Show of Trust

 

Suuzu Farroost often wondered at the fleeting nature of humanity. He understood in part, for he remembered how quickly he’d fledged. Until the age of twelve, Amaranthine progressed much as humans did, but from there, maturation slowed. Days became decades, and the years became a gap that many Amaranthine preferred not to approach.

A phoenix’s trust was barely gained before death crept in and a new generation rushed forward. Reavers in their enclave were like waves lapping the shore, barely cresting before sinking away, swift in their succession, an endless backdrop to a peaceful life. But Suuzu had spent enough years on quiet beaches to know that sometimes, a little wave would carry something precious onto the sand.

Akira was one such treasure.

It was a miracle Suuzu had found him. Given the swiftness with which humans escalated through adolescence to adulthood, a single delay, a year or two in either direction, and Suuzu’s nestmate would have passed by, lost before he was ever found.

There were nights he trembled at the tenuous happenstance that had saved him from hopelessness and homesickness.

Circumstances had conspired—Twineshaft’s call for support, a longstanding Farroost obligation, Juuyu’s cautious recommendation—thrusting Suuzu into an integration experiment. He had thought himself prepared. Everyone had, or he wouldn’t have been sent. 

Three Amaranthine “students” transferred into a boys’ middle school, accompanied by their reaver escorts. No one had been surprised when the two wolves had asked to room together, which left Suuzu. Would he consider a human roommate?

Yes. If the choosing was his.

Thus, the tour of classes took on a dual purpose. In each room, the reaver would talk about the Emergence while Suuzu and the two wolves stood to one side, very much on display. But the reavers were engaging, the wolves were gregarious, and the students were fascinated. A good beginning. Suuzu’s escort would lead him up and down the rows of desks, dispensing interesting bits of lore and demonstrating the meeting of palms.

Suuzu’s only real contribution was his presence, and his one task was proving more difficult than expected. Because fear and fascination made poor nestmates.

He’d begun subtle posturing when a student showed potential—flexing his claws, hardening his gaze, looming in general. The reavers didn’t stop him because it did simplify the process.

On the third day, when his escort stopped beside Akira’s desk, Suuzu peered down his nose at the boy in his best Juuyu imitation.

The boy immediately offered his palms.

With an unnecessary flourish of claws, Suuzu returned the greeting.

Rather than shrinking away, Akira grinned at him. “Hey, Suuzu! How’s it going? Sure am glad you guys interrupted. This is way more interesting than a history lecture, you know?” He rolled his eyes expressively. “So didja pick a club yet?”

It was only the same sort of casual chatter he’d heard between classes and in the halls. Utterly guileless. Refreshingly casual. Shockingly hard to find. At that moment, hope fluttered in Suuzu’s soul, and he whispered, “Please.”

Akira glanced between him and the reaver. “What’s up?”

The reaver must have prompted him, because the next thing Suuzu knew, sturdy hands were supporting his. Careless and carefree. Amiable and accepting. Exactly what he’d needed.

And they’d become inseparable.

Juuyu had worried, might still be worried. Because Suuzu’s coping mechanism was more fleeting than diamonds or pearls … and rarer even than the petals of the rarest of trees.

A stage whisper cut across his musings. “You’re gonna have to try again. He didn’t hear you.”

Juuyu warbled lightly from overhead, where he appeared to sit in midair.

“Brother?” Suuzu rose off the floor, fully prepared to lend whatever assistance he could in this next layering of wards.

But Juuyu waved him away. “Begin your evening patterns. I have more sigils to set—inside and out—and a ward at each window.”

“So many?” asked Suuzu.

“As your kin and your closest, I regret that I cannot stay with you, but I can do this much.” His brother’s fingers flashed as he pulled another sigil into existence. “You would be surprised how much this will help.”

Already, Suuzu could feel the difference. The walls fairly vibrated with Juuyu’s care and concern. He’d been at it for hours, multiplying the strength of the protections that overlapped and interlocked, securing their dorm room. Suuzu hadn’t realized his older brother was so accomplished with defensive barriers.

He frowned. Were these for peace of mind alone? Or should he be worried that some of the patterns looked suspiciously retaliatory? “Brother, are you certain this many safeguards are necessary?”

“Refresh yourselves and return here for preening.” Juuyu curled his tenth finger, a private signal between them. One that meant he could say no more.

Which of course meant that there was more.

And that it posed a threat.
 

Akira yawned and stretched as he led the way back from the communal bathroom at the end of their floor. Reaching for the doorknob, he hesitated.

“Feel anything?” Suuzu asked softly.

