Mikoto and the Reaver Village (Amaranthine Saga #4) - Forthright . Page 0,38
understood his surprise. Most people were wary of a red-eyed boy with horns. Not her. When Lady Starmark proceeded to snuffle his neck, he collapsed into gasps and giggles.
“She’s sniffening you!” Lilya exclaimed.
“Don’t mind me,” said Radiance. “Standard procedure for special guests. Especially wily, barrier-dropping dragons who may need tracking.”
“Procedure?” Lilya remembered what Resplendence had said. “Is this for security?”
“Yes and no. I’ve always been nosy.” With a knowing expression, she asked, “Who taught you about sniffening?”
“Ever.” Kyrie relaxed with his head against Radiance’s shoulder, all hazy and half-lidded while she petted his hair and traced his scales. “Ever is our best friend.”
The lady’s chuckle was soft and low. “When they were little, I used to sniffen Merit and Prospect and Valor. Although I think my brother started it. Moon always insisted on sniffening Harmonious whenever he’d visit.”
“And Eloquence?” prompted Lilya.
“Not so much. He was still tiny when Harmonious decided to go away.” More wistful now, she said, “But it sounds like his Da and big brothers kept up the tradition.”
Lilya said, “We should take a picture.”
“May we?” begged Kyrie. “We can send it to Ever. Oh, but we would need Brother’s phone.”
At this point, the wolf at their backs grumbled and wuffed.
“Worry wort.” Radiance peered up at Snow. “There’s such a thing as too much privacy.”
The wolf laid back her ears and bared her teeth.
Radiance bowed her head. “Snow is camera shy. When it’s picture time, she doesn’t want to be included.”
Kyrie’s mother avoided cameras, as well. It was one of Uncle Argent’s strictest rules. But why would a Kith have the same rule? Was Snow someone important or hiding … or maybe both? Lilya was curious but asking felt like the wrong place to begin. Papka would start with trust.
Getting to her feet, Lilya showed her hands to Snow. “May I pet you?”
Vividly copper eyes narrowed.
“May she?” asked Radiance.
Everyone held still for several moments, waiting for some sign. Even the tiniest wag of Snow’s tail would be good. But she was utterly still.
Radiance laughed. “Really? Well, then. Snow might allow it if you’ll let her have her way with the young sir.”
“What does that mean?” asked Kyrie.
“She wants to sniffen you, merciful dragon.”
“I do not mind.” He stood and spread his arms wide. “Please, do.”
Radiance rose and urged Lilya to get out of the way. Snow soon had Kyrie sprawled in the straw while she snuffled and growled to herself. Kyrie’s expression remained peaceful, and he began petting Snow’s muzzle whenever it was in reach.
“You’re very patient,” remarked Radiance.
“I have many, many younger brothers and sisters, and they are always curious.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Once they are not afraid anymore.”
Snow jerked back and looked to Radiance, who asked, “Why would they be afraid?”
Kyrie pressed his lips together.
Lilya tried to distract them. “Once they get to know him, Kyrie’s their favorite.”
Radiance touched Lilya’s cheek and promised, “And you shall be mine, my angel. But Snow and I would still like to know why.”
To Lilya’s surprise, Kyrie told the truth. “The little ones do not know, and the bigger ones will not say.”
TWENTY
Bonds of Blood
Timur needn’t have worried about whether or not he could cut it as an instructor. Managing a bunch of reaver kids was hardly any different than playing with a houseful of crossers back home. They’d test his endurance more than his patience.
Every one of them was eager to improve, to distinguish themselves, to impress him. It was almost too easy. Suggest a game. Explain the rules. Play to win. Timur honestly felt like he’d spent the day goofing off.
Very different from the tension-inducing challenge presented by working with Naroo-soh’s recruits. He was glad he’d have both. They’d give his summer some balance. But right now, all Timur wanted was a shower, some soft clothes, and his son.
Well, maybe not all he wanted. But these were things he could have.
Running his hand through the tangled mess of his hair, Timur stumbled into memories that weren’t quite regrets, even though they made him sadder than anything.
Fend butted his broad forehead against Timur’s hip.
“I know.” He found one of his Kith’s ears and scratched. “I know, but I can’t help wondering. In a few years, they could be in classes just like these. Would I know them?”
With a growl, Fend pushed him off the path. Backing him up to a tree, the big cat reared up, planting velveted paws on Timur’s shoulders and looming over him. Then he nosed his forehead and began to purr.