“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 cool clothes to his face. Yulin brought a tray, which contained a selection of his favorite First Day treats. Mother must have prepared it.
“Drink,” urged Yulin, pressing a glass of water into his hand. “And listen.”
Downing half the glass in one go, Mikoto took a moment to register its sweetness. It had been laced with something. A curative, no doubt. From the grove.
“Leave the formal attire for another time. After your induction,” ordered Yulin. “Go and meet the buses as you usually would.”
“Who will give the welcoming address?” Traditionally, that privilege belonged to the headman.
Uncle answered, “Radiance is both ready and willing.”
Glint’s bondmate was a force few knew they should be reckoning. Mikoto was more than a little in awe of her. And grateful. She was the reason he was allowed to mingle with the Guard, which was largely made up of her sisters and daughters, and their daughters in turn.
Mikoto drank the remainder of his dose before recalling something important. “How long will he sleep?”
“Days. Perhaps a week.” Yulin quietly added, “He has not been getting proper rest.”
Uncle murmured, “He still cries for Path.”
Of all the Kith in Wardenclave, Glint had been closest to Path. They went way back. Perhaps all the way back. Mikoto had heard the red hound passingly referred to as the oldest Kith in Wardenclave. But for all their years, Kith had their limits. They aged. They ended.
Mikoto hadn’t realized Glint was still grieving.
“Come by us,” offered Uncle. “Zisa will make room for you in his little house, though you will have to share with Sinder and Timur.”
His heart leapt, but he shook his head. “I should not impose on guests.”
“You will honor them by your presence.” Yulin clapped his hands, settling the matter with a soft smile. “And flatter them by the delight you take in theirs.”
Mikoto gave in with a nod.
Yulin began packing his things.
Staring fixedly at the big hand Mikoto still held in both of his, he asked, “How did he know I am in love?”
Silence stretched for so long, he risked a peek at his companions.
Uncle’s expression was soft, but he only shook his head. As if such mysteries had no answers.
Yulin’s fingertips brushed Mikoto’s arm as he offered the simplest answer. “Because you are.”
Mid-high had come and gone before Mikoto made his way toward the Circle Green. Buses were already arriving, and he wanted nothing more than to quicken his steps. But a little dog with short legs and a shorter attention span checked his stride at every turn.
Mikoto was sorely tempted to scoop up and pocket Noble. But no reaver set his own convenience ahead of proper training. It would go against everything the In-between was founded upon.
The Amaranthine were patient with humans, treating them as equals despite their differences. And each clan looked to the animals with which they were associated. Life was life, even brief lives. And young lives needed guiding.
So Mikoto slowed his steps and smiled over his puppy’s antics.
Had he looked this silly and small to Merl when they first met?
Might Noble become a loyal friend if Mikoto was loyal first?
Loyalty. It defined him, yet his attachment was so hard to put into words. Maybe because it was a feeling. A sense and a sureness. A symptom of the season.
He breathed deeply and knew it was summer. Sunlight seemed to dance, and with it came the certainty that she was back. It was always like this when Lupe was near. Ever since the summer when a long jump to a slippery stone nearly ended in tragedy. But Lupe was a strong swimmer. She’d pulled him onto the riverbank, forced the breath back into his lungs, and hugged him tight until Merl arrived in a thunderclap and the day dissolved into confusion.
They downplayed the accident, since no harm was done. Yet Lupe’s heroics brought about two monumental outcomes. One that stirred Mikoto’s young heart to devotion. And one that would carry her far from Wardenclave. Because saving Mikoto brought Lupe to Priska’s attention.
Priska of the Runefarer clan.
Priska of the Eldermost Islands.
She was a recruiter who traveled through the various camps, seeking young reavers whose aptitudes and inclinations fit the ever-shifting needs of her cooperative.
Nobody ever said what happened on those distant, undisclosed islands, except that it was important. As was secrecy. No reaver returned from a placement with the Runefarer clan.
Until now.
Lupe had sent word through her best friend, Mikoto’s sister Hana, to expect her arrival and to arrange for accommodations. She was returning with Priska for one last summer.
One last chance.
Part of Mikoto knew it was too late. Lupe had made her choice, and his duty was to Wardenclave. It wouldn’t do any good to confess his attachment to another man’s wife. Even if the reaver way allowed for certain … exceptions. But there was another part that refused to be ignored.
Against all odds, Lupe was returning. There had to be a reason. And Mikoto couldn’t help hoping it was him.
SIXTEEN