’t been yourself. Did something happen?”
“Did Hisoka-sensei send you?” she asked bitterly.
“Not in so many words. But with Sensei, the smallest gestures speak volumes.”
There was so much she didn’t understand about Argent’s people. And ignorance frightened her.
“Look at me, young lady.”
The unfamiliar note of authority startled Tsumiko, and she met Michael’s gaze.
He said, “Sansa and I adore our Sensei, and it’s been a distinct pleasure mingling with the clan leaders, but I will make myself clear. You are ours. And as family, you are first in our thoughts and our priorities.”
“Thank you.”
“I may be the chauffeur, but I’m currently the closest thing you have to a mentor. So take advantage. Pick my brain. Raise your concerns. Ask my advice.” Michael gave her shoulders a small squeeze. “Talk to me, Tsumiko.”
“Why did the Four really come?” she asked. “Nobody ever cared that Argent was suffering here for ages and ages, but suddenly, he’s prized and needed.”
Michael hesitated. “I would be flattering myself if I said Sensei came for my sake. He wouldn’t say he needs Argent if that weren’t so. But Hisoka Twineshaft kept me close, and my cares often became his concern. Sensei promised to help, and here he is.”
Tsumiko shook her head. “So it’s a token position?”
“Not at all. You heard Sensei’s reasoning.” Michael gently released her and guided her to a chair. He knelt before her. “Argent would be an excellent addition to the Five.”
“I don’t mean any offense, but I don’t know … much. Are you sure Hisoka doesn’t want Argent because he’ll owe him?” Tsumiko quietly added, “That would be trading one kind of bondage for another.”
“Impossible,” Michael said firmly.
“Then what? He’s diverting all his resources out of the goodness of his heart?”
“Equally impossible.” Michael chuckled. “I doubt anyone’s ever been able to completely figure out why Hisoka-sensei does anything. But there’s always a reason. Always. Even if it doesn’t come to light for a long time.”
Tsumiko frowned. “You and Sansa both make him sound wise and good.”
Sitting back on his heels, Michael said, “You know, the wolves may call him Poesy, but his own people call him Prophet.”
“Why?”
“It’s eerie how often he knows things he shouldn’t.” He offered a small shrug. “Sensei is the closest thing to omniscient you’ll find this side of heaven.”
. . .
Again that night, Tsumiko kept Kyrie, even though there was room enough in Lilya’s crib. The nursery was freshly warded, but she wanted to hold him close—maybe even needed the closeness—but her nightly vigils were taking their toll. She ached with exhaustion, unable to sleep. Mired in worries, Tsumiko held the tiny charm on her necklace so tightly, the shape might cause a permanent indentation.
A cross and a crossroads.
Her plans and purposes had seemed grand and good … until Hisoka Twineshaft strolled into Stately House with a scheme of his own. One that would give Argent everything he’d lost. One that would take him away.
She’d been willing to die to set him free, but she didn’t want to live without him. And so her conscience stung. No, it stabbed. Because her reluctance was an obstacle, and removing it would mean exposing the true state of her heart. For all her noble words, she was as bad as all of Argent’s other mistresses. And they would find out.
She was keenly aware of the Amaranthine who lingered around her home. Without even trying, she could tell that the wolf and dog were rampaging through the nearby woods. That the cat was on the roof, probably on the high turret overlooking the sea. And that the dragon was somewhere below, probably in Michael’s office, poring over their research.
The only one she couldn’t locate was the one she wanted most, but Tsumiko bit her lip, holding back the whisper that would bring Argent unerringly to her side. She refused to put demands on him with so many other Amaranthine present. To betray his secrets. To diminish him in their eyes.
A light knock stirred her from increasingly melancholy thoughts. “I’m awake,” she called.
Argent let himself in. “Lilya woke. Sansa asked that I bring Kyrie so she can tend to him as well.”
“Oh. Yes.”
