by Forthright
“Don’t you work with humans?” asked Akira.
“Reavers,” clarified Juuyu. “And they don’t look twice at my plumage. If they notice me at all.”
“Because you’re a stealthy super-spy?”
Juuyu made a sound that was new, so Akira didn’t know how to interpret it. “Because my partner shines as you do, Akira. I yield to his greater enthusiasm for social interaction.”
“Is your partner here in Keishi? Will we get to meet him?”
“Perhaps.” Juuyu gave their heads a final caress. “More importantly, bedtime story or lullaby?”
Not the sort of question you’d expect from a person like Juuyu. But by moonlight or candlelight, the phoenix’s sharp gaze mellowed along with his voice. This was a lilting, lulling time of day, when those closest were drawn closer, and secrets were safely shared.
Full-grown Amaranthine didn’t need sleep in the same way as humans. They could go for weeks without, then crash for days on end. On balmy nights in the Farroost colony, Akira had fought his own weariness in order to experience what young phoenixes took for granted. They fell asleep to a mother’s twittering lullabies or an uncle’s wild story. There among the trees, under stars that seemed to pulse with every note and blush in rainbow hues, the colony fluted their piercingly beautiful songs.
“Why just one?” Akira flopped gratefully onto his pillow. “I vote for both.”
“Hmm. There are things I need to say. To both of you.” Juuyu motioned for his brother to lie back. “Suuzu, the elders have decided to accept your choice. In essence, you may keep Akira, with the Farroost clan’s blessing.”
Akira snorted. It wasn’t like he and Suuzu needed permission to be friends.
But Suuzu seemed more favorably impressed. Propping himself up on his elbows, he asked, “Truly?”
“I added his name to the registry myself.”
“Hold up.” Akira wasn’t quite so sleepy anymore. “Does this mean they didn’t approve of me before?”
Juuyu clucked his tongue. “Be fair. Many humans outgrow the fascinations of their childhood. The elders wanted to see if your paths would diverge.”
Suuzu grumbled, “He is mine.”
His brother inclined his head. “Being fair to both sides, it does not hurt that your nestmate has lofty relations.”
Incredulity added a note of injury to Suuzu’s protest. “I did not choose Akira for his family.”
“He didn’t know about Sis when we started rooming together.” Thinking back, Akira added, “We were friends before Sis even met Argent.”
“Granted,” Juuyu soothed. “But these are factors that worked in your favor. Akira Hajime, the Farroost clan considers you one of our own. If you choose, you may wear our clan’s crest.”
It was Akira’s turn to prop himself up on elbows. “Seriously? That’s … major.”
Clan crests were part of any Amaranthine family’s identity. Juuyu wore his as a gold lapel pin. Akira sat up more fully and touched the small disk with its swirl of stylized feathers around a roughly triangular center.
“Suuzu would normally be discouraged from accepting a human nestmate, but they are willing to overlook the irregularity.”
“Because of my connection to the Mettlebright foxes,” murmured Akira.
“No.” Juuyu quietly said, “Because Suuzu is a tribute.”
“A what now?”
“It is … a private family matter.” Suuzu pulled Akira down so his head rested on his shoulder—their usual sleeping arrangement when Suuzu was in speaking form. Looking to his brother, Suuzu added, “We do not usually speak of such things.”
“He is your nestmate. He will bear our crest.” Juuyu’s tone took on the edge of authority. “He can keep a secret.”
“Yeah, of course!” Akira promised.
Suuzu turned his body so he could speak directly into Akira’s ear. “Juuyu is a tenth child, and so am I. We are our clan’s tributes.”
“You have nineteen older siblings?”
With an affirmative hum, he shielded Akira as Juuyu transformed into a mythical bird—long neck, showy crest, and an extravagance of trailing tail feathers. It was nip and tuck, fitting into his newly-claimed nest, but Juuyu settled over them, as if further blanketing this conversation in secrecy.
