an outsider.
How long had he been at Zisa’s? Ten days, more or less. Yulin would know for sure. Was that all the time it took for him to become a stranger to everything?
Even grief?
Even heartbreak?
Maybe he had allowed himself to become wrapped up with the newcomers in order to distract himself. Had he been putting off coming home because pain would ambush him here?
Mikoto let Noble down, putting off the inevitable long enough for the pup to piddle on a fencepost. Trudging to the door, he slipped inside and stood listening.
After so many days of male companionship, he worried about returning to a house filled with females, but time had been passing here, as well. He peeked through enough doorways to confirm that his older half-sisters had gone back to their own houses. Were they done with mourning and getting on with Wardenclave business? Picking up Mikoto’s slack. Seeing to the needs of their annual guests.
He supposed he was feeling less blighted by his father’s absence. Although he really would have liked his opinion on wind lore.
The achingly familiar rustle of paper came from the next room, and Mikoto turned toward it. Yulin was here. He would hear Mikoto out. He might even know something helpful. Mikoto hurried forward, totally unprepared to find Lupe lounging on a sofa, nibbling on toast while paging through a communique.
Stumbling to a stop, his mind stalled.
Lupe. He’d barely given her a thought in all the days he’d been at Zisa’s. And for the first time in his life, the sight of her brought mixed feelings.
The air in the room seemed to swell and settle, and Lupe looked up. “Hello, Mikoto. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”
He shook his head. “Not really.”
“Glint emerged from your room days ago.” Her lips tipped teasingly. “Where have you been?”
“My uncle’s.”
She searched his face. “Are you doing okay?”
Mikoto was tempted to make an excuse and shy away from the things that made him want to run. But he felt as if he’d made promises—to Zisa, to Sinder, to Kyrie. And that in a way, they were at his back, lending their support.
“I am better. I will be fine. The founders are watching over me.”
Noble scampered into the room. Lupe exclaimed over him, and Mikoto explained about Glint’s gift. She listened and laughed and put him at ease. And still, he had a hard time broaching the topic they needed to discuss.
Thinking to work his way up to it, he blurted, “May I ask you something?”
Lupe settled back, her hands folded over her belly. “What’s on your mind?”
“Is it possible that you brought a stowaway when you came here?” Backpedaling, he clarified, “Not you personally. I meant your traveling party.”
“I’ll need you to be more specific,” she said carefully.
“A little creature.” He measured Rifflet’s length with both hands. “Looks like some variety of Ephemera, probably because of its size. We think it belongs to some branch of dragonkind. My friend believes it to be a wind dragon.”
“Oh,” Lupe said, sounding disappointed. She turned toward the back of the house and called, “Priska!”
Her Amaranthine mentor stepped into view, making it very clear that they’d not been alone.
“See? I didn’t miscount.” Lupe’s chin tipped to a stubborn angle. “I knew one went missing.”
Priska inclined her head, then addressed Mikoto. “Where is the hatchling?”
“He is in good hands.”
Her slit-pupiled eyes narrowed. Mikoto had no idea which animal was attached to Priska’s clan. That, along with most everything else about the Eldermost Islands, was veiled in secrets. But he guessed it must be something fierce.
“A male, then? That is less tragic. Unless he is a rare color.”
Mikoto hadn’t expected to find the source of their mystery so quickly. “Light yellow. Sort of creamy.”
“A shame,” Priska said flatly. “Many favor that hue. It is auspicious.”
“I did not know.”
She curled her lip. “You know more than you were ever meant to.”
He shuffled his feet. “I am headman, now.”
“This is grove business,” Priska countered snappishly.
Mikoto conceded that with a nod. Waaseyaa was the most noteworthy tree-kin in Wardenclave, but he wasn’t the only one. However, Denholm’s ancient grove was under the founders’ protection, not the Reaver family’s. Mikoto wasn’t sure where the trees were hidden, but he knew they were nearby. And secure.
Guessing wind dragons were a safer topic, Mikoto asked, “So there are more of them?”
Priska sniffed. “Enough that one will not be missed.”
“My friend knew of them, but he thought them extinct.”
“It was a close thing.” Priska’s tone mellowed slightly. “Their return