Tamiko and the Two Janitors (Amaranthine Saga Book 3)

by Forthright

  “You make it sound like all we have to do is be nice.”

  Ash said, “That’s about right.”

  “But what about all the bullies and brats?”

  “Leave them to our go-between. And leave Flootie and Harrison to Kip.” His fingers gently sifted through her hair. “By the time he’s done, the two of them will be arm-wrestling for the privilege of walking you down the aisle. No holds barred. No hard feelings.”

  Because tonight they were tackling the next item on Argent Mettlebright’s formidable checklist—choose your allies wisely.

  Ash nodded toward the bright lights spilling from Archer’s community center. “Ready to go inside?”

  “No holds barred. No hard feelings.” She kissed his cheek and said, “Let’s play some bingo.”

  “G-11.”

  Inside, most folks were too focused on their bingo cards to pay any mind to a couple of late comers, but Flootie had been watching. She waved one arm wildly, pointing at the stage with the other. Kip was up front, already in position for a round of Rivven trivia.

  Bingo balls tumbled in their wire cage, and one dropped through the chute. “N-23,” called the head of the PTA. She scanned the room over her reading glasses. “N-23.”

  Ash muttered, “He’s always wanted to play. Harrison must have been taking volunteers.”

  “Unfair advantage, don’t you think?”

  “B-07.”

  “Bingo!” shrieked a woman near the concession stands. Her friends all pointed, in case anyone missed her windmilling arms.

  One of the volunteers, whose Lions Club vest jingled with pins, made his way over, and Harrison grabbed the microphone. “While Dan confirms Miss Patty’s win, we’ll have another round of Amaranthine trivia, sponsored in part by our friends at the Perch County Office of Ingress. Kip’s already volunteered for this round. Who’s game? We have room for two more!”

  Hands went up all over the room.

  Tami laughed when Grandad was pulled from the crowd. He could probably give Kip a run for his money on facts, if not speed. This might be funny.

  Ash raised his voice. “Over here, Harrison. Let Tami strut her stuff.”

  Her attendance clerk broke into a wide smile. “As I live and breathe, Principal Reaverson, would you do us the honor?”

  Under cover of Archer’s very vocal approval, Ash spoke into Tami’s ear. “Homefield advantage. You can be Kimiko tonight.”

  She laughed. “I’m really much better at being myself.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  The next fifteen minutes was a bizarre cross between a gameshow and a talk show, with Harrison at the helm. Once more, Tami had the sense that she was in the middle of a skit for which she’d never seen the script. And it was fun.

  “What’s the name of the first headman of the village at Wardenclave, a man whose surname became his legacy to the In-between?”

  Bells dinged in near-perfect unison. Kip must be taking it easy on them. He even deferred to Grandad, who answered confidently. “Gerard Reaver.”

  “Correct!” Harrison straightened his bowtie. “Gerard Reaver is the reason that human Betweeners are called reavers. You may be interested to learn that Wardenclave—the village he founded and the birthplace of the In-between—is currently governed by Gabriel Reaver, who is Gerard’s direct descendent.”

  The next few questions were easy enough for anyone following the Miyabe-Starmark courtship. What was the name of the ballad Kimiko was using as a basis for her courtship of Eloquence Starmark? What was the name of the tree at Kikusawa Shrine, under which Kimiko always bestowed her kisses?

  But current events had their turn. As did pop culture.

  “What city’s mounted police recently received a gift of six Kith stallions from Spokesperson Dwennon Thunderhoof?”

  “Where do most of the world’s known crossers reside?”

  “On the popular television series Dare Together, what famous cryptid did brothers Caleb and Josheb Dare bring out of hiding for an interview?”

  “What PBS children’s television show announced they’ll be adding a puppet of Amaranthine descent to their neighborhood?”

  Tami couldn’t keep up with Grandad or Kip, but neither did they leave her behind. Winning had never been the point of these weekly games. This was just the rallying point. In varying degrees, to the best of their ability, everyone in Archer wanted to be counted as allies of the Amaranthine. This town was getting ready to be good neighbors.

