Mikoto and the Reaver Village (Amaranthine Saga #4) - Forthright . Page 0,86
boy. A tribute to Argent’s care. And yours.” Radiance arched a quizzical brow. “Although I really must ask why you’ve decided to ignore boundaries.”
Ginkgo looked up, trying to catch Snow’s eye. “Is she complaining?”
“Usually. But not about you in particular.” Radiance remained where she was, studying the two of them as if trying to unravel a mystery. Finally, she said, “I wouldn’t have expected her to tolerate a fox.”
“You’ve got fox issues?” Ginkgo was wide awake, now. This was one of the topics on Dad’s information-gathering wish list.
“Historically.” Radiance seemed to be listening. Probably to Snow. “Feud would be too strong a term, but Wardenclave had some trouble with foxes at the very beginning. Linlu’s ink was barely dry on the charter when a trio of hungry foxes attempted a raid.”
Ginkgo had heard similar stories from Dad. “With an appetite for reaver souls.”
“Yes.” Radiance’s lip curled. “Glint helped Gerard Reaver and his people drive them off, which gave Salali time to reinforce the barriers. But not before a life was lost.”
“You lost someone?”
“Not personally. This was before my time. Nor anyone from Wardenclave.” Radiance’s expression grew troubled. “One of the foxes caught the full brunt of a battler’s fury. When his sisters retreated, they dragged his body away with them.”
“Wardenclave’s people defended themselves.”
Radiance inclined her head. “Times have changed, and bygones are bygones.”
“Except?”
“Salali warded against foxes for more than a millennium.” She quietly admitted, “Up until a scant century ago, when Hisoka Twineshaft came with his hopes for greater cooperation between the clans.”
Ginkgo said, “Seems a long time to hold a grudge against foxes.”
“Turn that statement around in your thoughts, young Master Mettlebright.” Radiance’s chin lifted. “Those foxes have long held a grudge against Wardenclave.”
“You got proof of this?”
“Against foxes?” She laughed mirthlessly. “They smile and say all the right things. But they delight in dropping hints that all is not forgiven nor forgotten.”
“And you can’t keep them out?”
Radiance smirked Snow’s way. “Our security team knows its business, and upon my eldest son’s recommendation, Salali refined his wards. That was eleven years ago.”
Ginkgo ran through all the things that’d happened eleven years ago. Tsumiko’s arrival. Kyrie’s birth, close on the heels of Lilya’s. Dad’s freedom, at long last. And his appointment to the Five. Replacing … oh, boy.
“Two sisters,” he said warily. “Which clan?”
With a grim smile, Radiance answered, “Hightip.”
Ginkgo was still composing a report to Dad when Tenma stumbled through Waaseyaa’s kitchen door and sagged to his knees beside Ginkgo’s chair.
“Classes done for the day?” Ginkgo asked with a glance out the window. It was too early. Pushing back his chair, he crouched beside Tenma and grabbed his shoulders. “What happened? Is it one of the kids?”
“Safe,” he gasped. “They’re fine.”
Tenma’s heart was pounding, and his scent was a far cry from his usual calm. Ginkgo chaffed his arms and grumbled, “Get ahold of yourself and tell me what’s going on.”
His confusion only mounted when tears sprang to the man’s eyes and he begged, “Kill me quick. You’ll be kind about it, at least.”
Ginkgo couldn’t help laughing. “Who in their right mind would dare raise their hand against a packmate of Harmonious Starmark, let alone the almost-bride of Lapis Mossberne.”
“Sansa-san, for one. Isla, I think.” With a cringing posture, he whispered, “Maybe even you.”
“Back up. Start over. Shouldn’t you be up to your elbows in clay right about now?”
“I begged off. Goh-sensei realized I wouldn’t be any help today.”
Ginkgo tried to pull Tenma to his feet, but the man lowered himself further, kowtowing dragon-style. With the beginnings of genuine concern, Ginkgo demanded, “Who did this to you?”
“Lilya-chan.”
Impossible. “She’s just a kid.”
Tenma curled into an even tighter knot of distress and whimpered, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chanted.
Ginkgo couldn’t understand what had gotten into Tenma. Neither could he ignore what was obviously a plea for help. He hauled Tenma into his arms and carried him to the guest room, a clumsy task since the man was easily head-and-shoulders taller than Ginkgo.
Depositing Tenma on the bed, Ginkgo jumped up beside him, hauling the man into his arms. “Hey, hey, hey, now. Want me to get Eloquence on the phone? Hanoo? Lapis? Dad?”
Tenma groaned.
Ginkgo wasn’t getting anywhere. “Show me your hand.”
He surrendered both, palms pleading.
Tracing a sigil that made secrets safe, he said, “Nobody but us. You and me, okay? Now, what happened with Lilya?”
“She asked me why I’m not married yet. She wanted to know my wish for the future.” Tenma hid his face against Ginkgo’s shirt,