He collected the baby but didn’t turn away. “Have you slept?”
“A little.”
“Tsk.”
“Sorry,” she whispered. He always did know when she was lying.
“I will only be a minute,” he said. “Wait for me.”
Tsumiko ducked under her covers, a childish impulse. Comforters and coverlets wouldn’t hide her gladness from Argent’s all-knowing nose. His heightened senses made everything easier, yet somehow more complicated, since she was having trouble untangling her wants from her needs. It was as if her head and her heart were at war, and no matter which prevailed, she could lose something precious.
Was it possible for Argent to have a clearer picture of her feelings than she did? If so, did that mean that all the Amaranthine here knew more than they were telling?
The mattress dipped, and the blankets folded away, leaving Tsumiko feeling exposed. But when Argent offered a hand, she took it in both of hers. His touch steadied her.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked.
“Mights and maybes.”
Argent’s brows rose. “Why are you engaging such feeble foes?”
She had no good answer for that. “What’s going to happen?”
“I cannot guess.”
Clearly, good answers weren’t easy to come by. Tsumiko tugged at his hand, a silent plea.
He stretched out atop the blankets, leaning close. “What are you afraid of?” he repeated.
Where to start? “What if they fail?”
“Then we will know that what has been done cannot be undone by human—or inhuman—means. And you shall have to apply to heaven for a miracle.” Argent’s light tone sobered somewhat. “If Twineshaft fails, little changes. I will remain yours.”
Tsumiko dared to ask, “What if they succeed?”
He searched her face closely. “Does the prospect frighten you?”
“A little?” she ventured, hardly sure herself.
“And why is that?”
This is where everything tangled. “What if the bond is affecting your ... your attitude toward me? What if you change? What if you go back to hating me?”
Argent acknowledged her fears without a trace of reproach. “That had occurred to me as well. But I would be greatly surprised if such a change were possible.”
She didn’t like to say it, but she couldn’t shy away from the facts that fed her fears. “You already underwent such a change, since you hated me at the beginning.”
“Did I? I suppose I may have given that impression.”
Understatement indeed. “You didn’t like me, Argent. At all.”
“I did not know you,” he corrected mildly. “But I did not hate you.”
“You lied?”
“So it would seem.” If anything, he looked amused.
Could she trust someone so fond of evasion, so capable of deception? Tsumiko wanted to. And so she needed to hear the whole truth. “What if they ask you to go with them?”
“That all depends,” he hedged. “They cannot have me if they cannot free me, and their capacity for miracles remains suspect.”
“But if you could go, would you?” she pressed.
“Twineshaft’s offer is appealing. Given a choice, I would accept.”
He would go. Which brought her to another crux. “Even
if I stayed here?”
“Have our prestigious guests and their splendid plans for me distracted you from the matters already settled between us?” Argent stroked her hair. “You are my choice. Our home is here. Where else would we stay?”
Tsumiko tried to remember why she’d been so worried. “What if my selfishness keeps Hisoka-sensei and the others from setting you free?”
He nuzzled her cheek. “You want me that badly? I am flattered.”
“I’m serious.”
“I am similarly intent. Come what may, you will not be rid of me.”
She relaxed enough to find him exasperating. “We set a condition,” she reminded. “I can only accept your proposal if you’re freed.”
“Hence my willingness to endure the presence of our four uninvited guests. But no matter the outcome, I shall have my way.” Argent’s tails settled around her. “Even if my enslavement persists, I fully intend to seduce you.”
An oddly comforting sentiment.
Argent voice took on a coaxing lilt. “You have been too listless for my liking. Let me tend you.”
Which might have been true. Or it might have been a ploy, for Argent did not relent until her lips parted under his. Slow kisses and sly asides. Nestled warmth and needful questions. Mingled souls and whispered prayers.