  After bingo, Tami was surprised when Harrison shook his car keys and said, “Meet you there!”

  “Right behind you,” called Flootie, who was pulling on hat and coat. “First one there puts on the coffee pot!”

  Tami shot a look at Kip, who grinned. “I already ordered take-out from Swifties. Let’s roll.”

  Swifties was little more than a counter and two booths at the back of a gas station. But they turned out the best hot pastrami sandwiches in the county, and they boasted six flavors of hand-scooped ice cream—none of which was ever vanilla.

  “What did you tell them?”

  “Two reubans, two hot ham and cheese, two patty melts. And a six-quart sampler for dessert.”

  Tami prodded his shoulder. “I meant, what did you tell Flootie and Harrison.”

  “Oh! That their beloved principal’s weekend is imperiled by paperwork. But a late-night push—with tasty incentives—would set the world to rights.”

  She asked, “At the school?”

  “Where else?”

  “But … Faisal is there, setting the world to rights.”

  Kip was on his phone with greater speed than he’d used when ringing in with answers to Harrison’s trivia questions. But all he did was check to see what Faisal wanted from Swifties.

  Tami followed the aroma of fresh coffee through Landmark’s pristine halls, straight to the break room, one of the few places in the building where all the furnishings were intended for grown-ups. She stashed the ice cream in the freezer while Ash eased bags of food onto the table.

  Flootie made a pleased sound and began an immediate rummage for paper plates and plastic utensils. Harrison pulled bottled water from the fridge, then hunted up their coffee mugs.

  By longstanding tradition, everyone on staff kept one on the long shelf over the sink. Photo mugs were a popular choice, and Tami counted no less than five with some variation on the theme World’s Greatest Teacher.

  Flootie’s was patterned in the distinctive dark blue of Polishware. Harrison’s featured one of those math jokes that probably would have been funnier if he didn’t have to explain it. Tami’s cup was shaped like a squat daruma, a graduation gift from her grandparents in Kyoto. Hers was red; Joe’s was blue. Kip’s mug boldly announced Will Work for Food.

  “Where’s yours, Ash?” Harrison asked, scanning the shelf a second time.

  “Got a new one.” With a sidelong look at Tami, he added, “That green one on the end.”

  “Nice! This looks handmade.” Harrison checked for a potter’s mark on the base.

  Ash shrugged. “Yeah, I know a guy.”

  Tami eased over to get a closer look, and Harrison passed it along. Heavy for its size, the mug’s glaze was an earthy shade of green, and letters had been incised deep into the clay—tree hugger. She laughed.

  He shrugged again, like it was no big deal. Because it wasn’t. Not really. But Tami was looking forward to a future filled with all the little ways he found to show he cared.

  “I really wish they’d send you some support staff.” Flootie settled into a chair. “Weren’t you going to get us a secretarial moth person?”

  Ash’s mouth twitched.

  “I did get some help, but not from a moth clan.” Tami casually asked, “Do you like birds?”

  “Depends. Is she detail-oriented?”

  “Obsessively,” assured Ash.

  Tami would have liked to make a remark about pots and kettles. “He’s proving very diligent.”

  “Would
you like to meet him?” Ash’s gaze slid to the door. “Kip went to get him.”

  Harrison had been about to sit but bounced to his feet again. “He’s here? There’s an Amaranthine here?”

  “He’s been working nights,” said Tami. This wasn’t really the big reveal they’d planned, but maybe Faisal wouldn’t mind being their opener. “Which is why there isn’t any paperwork for us to worry about.”

  Flootie’s eyes narrowed. “Ulterior motives?”

  “More than one,” promised Ash, just as Kip strolled through the door.

  “Flootie, Harrison, meet my good friend Faisal.”

  Tami wasn’t entirely surprised to discover that Faisal dressed impeccably for an evening of solitude. He greeted everyone with the same poise he used in dealing with customers at Find Me.

  Giving Faisal a puzzled once-over, Flootie asked, “Are you Amaranthine, young man?”

