Fumiko and the Finicky Nestmate, page 3
“These are what I like to call a competitive edge.” She turned, encouraging his perusal. “This set has shields for deflective attacks. Ever been hit by an airbag in a moving car?”
Juuyu’s eyes widened.
So did her smile. “Broke my nose once. Gave me the idea. Defensive measures can pack a wallop. So does my partner. I’m Magda Locket, by the way. We’re the Lost Harbor Lockets.”
As if he should recognize them.
He met her palms and admitted, “I am … unfamiliar.”
“Seriously?” Magda propped a hand on her hip. “We’re on the battler circuit. The games are televised and everything. Ever watch any extreme sports? No?”
“I apologize.” He was more interested in the delicate sigils that wheeled around her. Six in all. Expanding her sensory field like the whiskers on a cat.
Mirrim’s posture shifted as she took charge again. “We’re both partnered. You met Lash.”
Juuyu inclined his head toward the lynx.
Magda said, “I belong to Tuft. He’s sweeping fourth floor. That’s where the Junzi is displayed.”
“We can take you there first,” Mirrim offered. “There’s probably time, since the director is running late. Again.”
“A moment.” Juuyu signaled for secrecy. “While it is just us.”
The battlers subtly came to attention.
“Details have not been released, but I am authorized to tell you—and only you—that there has been a theft in Keishi. Another of the Junzi, a weapon known as the Chrysanthemum Blaze, was taken from Kikusawa Shrine. One of my teammates has diverted to Keishi in order to investigate. We will know more when he rejoins us here.”
The battlers exchanged a long look.
“Kikusawa Shrine?” Magda asked incredulously. “The home of Eloquence and Kimiko Starmark? Isn’t that place behind a bajillion barriers?”
“The shrine itself is open to the public. They see hundreds of visitors on an average day. Thousands on festival days.” Juuyu had visited more than once, so he understood why the theft was such a shock. “Even so, the Blaze was taken from a secure area.”
“By the so-called Gentleman Bandit?” asked Magda.
“That is the assumption.”
“When?” asked Mirrim.
“The theft was discovered four days ago.”
Again, the women exchanged a long look.
Juuyu tasted dread. “What has happened?”
“I guess you’d call it … tampering,” said Magda. “Possibly coincidental, but it has my back up.”
“When?” Juuyu demanded.
Mirrim drummed her fingers on the hilt of one of the blades at her belt. “Yesterday.”
FOUR
They Usually Send Humans
Fumiko pushed, and Zuzu pulled Akira, who didn’t really need persuading. Only a direction.
They didn’t often receive guests, despite their location on a prime sliver of beachfront property. Fumiko had forgotten how much fun it was, drawing back the curtain so blinded eyes could see.
“Whoa! This is … whoa!” Akira folded his hands behind his head and laughed toward the treetop. “Zuzu, that’s you! Right?”
“It is! Do you think I’m pretty?”
“Totally beautiful,” he warmly assured.
Fumiko liked the ease with which he bestowed compliments. She asked, “You knew?”
“Not at first. I probably should have figured it out sooner.” Looking back the way they’d come, Akira added, “Juuyu didn’t say anything, but he’s careful like that.”
That one. Fumiko had thought he was human until he’d touched her. Betraying the truth of his existence. Bestowing words like a blessing. “He’s Amaranthine.”
“Avian,” revealed Zuzu. “But I don’t know which kind.”
“He’ll definitely share his name properly. Juuyu has good manners.” Akira cobbled together his sentences slowly, sometimes mixing in Japanese words before translating to English. “He’s from a grove, and I’ve been there. Those trees are like you.”
“A grove,” Zuzu breathed wistfully. “Is it far?”
“Across the ocean.” He looked toward the water. “Not sure where, though. The whole island’s hidden. Like you.”
“It’s safer that way,” murmured Fumiko.
Akira eagerly explained, “So I’ve met tree-kin before, but the whole time, I thought they were some kind of islander clan who wore flowers in their hair. And that all foreigners were touchy-feely. I didn’t catch on at all. But I was just a kid, and everything was new then. Right after the Emergence.”