Downy softness surrounded them as Suuzu told him what it meant to be a tribute. There were secret tasks and sacred roles that belonged to one child in ten. While he couldn’t reveal everything that meant for every clan, he shared what it meant for the two brothers. “We had to leave the colony.”
“Like … ambassadors?”
“Yes and no.” Suuzu sighed against Akira’s ear. “That is more my role, for I was set apart for peace. Juuyu was set apart for war.”
“And that’s why he’s a secret agent?”
He chuckled. “Juuyu is more investigator than spy, but he does carry many secrets. They are the birthright of every phoenix, but since the Founding, they were entrusted to our warriors.”
“And Juuyu’s one of these warriors?”
Admiration and conviction saturated Suuzu’s simple answer. “He is.”
The lateness of the hour was getting to Akira. Tucked as they were beneath Juuyu’s chest, it was deliciously warm, although it was strange to share the scent and softness of feathers with Suuzu. Usually, Akira was the lone chick in this nest. “It’s like you’re both of you.”
“Hmm?”
Akira shook his head. It was too silly to repeat. What had they been talking about? “Ambassador of peace … sounds prestigious. It’s almost like you’re the Spokesperson for the phoenix clans.”
“Yes.”
“Huh?” Akira pushed feathers out of the way, but there was no hope of seeing his friend’s face in the dark. “You’re like … one of the Five?”
“I cannot be one of the Five or there would be six.”
“You know what I mean.” He poked in the general vicinity of Suuzu’s ribs.
“I do.” Suuzu quietly admitted, “I am.”
Akira finally snickered. “I’d like to go on record as having befriended you before I knew you were important.”
Suuzu trembled with ill-contained laughter, and above them, Juuyu began the thrumming coo of a phoenix lullaby. Akira recognized the melody. It was the same one Suuzu sang over him most nights.
He nestled back down. “You’ve been holding out on me, Spokesperson Farroost.”
“Few know.” Suuzu had relaxed enough that his voice slurred with sleep. “This is my secret to carry.”
“And mine.”
Akira liked this part of being a nestmate. Hearing a song with your whole body. At times like this, at the edge of waking and sleeping, Akira could almost believe he was touching Suuzu’s soul. Giddy peace enveloped him like a gentle fire, flickering around and through him without burning.
“What was Juuyu’s again?” Akira asked.
“Hmm?”
“Is his secret as cool as yours?”
“Certainly. In the old lore, phoenixes have always fulfilled one role.” Suuzu lapsed into the rhythmic patter of recitation. “Our warriors are keen of eye, swift in flight, alluring in song, and untouched by flames. We are hunters with one prey.”
“Yeah?” Akira yawned. “Wassat?”
Suuzu’s lips bumped his ear. “Dragons.”
THIRTEEN
Double Escort
Oh, this was awkward. Kimiko’s posture shifted to reinforce her words. “I’d like that. Really, I would.”
“Good try, Kimi, but it sounds like you’re leading up to an apology.” Akira was on tiptoe. “We don’t get enough time to talk in class. Hang out with us!”
She checked to see if Suuzu understood. The phoenix touched his best friend’s shoulder. “If today is inconvenient, we could make alternative arrangements.”
“Maybe,” she said doubtfully. “I have family obligations. And sometimes I take part in these extra tutoring sessions with my younger sister. Long story short,
I always have to go straight home.”
Akira buried his hands in his pockets, the picture of dejection. “We noticed you’re not in the dorm.”
“That’s right.” Kimiko dropped soft boots onto the floor in front of the shoe lockers and stepped down into them, tugging them up over the dense weave of her winter breeches. “It’s close enough, so I’m living at home.”
Akira followed her out the front doors. “How far are we talking?”
Pointing north, she asked, “See the tree on that hill?”
Suuzu caught up, Akira’s coat over his arm. He silently draped a scarf around the boy’s shoulders while Akira gave the distant hilltops a considering look. “You walk that every day?”
“When the weather’s good,” she said. “It’s a little over four kilometers, and I’m used to it. I spent the last couple years walking to Ingress Academy.”
He caught Suuzu’s eye, then asked, “Can we walk you home, Kimi?”
