Someone Like Me
Tenma gravitated toward Wardenclave’s song circle, where buses unloaded streams of passengers and stacks of luggage.
Many of these campers would probably try their hand at pottery, and as Goh’s assistant, Tenma would meet them, get familiar, maybe even learn a little about them. But he doubted he’d make friends. These kids were just … kids. To them, he was old. Hardly friendship material and worthless as a mentor.
Times like this, he missed Class 3-C at New Saga. And especially Inti.
Pulling his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, he kept a promise he’d made before leaving Japan … and texted a friend.
Lonesome today. Must be the crowds.
Isla’s return text wasn’t long in coming.
Where are you?
The Americas
Can you be more specific?
Northern Hemisphere
MORE specific, please
A bench in front of …
I think it’s a gift shop
How long are you going to draw this out?
With a smile, Tenma relented.
First day of camp
Surrounded by little geniuses
Reminds me of you
Summer courses!
Where is Goh-sensei teaching?
Wardenclave
No
Yes
No!
His phone hummed in his hand, and he took the call. Isla was already talking.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were scheduled to be at Wardenclave?” Isla’s exasperation came through loud and clear.
“I didn’t know myself.” He reminded her, “Most of my travel plans are off the record.”
“But you’re at Wardenclave!”
“I am. For the whole summer.” Tenma wistfully checked, “Any chance we’re on your tour of duty?”
“No.” Her tone gentled. “Sorry, but listen. You have no reason to be lonesome. You see, my little sister is a camper this year. You remember Lilya?”
“Kind of.” Tenma couldn’t imagine why this was such exciting news. “No offense, but it was enough of a stretch being friends back when you were twelve.”
“Lilya’s eleven,” she reported, entirely missing the point.
He hung his head. “Isla, even if I were almost, sort of, secretly a distant friend of the family, hanging around with your baby sister would be just plain creepy.”
“Yes, well. I do see your point. But listen! I was getting around to telling you that my big brother is there.” Isla sounded entirely pleased with herself. “If you’re lonesome, all you need to do is find Timur!”
Strong in the way Mum’s strong, only with curlier hair and hairier arms.
With this scanty description, Tenma searched the crowds for a guy with sufficient heft, but it wasn’t easy. All the biggest people divided neatly into two flourishing groups—dogs or horses. Starmarks and Alpenglows, for the most part. Isla really should have given him more to go on. Despite being at Stately House several times, Tenma hadn’t exactly been introduced to the family.
Back then, Isla had somehow talked Lapis out of his whole “eastern bride” notion, which had been an honest relief. Meanwhile, Argent had pushed for the protection offered by a formal apprenticeship. Much more palatable.
Both Tenma and Inti had been brought to Argent’s estate, but secretly. Pretty much nobody knew they were there, not even Lady Mettlebright.
Those had been his summer courses, overseen by Argent, Lapis, and later on by Goh-sensei. But mostly by Isla’s dad, who was the leading expert in sigilcraft and wardstones … and a universal favorite when it came to tending.
Such a cheerful guy. Tenma missed his funny habit of calling him and Inti young squires.
For a while, his overseers tried to explain him. They’d certainly studied him. But for the most part, they simply let him do what he could. One by one, they brought in Amaranthine with heavy wards and haunted eyes, and he tended them. Mended them. And word began to spread that there was hope for the Broken.
The only other person Tenma officially met was Jacques, the butler. But there had also been a little boy, maybe six years old, who could walk through wards like they weren’t important. He’d been quiet and polite and curious … and in so much trouble from the fox crosser who’d tracked him down.
Kyrie and Ginkgo.
After that, Argent’s sons would sometimes kidnap him and Inti for crazy romps through the woods or walks on the beach at the base of Stately House’s cliffs. Or for starwatching from the rooftops. Or to share some rare treat smuggled from the nearest convenience store. Which was a long way away.
Tenma missed those little breaks from the monotony of protection. The excitement of a secret friendship. But he was also glad those days were over.
Traveling with Goh-sensei was so much better. Tenma felt less like a prisoner, even if he did still have to stay a stranger to everyone he met. Safe distances and secrets kept him safe.
“What have we here?” A hand touched Tenma’s shoulder. “Do you often stray so far from your protector’s side?”
“Salali?”
The whole reason Tenma had come down to watch the arrival of campers was because of what Salali had said. That there was someone like him, and that she was coming. Didn’t that mean she was on one of these buses?
Indicating the hundreds of milling people, Salali said, “This will take hours to sort out. Hours we could spend in pleasanter pastimes.”
“What …?”
Shushing him with a finger to his lips that triggered a burst of color before Tenma’s eyes, Salali scooped him up and streaked away from the hubbub. Inti often resorted to this kind of thing. So did Goh, for that matter, so Tenma simply kept his eyes shut and held on tight.
If Salali Fullstash was part of Wardenclave’s security, he had to be trustworthy.
But even more persuasive than role or reputation, Tenma was relying on the splash of blue that ornamented the squirrel clansman’s soul. Gent was an avian, and from what Tenma knew about his former classmate Suuzu, the blue jay’s high opinion of Salali could only mean good things.
Maybe Salali was only teasing again. But Tenma wasn’t alone anymore. And he was grateful.
“Do you have trouble with heights?”
Tenma thought it a little late to be asking, since they had to be dozens of stories over Wardenclave. At least, that was the impression he’d gotten during Salali’s final soaring leap into a tree that had appeared out of nowhere. Now, Tenma was surrounded on all sides by rustling leaves and gently swaying branches, for the squirrel had deposited him in what amounted to a rustic nest.
“Goh-sensei is from the monkey clans,” said Tenma. “I learned to like heights a long time ago.”
Salali tipped back his hat and smirked. “You really will go along with anyone’s plans.”
“Is that so bad?” Tenma reached into the leaves closest to his face, lifting them aside to reveal a delicate cluster of orange flowers. “I’ve seen more than I could have imagined because other people wanted to show me things.”
“Not everything in this world is good.”
Tenma’s hand came away streaked in pollen. “I know. I’ve seen.”