There they were. Golden bells gleamed softly against light brown hair, so like Zisa’s. The similarities could not be a coincidence. Mikoto probably should have put more thought into his first words, but he blurted, “She looks like you.”
“We made a pact,” Zisa announced proudly.
Waaseyaa hurried forward. “Brother, what have you done?”
“I have become her brother!” The tree caught his twin’s hand. “That way, she has more than nothing and the best of everything. Us as a family. And Mikoto for a groom.”
Mikoto marveled at Zisa’s foresight. “You are always so generous,” he said. “Thank you, Zisa.”
Slipping from his brother’s arms, Zisa twined around Mikoto. “I have a sister!”
“She will rely on you greatly.”
“And visit often.” With a blissful smile, Zisa said, “You may call me Brother.”
Laughter broke out, and everyone had relaxed into indulgent smiles.
Zisa turned him loose and whispered, “Go.”
Mikoto stepped forward and looked into green-gold eyes and liked the familiarity. This might be their first proper meeting, but she wasn’t a stranger. Not really.
“Hello, Tzefira.”
She tipped her head, and bells tinkled. Yet she didn’t speak.
Suddenly, Kyrie hurried over, catching Mikoto’s sleeve. But his gaze was fixed on Tzefira’s face. “Are you like a star? Do you also have a voice intended for the skies?”
Tzefira tapped the boy’s nose, then sought Mikoto’s gaze, touching a finger to her lips.
His brows shot up before he could school his expression, which may have been rude.
She winked solemnly. At least there were no hard feelings.
Kyrie tugged at Mikoto and explained, “You will need to be touching if you want to hear her voice.”
Startled by this development, Mikoto offered his palms in the usual way.
When their fingertips met, he thought he caught a whisper, but it was too faint. So he clasped her hands securely, and furrowed his brows in concentration.
All that came through was a laugh. But it meant there was a connection. And she sounded happy.
Mikoto’s own happiness spilled over, more inwardly than outwardly, and Tzefira swayed into him. Reaching up with both hands, she pulled him into a kiss.
“Mikoto.” Her voice was light and teasing as the breezes that had always tugged for attention. “Does my voice reach you now?”
He managed a small grunt.
She laughed again, then repeated his name in reverent tones.
Would pulling away be like refusing to listen? He didn’t want to be rude. There were probably lots of things they should talk about, but words were quickly fading in importance. She was all soft curves and familiar scents. There was silk and the sound of bells, and the swirl of her tongue against his.
Mikoto hadn’t meant to tend her, not specifically.
He was willing enough. Maybe even eager, because she wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever touched. The Amaranthine were deep and dense, a darkness that craved his light. But she was luminous, with a sparkle that slipped in and suffused his mind.
“More,” she sighed into his thoughts. “Oh, lovely one … more.”
A throat cleared, and hands closed around Mikoto’s shoulders. “That will do for now, my boy.” Glint’s smile was sympathetic. “I take it she is willing to have you?”
Radiance, who had Tzefira by the shoulders, sported a decidedly rakish grin. “And have him you shall, you brave and beautiful breeze. But there’s your bridal attire to arrange, and your lovely boy has dignitaries to greet and a wedding announcement to make.”
Jostling him slightly, Glint asked, “What did she say?”
As if their kiss had been nothing more than a conversation. Mikoto wasn’t sure he wanted to attempt an explanation, so he chose the simplest answer. “Yes …?”
“You sound uncertain,” Radiance said lightly. “Did you need more time to … talk?”
Mikoto blushed, but Tzefira’s gaze was as steady as her hand over his heart.
“You are willing?”
He covered her hand. “I am willing.”
With an impish smile, she ordered, “Bend.”
“Like this?” he mumbled, bowing at the waist.
Her hand slipped into his hair, and her lips pressed his forehead. “Lovely one, you are mine.”
“Oh, that’s done it.” Radiance actually giggled. “I wonder if it will show up on camera?”
Glint turned Mikoto’s face, studied his forehead, and huffed.
Someone—Mikoto was fairly certain it was Ginkgo—gave a piercing whistle and started off a round of applause. There was much stomping of feet, and everyone wanted to ogle him and meet Tzefira. Amaranthine introductions being what they were, Radiance slid into the role of mistress of ceremonies.
Mikoto watched from the sidelines, relieved that his friends and family did all the talking. Tzefira didn’t seem inclined to kiss anyone else.
“Brings back memories,” murmured Glint.
“Do we need a contract?” checked Mikoto.
Signaling to someone, Glint gruffly said, “Nothing like that. The contract between you two has been made, accepted, and sealed. You are hers. She is yours. May your household flourish.”
Yulin came alongside and touched Mikoto’s elbow. “Rather than a contract, you shall have a chronicle. I hope I can do justice to the day.”
Mikoto mumbled something grateful, though he lost track of the sentence midway through. The Five had come to surround him—Starmark, Fullstash, Duntuffet, Alpenglow, and Dimityblest. On every side, they gazed at him with universal satisfaction.
“Is it really that strange?” he managed.
“We need a mirror,” remarked Hannick.
Salali snapped his fingers. “Ginkgo. Your phone?”
The half-fox bounded over and produced the device. Snapping a picture, he studied his phone’s screen, and eyed it critically before handing it off. “It’s prettier in person.”
In the photograph, Mikoto’s eyes were as wide as a first-time camper’s fresh off the bus. And in the center of his forehead was a mark. Not quite a sigil. It seemed to be more decorative.
“The colors keep shifting and changing,” said Ginkgo. “Betcha Tenma calls it prismatic.”
“Is it a blaze?”
Glint took his arm and cleared his throat. “Radiance would call it a miracle.”
Mikoto smiled at that. It was her pat answer whenever anyone asked her about the star that marked her forehead.
“My boy, do you understand what this means?”
“He doesn’t,” said Salali. “Who wants to tell him?”
“Choose me!” Zisa wiggled into their midst and flung his arms around Mikoto’s shoulders. Just like always. “I am his brother-in-law, so it should be me.”
All five yielded with smiles.
“What do you wish to tell me, Brother?”
For once Zisa didn’t fritter around the edges. “Waaseyaa has my blessing. You have Tzefira’s. Which is different, but the same. Are you glad? Glint is.”
Mikoto scanned the group. Hannick was thumping Glint’s shoulder. Bram Duntuffet and Salali were laughing against each other’s shoulders, as if to hold each other up. What was so funny?