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 bodes well for the finding of other lost things.”
Mikoto came to sit on one of the chairs across from Lupe. Again, he couldn’t quite bring up the most essential subject. “Can you tell me anything about your new home?”
Lupe’s smile was an apology. “You know I can’t.”
“Not secret things.” He carried plenty of those himself. “I only want to know that … that you do not regret your choice.”
She looked to Priska, who grumbled and shrugged. Which seemed to mean that she’d allow her apprentice to speak. But the Amaranthine stalked to the bookcase and pretended to peruse the titles. A chaperone? Or simply ready to jump in if Lupe seemed close to giving too much away.
“I live on an uncharted island,” Lupe began. “A safe place, untouched by storms. No one can find us, even by accident. Life is simple, but also more magical.”
Mikoto nodded to let her know he was listening.
Her tone warmed. “There are sea turtles, and we ride them through turquoise lagoons. And on calm nights, the sea is a mirror, so that the stars seem to be both above and below.”
“Are the people nice?” He resisted the temptation to add, or are they all as prickly as Priska?
“My husband is gentle and generous.” Lupe smoothed a hand over her abdomen. “He’s awaiting our return. Probably quite anxiously.”
“Is he …?” Mikoto fumbled for a nice way to ask. “Are you …?”
Lupe cut a glance in Priska’s direction. “He’s gentle and generous and … quite a bit older than me.”
Priska snorted.
“And I get along well with his sister, who is his twin.”
Mikoto guessed that the hint was big enough. Her husband was someone like Uncle Waaseyaa, someone bound to a tree in some far-off grove. Lupe’s children would be strong, for their father’s life was inextricably bound to a rare tree.
When he finally found his voice, Mikoto dared to ask, “Is it a good match?”
“Tzefira thinks so.”
He stopped.
Stopped hearing, stopped thinking, stopped breathing. But a breeze caressed his cheek and tickled his nose and threatened to fill his lungs lest he collapse from lack of air. And then he was hyperventilating, and Priska was pounding his back, and Lupe was laughing and crying and babbling in Spanish.
“You finally noticed?” Priska asked. “By all that is sacred, it took you long enough.”
Lupe raised a slim hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Mikoto, is there anything you’d like to ask me?”
He did. Ever since he was nine, he’d wanted to ask her to be his. It was embarrassing to realize that it had always been the wrong question. Or that he’d always been the wrong one to ask it. That someone far, far away had been longing for a bride like Lupe. And that someone closer than his next breath had been hoping he would notice her.
“Lupe,” he croaked. “I am sorry.”
She wagged a finger at him. “Ask properly, now. This is important.”
Mikoto agreed, but that only made him more tongue-tied. “W-was there another stowaway?”
“Yes.”
He cleared his throat and fought to steady his voice. “As it happens, there are two dragons here. Well, one and a half. And they have been telling me stories about the wind.”
Lupe sank back on the sofa. “She has the most amazing luck.”
Priska’s snort seemed to be agreement.
“Mikoto, please,” said Lupe. “Will you listen to my story? The short version, anyhow.”
“I will listen.” He offered his fingertips to Noble, who’d wriggled free of Lupe in the excitement. “Help me understand.”
“I’ve always had a second voice in my head. When I was very little, my parents assumed I’d invented her. But once I was a little older and better at expressing myself, I was able to convince them that I had more than my imagination for company. I was assessed, and that sparked off a bunch of excitement.” Lupe smiled. “I am the first reach in the family since my paternal great-grandfather.”
Mikoto had known, had always been impressed. “A rare classification.”
“No one knows for sure if my invisible friend was drawn to me because I would be able to hear her … or if she nurtured and amplified my nascent talent so we’d be able to communicate.” Lupe flicked that aside as inconsequential. “Either way, I was promoted to First of Reaches during my last summer here.”
He hadn’t known that. Then again, she wasn’t one to brag.
“My family searched for answers, but all we really know is that Tzefira came to me after a long journey. She was in a weakened state, and I was the refuge she needed. We’ve never been apart, and we might have continued as one. But then you happened.”
“The day I fell into the river?”
Lupe laughed. “Long before that. It’s her fault that I became friends with Hana. She liked your mother and your sisters, but you were always her favorite. The beautiful boy with the sweet soul and the sturdy build and the steadfast heart.”
Mikoto knew he was blushing. Wouldn’t anyone? Priska watched him closely, arms folded, and when their eyes met, she smirked. But not unkindly.
“She wanted me to wait for you.”
His attention jumped back to Lupe.
“But that wouldn’t have been fair. To either of you.” Lupe didn’t shy away from the hopes she must have known he harbored. “And you would have come between us.”
Mikoto wasn’t sure what she meant. “Is that not what I am about to do?”
Lupe quirked a brow. “Are you?”
“If I woo the wind to my side, she would be leaving yours.” Mikoto glanced self-consciously at Priska. “If that is what she wants, of course.”