“Never do.” Akira sort of wished he’d inherited some little part of his sister’s amazing abilities. Tsumiko’s reaver ratings were top-level, but he didn’t have the sort of soul that pulled at Amaranthine. “Is it safe?”

“For you, certainly.” The phoenix cocked his head, eyeing their door with obvious incredulity. “You and I may be the only ones who can safely pass through.”

The door opened for them, and Juuyu spared a glance for the empty hall. “Were you expecting to entertain often?”

“Maybe,” said Akira.

At the same time Suuzu said, “No.”

“Okay, no.” Akira shuffled inside, rubbing wearily at his damp hair. “If we want to hang out with anyone, we’ll go down to the student center or meet up somewhere else.”

Juuyu startled him by bending low enough to look him in the eye. “Thank you for the concessions you make for our comfort.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“No?” Juuyu cut a sly look in his younger brother’s direction. “If you give in to him every time, you may learn to resent a phoenix’s preferences. And he will never learn to appreciate what can only be found by leaving one’s nest.”

“Yeah, we know.” He and Suuzu had talked about it lots of times, and both of them had pushed past plenty of comfort zones already.

Juuyu’s hum managed to sound skeptical, and Suuzu trilled a sulky retort as he pulled bedding from the closet. Akira tried to help, but as usual, his best friend came along right after him—smoothing, tucking, correcting. Which seemed a little silly since all they were going to do was mess it up the minute they laid down. But this sort of thing was important to Suuzu, and that was important to Akira.

“Into the nest, my chicks.”

Juuyu’s tone was taunting, but Akira liked that about him. Most Amaranthine worked so hard to not-scare the average human that they went out of their way to be nice and polite and passive. Not that Akira was against diplomacy. He was just more comfortable with people who were willing to get comfortable.

He sank to his knees on the bed, head bowed to accept the daily inevitability of preening. Back when they’d first met, he’d been embarrassed by the phoenix’s touch. But they’d worked through stuff like boundaries and the appropriate time and place. This kind of thing was actually really nice. Relaxing. Soothing. And sort of revealing, because Akira could often catch a little of Suuzu’s mood while he fussed. He could also tell when the one fussing wasn’t Suuzu.

“Wrong brother,” he mumbled.

“My nest, my prerogative.” Juuyu worked his fingers through Akira’s short hair. “Come closer, Suuzu. I can deal with two chicks at once.”

Akira felt his friend settle at his side. Turning his head, he caught Suuzu’s eye and smiled. Juuyu was subjecting them to a simultaneous preening, the very same sifting and kneading that Akira had found so flustering when he was fourteen. Now, it felt like family.

“You should let your hair grow,” Juuyu murmured.

Suuzu chirped a crisp negative.

His brother chuckled. “A shocking rebellion. However, I cannot deny that you fit in better among humans with your hair shortened.”

“Don’t you work with humans?” asked Akira.

“Reavers,” clarified Juuyu. “And they don’t look twice at my plumage. If they notice me at all.”

“Because you’re a stealthy super-spy?”

Juuyu made a sound that was new, so Akira didn’t know how to interpret it. “Because my partner shines as you do, Akira. I yield to his greater enthusiasm for social interaction.”

“Is your partner here in Keishi? Will we get to meet him?”

“Perhaps.” Juuyu gave their heads a final caress. “More importantly, bedtime story or lullaby?”

Not the sort of question you’d expect from a person like Juuyu. But by moonlight or candlelight, the phoenix’s sharp gaze mellowed along with his voice. This was a lilting, lulling time of day, when those closest were drawn closer, and secrets were safely shared.

Full-grown Amaranthine didn’t need sleep in the same way as humans. They could go for weeks without, then crash for days on end. On balmy nights in the Farroost colony, Akira had fought his own weariness in order to experience what young phoenixes took for granted. They fell asleep to a mother’s twittering lullabies or an uncle’s wild story. There among the trees, under stars that seemed to pulse with every note and blush in rainbow hues, the colony fluted their piercingly beautiful songs.

“Why just one?” Akira flopped gratefully onto his pillow. “I vote for both.”

“Hmm. There are things I need to say. To both of you.” Juuyu motioned for his brother to lie back. “Suuzu, the elders have decided to accept your choice. In essence, you may keep Akira, with the Farroost clan’s blessing.”

Akira snorted. It wasn’t like he and Suuzu needed permission to be friends.

But Suuzu seemed more favorably impressed. Propping himself up on his elbows, he asked, “Truly?”

“I added his name to the registry myself.”

“Hold up.” Akira wasn’t quite so sleepy anymore. “Does this mean they didn’t approve of me before?”

Juuyu clucked his tongue. “Be fair. Many humans outgrow the fascinations of their childhood. The elders wanted to see if your paths would diverge.”