The polite thing would have been to protest—the time, the distance, the inconvenience. But Kimiko decided to be honest. “I’d like that. Really, I would.”
Akira grinned. “This time, I believe you!”
“I could show you around a little—the prettiest spots, my favorite places.” Kimiko checked the sky as she looped her scarf snugly around her neck. “If we’re careful, we can avoid my mother.”
“Why’s that?” asked Akira.
“I do want you to meet my family eventually. I mean, it would be an honor to offer you hospitality, but….” Kimiko floundered for a way to explain. “Certain members of my family have been putting a lot of pressure on me. I’m used to ignoring their helpful advice, but if you fell into their clutches, things would get awkward.”
“Pressure. Clutches?” Akira caught her arm. “Kimi, do you need our help?”
She laughed. “I’m not in need of rescue, but you will be if Mama finds out about your relationship to Lady Mettlebright.”
“Sis?” Akira held up his hands. “Am I missing some kind of reaver joke here? Because I’m not actually a reaver.”
“No, but your closest kin is a beacon, and that’s excellent breeding potential.” Kimiko shook her head. “You’d have a contract under your nose and a pen in your hand before the tea’s poured.”
Suuzu helpfully murmured, “Her relatives want an excellent prospect to improve their bloodlines.”
“Three excellent prospects. And I’m really sorry.” She tucked her chin, hiding most of her face behind her scarf. “I don’t want our triad to be about making connections.”
Akira patted her back. “I think I get it. And it sounds like I better find out about prospects and contracts and stuff, since I apparently have ‘excellent breeding potential.’”
Suuzu made a low noise that was not happy.
Kimiko shot him a sympathetic look and begged for patience.
He gently rebuffed her apology, saying, “The matter will undoubtedly arise again. Akira should become informed.”
Catching his eye, she expressed the depth of her feelings—abasement and reluctance to do harm, inner conflict and a sense of helplessness.
Akira caught her hand and stared at it. “What is that? You’re always doing things like that. Little stuff. You move like an Amaranthine.”
Kimiko smirked at him. “I’m a reaver. We learn things like this.”
“No,” countered Suuzu. “You are different.”
She paused at the corner, waiting for the light to change. But she flicked him a quizzical look.
“There!” Akira mimicked the position of her feet and clumsily adjusted his hips. “What’s this supposed to mean?”
Suuzu said, “A mild protest, one that does not ask for confrontation. A plea for understanding. It would be more nuanced if she had a tail.”
Akira tried again, and Suuzu’s expression softened. “Not quite. Unless you were intending to proposition the nearest feline.”
He tried again, and Suuzu’s trill carried a note of amusement.
Kimiko chuckled. “You’re either challenging a bear or apologizing to your herd, depending on the set of your shoulders.”
“Hmm.” Suuzu fell in step beside her. “Your fluency goes beyond the expected patterns. Are your people attached to an enclave?”
“Not at all. We’re a shrine family.” A convenience store caught her eye, and she pulled up short. “Say, do you mind if I make a quick stop?”
“Snacks!” was Akira’s stamp of approval.
The boys followed her in, and Akira grabbed a basket, moving off toward a case of prepared lunches. She ducked down the aisle with crunchy snacks and immediately brightened. They had new flavors! Making a few choices, she moved to the candy aisle. It was a little too early for Junzi to have released their special edition wrappers for the upcoming Star Festival. But Kimiko was pleasantly surprised to find another chocolate bar in the plum blossom sleeve. She’d buy it for Mrs. Miura, since she was planning to drop in for her promised visit over the weekend.
Kimiko glanced around to check on the boys, and Suuzu met her gaze across the store. With casual grace, he made three distinct signals—rejoin us, trust me, and … something she didn’t know how to interpret. Hurrying to his side, she said, “I missed the last one.”
“I know. It only holds meaning for the phoenix clans. Would you like to learn our ways?”
“Please!” Kimiko touched his sleeve. “What did you say?”
“At which point?” he asked solemnly.