Zuzu tapped his nose. “You are still young.”
“Compared to Amaranthine, sure,” he agreed amiably. “Some of the kids I hang out with are decades older than me. But they’re still growing, and what they need changes over time. That’s the same for anyone. Even trees, yeah?”
“What I need is always the same.” Zuzu pouted. “But nobody gives it.”
Akira looked to Fumiko, who couldn’t help laughing. “She wants pollen. They restrict it with barriers to prevent accidental fertilization.”
Fumiko was in much the same circumstance, but for different reasons.
“Would that be so bad?” asked Akira.
“Portia could explain it better. Something about cross-pollination … and population explosion.”
“Wish I could visit that grove,” Zuzu said wistfully.
“Guess that’s not an option. But we can visit you. See? There’s the guys!” But he hauled up short and gawked anew. “You live in a lighthouse?”
While Akira and Zuzu paused to admire the tower, Fumiko strolled on, hoping for a glimpse of the aforementioned dragon. Beyond the tree and the lighthouse, a thick sea wall forestalled further erosion. Steps led down to a long breakwater, and on the dock at its end, a boat bobbed.
More of their guests were in the process of unloading plain black cases of various sizes. One of the men caught sight of her and turned from the task, a smile on his face. He strolled closer, already presenting his palms. “Hello, there. I’m Ricker Thunderhoof, but everyone calls me Colt.”
“Fumiko.” His hands were so large. “You’re the healer?”
Concern flickered through brown eyes. “Among other things. Do you need a healer?”
“Sometimes.” This was very confusing. “Usually, they send humans.”
“Pardon me, lady.” He bent closer and changed his grip to her wrists. But before he could begin any of the healers’ rotes, her sister inserted herself between them.
“Horse clan?” Zuzu asked, rubbing her fingertips over the bristling stubble on one side of Colt’s head, where the gingery hair had been shaved.
“Yes. I’m Colt.” His surprise faded into amusement. “Would you two lovely ladies happen to be sisters?”
Zuzu whirled to wrap her arms around Fumiko. “I like him, Sister.”
Fumiko did, too. However, she couldn’t help holding this newcomer up against Juuyu, who’d made a rather dramatic first impression. “How many are there?”
“Six total. One of our teammates will be coming in later, so it’s five for now.” Colt shifted into a receptive posture. “If you’ll show me the way to our rooms, I’ll shift our baggage.”
Akira caught up. “I’ll help!”
Colt nodded. “Ours are probably too heavy, but your case is in there somewhere.”
“Zuzu moves fast!” Akira was all admiration. And acceptance. “Did you ever meet a tree?”
“A few. Enough to understand.” Colt offered his palms to Zuzu. “Thank you for allowing us to shelter under your branches.”
She was in his arms in an instant, and Fumiko hoped he didn’t mind. But he chuckled and went to pat her head, only to hesitate over Zuzu’s flowers. Fumiko caught his eye and touched her own shoulder. Colt flashed a grateful smile and gently enfolded Zuzu, who was dwarfed by his larger frame.
“I like him,” Zuzu repeated with a blissful sigh. “Oh! But where has the dragon gone?”
And just like that, Colt’s arms were empty.
Akira jogged after her, calling, “Wait for me! I’ll introduce you!”
A slender young man was just pulling himself out of the water and onto the dock. Long green hair and a yellow tunic clinging to pale skin. He waved and called out to Akira in Japanese, but when he spotted Zuzu, he froze.
Her embrace only flustered him further.
Akira laughed and said, “English for Fumiko, please.”
The green-haired Amaranthine asked, “Tree-twin?”
“Yes.” Fumiko thought he might be blushing. “Zuzu is my sister.”
“You are very pretty,” cooed Zuzu, nuzzling the young male’s throat. “And you smell nice.”
“Thanks, I guess.” And to Fumiko, a tight, “Call her off?”
Fumiko had seen this sort of thing before. “Gently, Zuzu. I think this one is shy about girls.”