Suuzu grumbled, “He is mine.”

His brother inclined his head. “Being fair to both sides, it does not hurt that your nestmate has lofty relations.”

Incredulity added a note of injury to Suuzu’s protest. “I did not choose Akira for his family.”

“He didn’t know about Sis when we started rooming together.” Thinking back, Akira added, “We were friends before Sis even met Argent.”

“Granted,” Juuyu soothed. “But these are factors that worked in your favor. Akira Hajime, the Farroost clan considers you one of our own. If you choose, you may wear our clan’s crest.”

It was Akira’s turn to prop himself up on elbows. “Seriously? That’s … major.”

Clan crests were part of any Amaranthine family’s identity. Juuyu wore his as a gold lapel pin. Akira sat up more fully and touched the small disk with its swirl of stylized feathers around a roughly triangular center.

“Suuzu would normally be discouraged from accepting a human nestmate, but they are willing to overlook the irregularity.”

“Because of my connection to the Mettlebright foxes,” murmured Akira.

“No.” Juuyu quietly said, “Because Suuzu is a tribute.”

“A what now?”

“It is … a private family matter.” Suuzu pulled Akira down so his head rested on his shoulder—their usual sleeping arrangement when Suuzu was in speaking form. Looking to his brother, Suuzu added, “We do not usually speak of such things.”

“He is your nestmate. He will bear our crest.” Juuyu’s tone took on the edge of authority. “He can keep a secret.”

“Yeah, of course!” Akira promised.

Suuzu turned his body so he could speak directly into Akira’s ear. “Juuyu is a tenth child, and so am I. We are our clan’s tributes.”

“You have nineteen older siblings?”

With an affirmative hum, he shielded Akira as Juuyu transformed into a mythical bird—long neck, showy crest, and an extravagance of trailing tail feathers. It was nip and tuck, fitting into his newly-claimed nest, but Juuyu settled over them, as if further blanketing this conversation in secrecy.

Downy softness surrounded them as Suuzu told him what it meant to be a tribute. There were secret tasks and sacred roles that belonged to one child in ten. While he couldn’t reveal everything that meant for every clan, he shared what it meant for the two brothers. “We had to leave the colony.”

“Like … ambassadors?”

“Yes and no.” Suuzu sighed against Akira’s ear. “That is more my role, for I was set apart for peace. Juuyu was set apart for war.”

“And that’s why he’s a secret agent?”

He chuckled. “Juuyu is more investigator than spy, but he does carry many secrets. They are the birthright of every phoenix, but since the Founding, they were entrusted to our warriors.”

“And Juuyu’s one of these warriors?”

Admiration and conviction saturated Suuzu’s simple answer. “He is.”

The lateness of the hour was getting to Akira. Tucked as they were beneath Juuyu’s chest, it was deliciously warm, although it was strange to share the scent and softness of feathers with Suuzu. Usually, Akira was the lone chick in this nest. “It’s like you’re both of you.”

“Hmm?”

Akira shook his head. It was too silly to repeat. What had they been talking about? “Ambassador of peace … sounds prestigious. It’s almost like you’re the Spokesperson for the phoenix clans.”

“Yes.”

“Huh?” Akira pushed feathers out of the way, but there was no hope of seeing his friend’s face in the dark. “You’re like … one of the Five?”

“I cannot be one of the Five or there would be six.”

“You know what I mean.” He poked in the general vicinity of Suuzu’s ribs.

“I do.” Suuzu quietly admitted, “I am.”

 Akira finally snickered. “I’d like to go on record as having befriended you before I knew you were important.”

Suuzu trembled with ill-contained laughter, and above them, Juuyu began the thrumming coo of a phoenix lullaby. Akira recognized the melody. It was the same one Suuzu sang over him most nights.

He nestled back down. “You’ve been holding out on me, Spokesperson Farroost.”

“Few know.” Suuzu had relaxed enough that his voice slurred with sleep. “This is my secret to carry.”

“And mine.”

Akira liked this part of being a nestmate. Hearing a song with your whole body. At times like this, at the edge of waking and sleeping, Akira could almost believe he was touching Suuzu’s soul. Giddy peace enveloped him like a gentle fire, flickering around and through him without burning.

“What was Juuyu’s again?” Akira asked.

“Hmm?”

“Is his secret as cool as yours?”

“Certainly. In the old lore, phoenixes have always fulfilled one role.” Suuzu lapsed into the rhythmic patter of recitation. “Our warriors are keen of eye, swift in flight, alluring in song, and untouched by flames. We are hunters with one prey.”

“Yeah?” Akira yawned. “Wassat?”

Suuzu’s lips bumped his ear. “Dragons.”