  “I am. I use simple illusions to hide telltale features.” Faisal sidled up to Harrison and inquired, “Would you like to see more?”

  Harrison offered his hands and breathlessly asked, “May I know your name?”

  With an approving inclination of his head, he slid his palms over the clerk’s. “Faisal Longsweep, a fosterling of the Sunfletch clan. Would you be so kind as to help me with my cufflinks?”

  Tami watched closely as Harrison obeyed. Faisal murmured something in his ear, and his fingers fumbled at their task. She tried to gauge what was going on by Ash’s expression, but he was looking on with nothing more than fond exasperation.

  “There. That’s done the trick,” said Faisal.

  Flootie uttered a reverent, “Would you look at that?”

  Having never seen Faisal without his disguise in place, Tami was similarly awestruck. The irises of Faisal’s eyes had darkened to brown, while all of the blue they’d once contained had migrated into his hair, which had the same lavish, shifting sheen of peacock feathers.

  “Gosh,” said Harrison.

  “That’s all? Have I rendered you insensible?”

  “Maybe a little. I mean … gosh.” Harrison earnestly asked, “Is there an appropriate way to ask an avian if they want to be friends?”

  Faisal slipped a finger under Harrison’s bowtie and gave enough of a tug to bring the clerk closer. “Is there an inappropriate way to ask a human if they want to be friends?”

  “Oh.” Harrison smiled. “I guess the question’s silly either way.”

  “But the underlying sentiment is flattering.” Faisal added, “Nice tie.”

  Ash cleared his throat. “Introducing you to Faisal wasn’t really the point to bringing everyone here.”

  “Oho?” Flootie’s gaze swung to Tami. “There’s more?”

  Tami said, “We wanted to tell you first.”

  “You’re engaged, aren’t you!” She pointed to Harrison. “Didn’t I tell you? Let me see the ring!”

  Ash held up a hand.

  Flootie chortled in delight. “She asked you? That’s adorable!”

  “Hold up.” Kip, who’d been shooting longing looks at the bags of food, said, “There’s more to that more. And I’ll go first.”

  Harrison immediately frowned. “You’re not … quitting.”

  “I don’t ever want to leave.” Kip boosted himself to a seat on the table. “I love it here. Landmark is my home, and you guys are my family.”

  “Here, here,” agreed Flootie, lifting her water bottle.

  Tami raised the tree hugger mug, matching the heartfelt salute.

  “Okay, so, this is kind of nerve-wracking. C’mere, Harrison.” Kip beckoned with both hands. “Help a guy out.”

  Harrison stepped right up, and Kip took his hand. Tami recognized the gentle press of knuckles into Harrison’s palm. It was the same way Ash had first revealed his claws to her.

  “Oh, man,” Harrison whispered.

  “Technically not.” Kip smiled crookedly. “Sorry, friend.”

  Harrison said, “Flootie, he’s trying to tell us he’s not human.”

  “Saints above!” She lunged up and bustled over. “What are you even saying?”

  Tami had never been more proud. They always talked about Landmark as family. In moments like this, her staff proved it.

  “Kip, you rascal!” exclaimed Flootie. “How long have you been hiding.”

  “Long while now.” Kip’s eyes were suspiciously wet. “I remember when you moved to Archer.”

  The woman gawked. “That was forty years ago!”

  “Can we see?” asked Harrison. “Is it all right to ask?”

  “Food’s getting cold.”

  And there was laughter and teasing and coaxing and a compromise. Until Flootie remembered the quiet one in the corner. She propped her hands on her hips and accused, “You knew!”

  “Can’t deny it,” said Ash.

  Harrison asked, “You, too?”

  “That’s the gist, but not the whole story.” Ash pulled out a chair for Tami. “How about we have mercy and feed Kip. We can talk things over while we eat. Because that’s where those ulterior motives kick in.”

  Tami leaned forward. “Like I said, we wanted to tell you first … because we need your support. I want you to help us announce the truth about Ash and Kip to the whole town. On Dichotomy Day.”