She was used to this kind of thing from her Amaranthine tutors. They always favored hands-on lessons. Learn by doing. Emulating the tilt of his head, she flared her fingers before brushing her lips.
Suuzu’s soft whistle was complimentary. “You are a fast learner.”
Kimiko jiggled impatiently, and to her amazement, Suuzu smiled. “I asked for a bedtime story,” he said. “And in returning the gesture, you have promised one.”
That was new. Totally unique within her limited experience. She was still practicing the movement of fingers when Akira rejoined them then, swinging his bag of snacks, so she hastily moved to the counter to make her purchases.
They continued along the sidewalk, and she ripped open a bag of crisps. “Want some?”
Akira looked askance at the package. “A favorite of yours?”
“Never had it before,” she admitted, popping one into her mouth.
“Any good?” he asked suspiciously.
“Not sure yet.” She took another and smiled. “The flavor might grow on me.”
He cautiously took one and sniffed.
Suuzu lifted a hand in polite refusal. “Returning to our earlier discussion,” he said. “Who was your mentor at Ingress Academy?”
Kimiko shook her head. “Someone like me doesn’t get singled out. I wasn’t tapped for apprenticeship.”
The phoenix’s gaze sharpened. “I have seen you use a wide range of expressions, representative of dozens of clans. Many of them so nuanced, you must have seen them firsthand.”
“Oh! Well, yes. My sisters and I have had temporary tutors since we were little. From all over. None of them stayed for more than an afternoon or two, but my grandfather was good at finding more.” Kimiko wasn’t especially good at math, but two or three tutors a month over the course of a dozen or so years wasn’t hard to tabulate. “There have been quite a few. Not so many lately, though.”
Akira was counting on his fingers. “That’s like … almost four hundred teachers.”
“It sounds more impressive than it was.” Kimiko munched morosely. “When my older sister and I enrolled at Ingress, we were so far behind everyone else. There are huge gaps in our knowledge of the basics since we tended to follow our interests instead of a set curriculum.”
Suuzu said, “Put another way, you have spent years refining an exceptionally narrow field of study across a surprisingly diverse cross-section of Amaranthine society.”
“I guess.” She scrubbed at the side of her face, which
was feeling rather warm despite the winter winds. “It was the only way.”
“Hmm?”
She didn’t want to sound peevish, so she balanced her words with a hopeful posture. “Reavers of my rank hardly ever get close to an Amaranthine. We don’t attract your interest or attention. It’s not like we’re banned from approaching you, but we’re given no opportunity to do so. But I don’t have to get close to offer a greeting.” Kimiko offered signals for respect, gratitude, and a quirky tanuki blessing for a thick pelt in winter. “I never get to learn their names, but I can almost always win a smile. And that makes me happy.”
“Reavers outnumber us a hundred-to-one, in every generation.” Suuzu’s hand found hers. “And most Amaranthine prefer the security of enclaves or seclusion.”
“There aren’t enough Amaranthine to go around.” Akira seemed embarrassed. “Guess that makes me really lucky, huh?”
“To have a phoenix for a best friend?” Kimiko gave Suuzu’s hand a small squeeze. “I can’t even begin to compare. My best friend is a tree.”
FOURTEEN
Local Legends
With no sign of anyone coming or going, Kimiko hightailed it up the shrine stairs. She was two-thirds of the way to the top—it was a matter of pride for all the Miyabe girls that they could climb the full length without stopping—when Akira called out.
“Wait up!” Akira gesticulated uselessly. She really needed to teach him some basics. “Suuzu’s looking at something.”
Kimiko moved to one side in order to see to the bottom, where the phoenix stood as still as the statue he was studying. Skipping back down, she stopped beside Akira. “Sorry, Suuzu,” she said in a normal speaking voice. “I guess I should have started our tour with those.”
He gestured for peace and patience as he circled the second crouching dragon.
Akira fidgeted on the edge of the step, but he also understood that Suuzu could hear them fine, despite the distance. “So … dragons, huh? Is there a story behind those?”