Mikoto and the Reaver Village (Amaranthine Saga #4) - Forthright . Page 0,28

us? That’s so kind. Be welcome.”

Mikoto stood mute, unsure if this was good or bad. He hung back, leaving the greetings to Yulin. Not that Glint let the moth get very far.

Silencing Yulin with a fierce glance, Glint bore down on Mikoto, herded him into the corner, and folded him in strong arms. It took several startled moments for Mikoto to realize that Glint was crying.

Hot tears hit his shoulder, and Glint’s soft whine filled Mikoto with distress. He wanted to look to Uncle for help, but he couldn’t see past Glint’s bulk. The head of the Starmark clan curled around him as if seeking comfort. As if Mikoto had any to give.

“I miss him,” Glint muttered, arms tightening. “I miss my friend.”

The broken confession broke Mikoto, who choked on a sob.

Waaseyaa and Yulin took charge then, hustling them in a clumsy jumble along the hall to Mikoto’s own room. The moth swiftly warded walls and doors for privacy, barely in time to contain Glint’s howl. Mikoto could feel his pain. After that came an uncomfortably messy torrent of grief.

It scared him.

It gutted him.

When Mikoto finally caught his breath, he was more wrung out than if he’d run a cross-country marathon with the Guard. He strongly suspected that Glint was the only thing keeping him standing. Which ceased to be true the moment Mikoto’s feet left the floor.

“Brave boy. Good lad.” Glint snuffled at his neck and mumbled childhood endearments and hoarse apologies.

Just this once, Mikoto decided he’d take it. Because today would go from hard to heartrending. For reasons that had his eyes watering anew. Gently wrapping his arms around the First of Dogs, Mikoto pretended he could keep anything simply by wanting it hard enough.

“Oh, my boy.” Glint’s whole body trembled. “I do not like letting go.”

Mikoto just sort of grabbed, even though he might be pulling hair or spoiling embroidery. Because he understood what it was like, loving someone even though they would leave you. His summers were like lifetimes, and they always ended in grief. Over and over. Because he couldn’t help staying loyal.

Every year, Mikoto lost Lupe.

Every lifetime, Glint lost a friend.

Waaseyaa coaxed and Yulin prodded Glint toward Mikoto’s unmade bed.

“You need rest,” said Uncle. “A long one.”

“This room is best,” added Yulin. “I will take responsibility.”

Glint groaned and growled. Then gruffly muttered, “With your permission, boy?”

“Stay,” Mikoto urged, his head aching, his nose plugged. Yet an offer of hospitality should never be stinting, so he asked, “Do you want tending?”

“I do.” Glint set Mikoto on his own bed and sank to his knees beside it. “We do. Wardenclave does. It will strengthen our bond. Renew my pact.”

Touching the face of sorrow before him, Mikoto said, “Wardenclave does. We do. I do.”

“Good lad.”

He stood, making way.

Uncle straightened and folded aside the blankets. “Here is best, Glint. Take what you need.”

Glint dragged himself onto the too-narrow mattress, looking wretched and weary and wistful.

For several moments, Mikoto grappled with the history behind this moment. How many times had Glint repeated it? Someday, would the First of Dogs howl for Mikoto and wrap himself in the scent of a future son? How many sons had helped Glint move forward into an uncertain future? Mikoto thought Glint must be very brave to face so many heartbreaks.

Mikoto helped Uncle tuck him in, then perched on the edge, taking one of Glint’s large hands in both of his. Thanks to Merl, he knew what to do. But his experience with tending was limited to those lessons, during which they generally focused on refining Mikoto’s control. Merl refrained from personal remarks, but Mikoto was sort of curious.

He watched Glint’s face, wondering how his soul compared to generations of Reavers before him. What did an Amaranthine gain from this touching of souls?

Glint turned his head and one corner of his lips quirked. “There is nothing to fear from the likes of me. I may have been tasked with numbering the stars, but each has its own loveliness. You shine true, and I am grateful to know it.”

Mikoto sort of … slipped. Like the warmth he felt couldn’t be contained.

Somewhere behind him, Yulin gasped.

Glint’s eyes fluttered shut, and he dragged in a long breath. “Maker bless,” he whispered, though it sounded like an oath. Eyes widening, hand tightening, Glint said, “You should have told me you were in love.”

Mikoto looked away. “Does it matter?”

“Always matters.” Glint struggled against sleep, lids drooping, words slurring. “Changes everything.”

Mikoto sat, dull and dazed, while Uncle pressed warm and