“I could teach him.” Zuzu’s smile turned sultry.
“Don’t tease,” Fumiko scolded. “I think he’s your dragon.”
She drew back, eyes wide. “Is that what this feeling is? Are you a dragon?”
“Sinder Stonecairne of the Icelandic Reach. And yes, I’m from a dragon clan.” Rolling his eyes toward Akira, he muttered, “This was easier when the tree was male.”
“Oh! Sorry, sorry.” Akira gesticulated at Fumiko. “Sinder’s a dragon without … what’s the word?”
He tried a few in Japanese, and Sinder looked scandalized. “Did you just call me a gelding?”
Colt’s laugh was a friendly sort of nicker. As he passed by, balancing cases, he said, “Celibate is the usual term.” He gave it in Japanese, too. “There are no females in the heights, so Sinder isn’t used to these small attentions.”
Zuzu promised, “I will be gentle.”
Sinder wriggled free and dove back into the water, surfacing at a safe distance.
Akira called, “That’s perfect! Hey Sinder, Fumiko wanted to see your dragon form.”
He ducked under, pulling down a swirl of fanning hair. A moment later, the water swelled, and sparkling scales breeched the surface before vanishing again.
Several yards out, a dragon burst from the water, flipping in midair before diving under again.
“Quite the sight, isn’t he?” remarked Colt, who’d returned for more luggage.
Fumiko nodded, then shook her head.
“Is something troubling you?”
There certainly was. This was all so strange. “They really only ever send humans. They certainly never send celibates.”
“Well …? I suppose there’s a first time for everything,” Colt ventured uncertainly. “And look. Here’s my good friend. Come along, Hallow. Greet our hostess.”
The fifth guest swept up, his cloak rippling just above the weathered boards of the dock. He was easily as pale as Sinder, but his hair was black, and when he bowed over Fumiko’s hand, the eyes that lifted to hers were large, thick-lashed, and deeply, darkly red.
“How do you do? My name is Hallow Brunwinger.” His aristocratic air was accompanied by a British accent. “Thank you for giving shelter to our little group.”
His ears came to points, as did his teeth and nails. All typical of the Amaranthine. But his touch was puzzling. Fumiko remarked, “You feel different.”
“I would, I suppose.” He passed a long, slender case to Colt, who shouldered it. “Let’s have it done, then.”
In one smooth motion, he flicked back his cloak and lifted his arms. A grand gesture that momentarily distracted from the velvety drape of … something. Fumiko dropped to a crouch, her arms around her knees as she tried to understand what she was looking at.
“Wings,” he offered blandly. “Or a close approximation. I belong to one of the bat clans, but my father was a reaver. I’m half human.”
“I know about crossers,” said Zuzu, hand reaching. “Ash Sunfletch is a crosser. He visited us.”
“Ah, ah!” Hallow caught her wrist, smiled, and said, “I am very ticklish.”
Rather than be offput, Zuzu shimmied in delight. “He’s good, too, Sister! How will we choose?”
But the matter of choosing was shelved like a book in the Jacaranda Free Library thanks to the arrival of its founder. Fumiko hastily straightened and smoothed at her skirt. Diva wasn’t smiling, and that was rare. What had put thunder in her soul?
“Kindred,” she called, her deep voice rolling across the water. “If you would gather in, our ward needs to resettle our safeguards.”
At that moment, the dragon executed another capering leap.
His splash was met by a low growl. Diva had little tolerance for shenanigans.
“Beg pardon, ladies.” Fingers to lips, Colt whistled a piercing note.
Sinder shot to him, changed to speaking form underwater, and accepted Colt’s offered hand up. Dripping on the dock, Sinder kept a wary eye on Zuzu. Which was silly. Diva was the one he should be worried about. Her good opinion was more precious than pollen.
“No introductions, no time. I only have a fifteen-minute break, and that’s half gone.” She gave them each a long, hard look. “Call me Diva. Everyone does. I’m an undisclosed, and I’ll be in the library. Portia, they’re all yours.”
