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,