Dawn found Tsumiko feeling more herself in heart, soul, mind, and strength. Surely there was a larger purpose to everything that had happened, a vast and complicated confluence. Somehow, everything would work together for good, and not simply her good. More than one person’s happiness was at stake. So she would keep her promises and trust the rest to those with the benefit of omniscience—heaven and Hisoka.
SIXTY FOUR
Risk and Dare
The following morning, Sansa announced that breakfast would be served outdoors, at the express invitation of Harmonious Starmark, who had apparently found sufficient prey in their woods to found a feast. Calm enough to be curious, Tsumiko dressed for bitter weather and worked her way to the garden’s edge, where Argent stood upon the low stone wall, arms folded over his chest as he peered at the beach below.
She could smell the smoke now, warm on the wind. “This is hardly picnic weather.”
“Having a human bondmate, Starmark knows better.” Argent shook his head. “Even so, dogs will dance. And cats will play.”
Tsumiko leaned over the wall for a better look. They’d dragged a section of Gingko’s driftwood barrier away from the rest and built a bonfire on the sand. Hisoka Twineshaft stood with his nephew, leaning on his staff as he watched the dog and wolf, whose race across the cove turned the sea into spray. “It’s hard to image Hisoka-sensei playing. Unless it was an instrument.”
“Oh, he plays, and with great skill.” Argent’s eyes narrowed. “I cannot decide if I should be annoyed or impressed by our virtuoso’s latest consideration.”
“What’s he done?”
Harmonious and Adoona-soh’s wild romp veered close to shore, and Michael raised some sort of barrier to keep the fountain of icy water from dousing the fire. That was when Tsumiko realized that there was an extra figure on the beach.
Argent bent to offer his hand. “Come, my lady. I do not want you to slip on the stairs in your haste to greet our guest.”
Moments later, he set her upon snow-dusted sand, staying close enough to keep contact as a newcomer turned from where Gingko and Lapis were busy skewering strips of meat—possibly boar—and spitting the carcasses of smaller game.
“You’re here?” she asked.
Naroo-soh Elderbough dropped to one knee and offered his palms. “Do you doubt your eyes? Here, then. Touch my hands. Come to my side.” To Argent, he cheerfully added, “I said we would meet again.”
“You spoke true.” Argent gave Tsumiko a gentle push in Naroo-soh’s direction. “A trait I can appreciate.”
And with some oblique permission granted, the wolf claimed Tsumiko’s hands and drew her close, as if to shelter her from the brisk wind coming off the water. “May I greet you in the manner of my people?”
“Will it make Argent growl?”
Naroo-soh gave a deep, rasp-edged laugh. “I cannot imagine why, since I intend to greet him in much the same manner.”
Tsumiko glanced back, and Argent rolled his eyes. And so the Elderbough heir kissed her forehead. Argent went through the formalities of welcome, but his gaze never left her face, as if her response was more important than the wolf’s.
Oddly enough, Argent didn’t seem bothered when Naroo-soh gathered her up, then settled her on his lap. He simply brought over one of the blankets that had been warming by the fire and tucked it around her, then bent to accept the wolf’s promised kiss.
“When did he send for you?” asked Argent.
“He?” countered the wolf. “Everyone knows I am at Mother’s beck and call.”
“Tsk.”
“Last night.” Naroo-soh nodded in Hisoka’s direction. “He hinted that your lady might welcome the support of friends. And I was not opposed to a reunion.”
Tsumiko asked, “Are Risk and Dare with you?”
“Your Kith cat is toying with my traveling companions near the front gate—Risk, Dare, and my daughter.”
She turned enough to see his face. “You have a little girl?”
“A daughter and three sons.” He rested his chin atop her head. “But it has been many decades since Feloor fit so neatly on my lap.”
“You miss nestling with her?” she asked.
“Not at the moment,” he said, his tone warm. “And not for much longer. My lady carries another cub close to her heart.”
Argent murmured flowery phrases of congratulation.