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Entourage and Retinue

  Ash loved his dad. Cyril liked to blame it on making a dramatic first impression, but Ash figured he was a little more discerning than he’d been as a half-plucked chick, when fascination and adoration were everything and enough. Love was all mixed up with respect and trust and pride … and at the moment, a desperate wish to go to him.

  “Settle your wings, boy.” Rook’s big hand reached for his. “He knows we’re here. He isn’t alone.”

  Three tiers of Bellwether College’s auditorium were packed with a standing-room-only crowd, and not simply because attendance was mandatory for students. Their parents had been invited, as had all alumni. And then there were the members of the press. They’d been afforded folding chairs, and the orchestra pit bristled with cameras and microphones.

  Because Hisoka Twineshaft had been kind enough to alert them to his schedule.

  Ash couldn’t have navigated the crush on the main floor any more than he could have worked his way into the balconies. But what most people—meaning humans—didn’t realize was that well-warded box seats overlooked the stage.

  Bellwether’s academic rigor was noteworthy, but the college was most famous for its dedication to the performing arts. And Cyril was the most generous of patrons. Naturally, his box was large, more of a balcony, really. And it was crammed with his ever-increasing family.

  Ash had a place there. One he was glad to own. But when Rook invited him into the relative hush of Doon-wen’s private box, he trailed after him as he’d always done.

  A light rap sounded on the box door, and Jiminy poked his head in. “Room for one more?” he asked cautiously.

  “You can come in if you ward the door behind you.” Rook blandly asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be part of the welcoming committee?”

  “I convinced Himself that I’m more effective if I have the high ground.” Jiminy looked only slightly less like a barista in his dark suit.

  Rook’s brows lifted. “Who modifies that pronoun?”

  “Lord Mettlebright.” Jiminy added one last sigil to the door. “He’s on edge, and that’s putting it kindly.”

  “He expects trouble?” Ash asked.

  “He’s ready for trouble.” Jiminy’s posture shifted into lines of confusion. “I haven’t ever dealt with foxes. Are they all as prickly as he is?”

  “You know better than to generalize,” scolded Rook.

  Jiminy’s chin dipped. “I know, but he’s their spokesperson.”

  Rook slowly shook his head. “Argent is … unique.”

  Ash tuned them out.

  He was still so worried about his father.

  Honestly, he was also a litt
le ashamed. He’d been so sure of himself when he’d told Tami that he didn’t care about bullies and brats. Because leaving things to their go-between no longer seemed like such a good idea. Not because Ash was afraid of humans. That was the worst kind of generalization. It was because he was afraid for Cyril. And that made his wings jump and his grip tighten and his heart pound a fearful rhythm.

  Caring for someone was vastly different than taking care of yourself.

  As he sat on the edge of his seat, fingers locked with Rook’s, he guessed he owed Tami an apology. How often would he put her in a place just like this—helpless on the sidelines while someone precious stepped into potential danger.

  “It’ll be okay.”

  Ash dragged his gaze from the stage.

  Jiminy was bending over him. “Hey, he’s going to be fine. You know Cyril. He’s always been golden.”

  “Promise it,” whispered Ash, who needed words like these from friends like this. “Promise it, so I know for sure. Because a wolf always keeps his promise.”

  “You may be the only person who takes me seriously.” Jiminy’s smile was as soft as the kiss he placed on Ash’s forehead. “All I am is all he needs. Your father will be safe.”

  Ash swallowed hard and whispered, “Thanks, kiddo.”

  “I grew up, you know.”

  “It shows.”

  Jiminy fished in his pocket and plucked out an amber stone. Moving back to the balcony railing, he coaxed light into the crystal and began a series of sigils no bigger than butterflies and just as erratic in their flight.

  “What are you up to?” Rook asked suspiciously.

  “Finishing touches.” Jiminy flashed a grin. “I don’t take my vows lightly. Not that our dignitaries haven’t already covered their bases. Have you seen Twineshaft’s escort?”