And with that, she stalked away, right past a willowy woman whose tanned face was creased by long life and laughter. Fumiko caught Portia’s impish wink and relaxed. Whatever was upsetting Diva, it would pass quickly. Probably as soon as the barriers were reestablished.
Akira sidled up to her. “Is Diva a … security guard?”
Fumiko replied, “She is our strength. And she is our librarian.”
His tone became conspiratorial. “What clan?”
“Bear.”
Immediately brightening, Akira said, “Thank goodness! I get along pretty well with bears.”
And even though a few of his words were foreign, Fumiko understood. She really must have learned Japanese at some point. She caressed his hair, which was straight and silky.
His gaze turned quizzical. “You act more Amaranthine than human.”
“Do you think so?”
“Oh, I know so. Do I really remind you of one of your sons?”
“Yes.”
“That’s kind of cool. I wonder if we’re related?”
Fumiko searched his upturned face. “Aren’t you from Japan?”
“That’s where I grew up. But my family is kinda different. And difficult. You see, my sister and I are orphans.” Akira shifted into a receptive posture, accepting her touch, her curiosity. “She remembers our dad, but there’s nothing about our mom. And the papers are missing. No pedigree. No genealogy. So who knows? We could be distantly related.”
“You’re an unregistered reaver?”
“Sis is, but not me.” His smile turned wistful. “And as far as I know, there’s no cure for being ordinary.”
This had to be the last straw. An unendowed human? And one who might possibly be her own descendant? Not one of these males was an appropriate candidate for paternity.
But the possibilities they presented were … intriguing.
FIVE
This Might Be Bad
Akira had lived with Amaranthine for more than a decade, and he’d long ago adjusted his ideas about personal space and polite distances. Not that it’d been hard. He wasn’t especially reserved about touching. But Suuzu craved connections that would have raised eyebrows, especially back in school. Integration had been a new thing, and it was just so hard to explain why Akira let another boy run his fingers through his hair. Or why he was so used to sleeping with Suuzu, it was hard to sleep without him.
So when Fumiko played with Akira’s hair, he immediately felt more at ease. This meant good things—acceptance, welcome, even protection. Her familiarity had a familial quality that made it easy to think of her as a big sister. Mentally, he’d already attached that honorific to her name.
Fumiko turned toward the old woman walking their way, and Akira followed her lead. Right down to the respectful posture that promised undivided attention.
“Reaver Portia Groves,” the woman declared, including them all with a sweep of sharp green eyes. “I lowered a few of my barriers to let you through. We’ll need them back up. Quickly. However, once they are, you’ll be in some trouble unless the wards are tuned to you.”
Juuyu’s teammates simply lined up. Like this was standard procedure. One that probably applied to Akira, despite his lack of reaverness.
The woman continued, “I’ve already swept you and your luggage for foreign particles. All guests need to carry my tuned crystals at all times. I could track your every movement, but I won’t. If you’re concerned about your privacy, pull me aside, and we can chat. On the upside, the crystals satisfy the letter of the law with regard to reaver escorts. While you’re here, I’m yours.”
Portia distributed bracelets that had been woven with hemp and shells, like those sold in any beachside tourist shop.
“Won’t take long,” she promised.
Akira knew about tuned crystals. Back in high school, he’d helped pick a pair as a gift for Suuzu. One was knotted into the necklace that Suuzu always wore, and Akira kept its companion on a cord around his ankle. Although the magic of remnant stones was lost on Akira, Suuzu could always tell where he was because the stones were linked.
“You’re fast,” remarked Colt, admiring his new bracelet.
“Comes with experience,” Portia replied blandly.
Sinder said, “You’re a ranker. I can tell.”
Portia laughed. “I’m long past the age when digits impress. Seventy-five on my last birthday. Semi-retired.”
“Go on,” the dragon coaxed. “You can tell us.”
“May as well have it straight from the horse’s mouth. No offense, Colt.” Portia calmly revealed, “Once upon a time, I ranked fifth among wards.”