Maybe this was why Argent didn’t mind Naroo-soh getting so close. The wolf had a bondmate, unlike Hisoka and Lapis, who were bachelors. Crouched beside them, balanced on the balls of his feet, Argent radiated nothing but bored hauteur.
Tsumiko said, “I’d like to meet your daughter.”
“Easily arranged. And how is your son?”
“We named him Kyrie.”
“We? Tsk.” Argent touched her hair and tugged her hat more firmly into place. “His name and its story are yours.”
“Not entirely,” she protested. “Since you added Mettlebright to his name.”
Eyes alight, Naroo-soh offered flowery phrases of congratulation.
Cousins and crossers. Territories and traditions. As their conversation drifted from one topic to the next, Tsumiko gradually became aware of their eavesdroppers. Some were more subtle than others. Like Harmonious and Adoona-soh, who had ceased their capering to sprawl upon the shoreline, a pair of furry windbreaks with pricked ears. But Lapis watched with open interest as he licked blood from his claws.
Hisoka stood aside with eyes downcast, but the hint of a smile touching his lips left Tsumiko feeling vaguely patronized. But mostly grateful.
This was his doing. And it was good.
. . .
The next time Hisoka approached, he contrived to be thoroughly outnumbered. Tsumiko was in a proprietary pile-up, snug between Argent and Gingko on the latter’s kitchen sofa, with Risk and Dare warming her feet. The rest of the wolves were out on patrol, but Harmonious had remained back, ostensibly to make faces at Lilya while Sansa bathed her in the kitchen sink.
Most of Tsumiko’s attention belonged to Kyrie. He was fresh from his own bath, and she was rubbing oil into his skin, paying special attention to his supple scales. “Like this?” she murmured.
Argent huffed. “He has no complaints.”
“Now.” Gingko tapped the little guy’s nose. “He hollered plenty while Sansa was washing his hair.”
“Maybe the water was too hot?” Tsumiko gently stroked Kyrie’s temple, and he gurgled, his eyes half-lidded in contentment.
“Too cold, I should think.” Hisoka st
ayed well back, and he offered an apologetic gesture for interrupting. “Since he is part dragon.”
Argent inclined his head. “Kyrie may well have a better tolerance for heat than for cold.”
“Perhaps we should consult with an expert on such matters?” Stepping to one side, Hisoka raised his voice to include the person loitering at the table, his fingers tangled around a squat mug of tea. “Well, Lapis?”
The dragon spokesperson tucked his chin guiltily, as if he’d been caught snitching pastries from the pantry. He glared rebelliously at Hisoka. “I have never claimed to be an expert in the care or tending of hatchlings.”
Harmonious chuckled. “Stars above, Mossberne. I can understand why you’re fuzzy on details, but the boy wasn’t hatched.”
“It is a figure of speech,” Lapis muttered sulkily.
“Kyrie is part dragon,” said Hisoka. “Does that not mean you speak for him, Lapis?”
“You already have my promise where crossers are concerned.” Lapis’ gaze flicked briefly to Tsumiko’s. “I willingly accept responsibility for all persons of dragon heritage.”
Argent spoke up. “Will you take a look, then? You must be curious. And I know you would not harm a child I consider my own.”
“Do not think it of me!” Lapis’ hands flew through six forms of what must have been urgent denial. Still, he hesitated. “If your lady permits, I would approach with the utmost respect for the life she ….” Here, Lapis swallowed hard and weakly finished, “She tends.”
“Oh,” she breathed, finally seeing past the worries that had blinded her. “Please come over here, Spokesperson Mossberne. I have so many questions about dragons.”
He moved so fast, his chair clattered to the floor. But he stopped short, dropping to his knees and creeping forward like a beggar before royalty.
Gingko frowned and slid from the couch, crawling to meet him partway. Brazenly poking Lapis’ cheek, he asked, “What’s with this face? Are you getting all moony over Tsumiko again?”