Long into the Night

 

She probably should have been more organized, explaining things from the beginning, but Kimiko skipped to the matter weighing most urgently on her mind. “Suuzu, do you know anything about courtship?”

“A little.” He searched her face, as if divining her reason for asking. “Enough to understand that each clan upholds its own traditions.”

“What do phoenixes do?” She was only putting off the inevitable, but she really needed to work her way up to this particular secret.

“Hmm.” Suuzu left off preening, his hands resting lightly on their heads. “In the old tradition, phoenixes make their hopes known through the singing of songs, the bringing of gifts, and the building of a nest.”

“And how do you choose a nestmate?” Kimiko pressed. “I mean, do you just pick someone on impulse and hope it works out? Or do you flirt a little because you already like them and you want them to like you back?”

“Reasons would vary.” Suuzu went back to stroking her hair. “What is it you really want to know?”

“You wouldn’t trust to chance, would you?”

“I wonder.” A faraway look entered his eyes, and there was a thoughtful mellowness to his voice. “A whole life can turn on the whim of a moment. And for all our years, even an Amaranthine cannot guess where the next moment might take him.”

Kimiko nodded, then shook her head. Did it matter why she was betrothed? Or should she be focusing on fulfilling her responsibility to Eloquence? They were past explanations, yet she’d need a good one for her parents. Tomorrow.

Suuzu continued in soft tones. “I did not know Akira until the moment we met. I tremble to think what would be lost if that moment had slipped away.”

Akira had been watching her with a solemn expression, but his gaze swung to Suuzu—dumbstruck, distressed.

With a trill that was more vibration than music, Suuzu pulled them all to seats on the floor, arranging everyone into close comfort. One under each wing, figuratively speaking. Leaning against the bed’s side, Suuzu encouraged Akira to lay his head against his shoulder. Kimiko was similarly tucked, and snug quarters and hushed tones made it easier to believe her secrets would be safe.

Akira blurted, “Is Quen in love with you?”

“I don’t think that’s the right word,” said Kimiko. “But he’s relying on me to keep an accidental promise.”

“What did you promise?” Suuzu prompted.

“To court him.”

Eyebrows on the rise, Akira said, “I’m confused.”

Kimiko’s smile felt weak and wobbly. “That makes two of us. I’m still reeling.”

Suuzu touched her chin and lifted her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Tell us what happened. All of it. Then I will know how to help you.”

Akira nodded. “Tell us, Kimi.”

So she picked a spot closer to the beginning and did her best to offer an orderly account. Akira only listened, eyes wide and eyebrows jumping, but Suuzu stopped her from time to time, asking for exact wording and nuances of body language.

“But why does it have to be you?” Akira asked. “Nothing against you—Quen’s all kinds of lucky it is you—but why’s he so set on your following through with this?”

“He mentioned something about his role in the pack. Due to certain circumstances he wouldn’t normally choose a bondmate.”

Suuzu’s sudden whistle was the dawning of comprehension. “He is the Starmark tribute.”

“Yes, that’s the word he used.”

“No wonder.” Suuzu smiled softly. “If it seems right, you have my permission to tell your betrothed that I am a tribute of the Farroost clan.”

“You, too?” Kimiko hardly believed her good fortune. “I’d never even heard of this custom, but it really is a thing?”

“A private matter, certainly.” Suuzu frowned a little. “One shared in great trust.”

Kimiko quickly signaled her intention to keep Suuzu’s secret. “He knows I’m confiding in you.”

Akira’s face was oddly blank. When he realized she was looking at him, he dredged up a small smile. “Quen must be really glad. Aren’t you glad for yourself?”

Was she? Again, the thing weighing most on her mind came tumbling out. “I told him I didn’t care about him yet. This matters more than anything to him, and I should have considered his feelings, but … that’s what I told him. That I don’t care.”

“Yet,” Suuzu echoed. “He will be counting on that yet.”

“Isn’t that what courting’s for? Giving you guys time to figure stuff out?” asked Akira. “Don’t you think you could sorta eventually get attached?” 

She quietly admitted, “Reavers of my rank don’t marry for love.”

Akira looked ready to argue. But then a different expression overtook his face. “How’s your mom gonna react when she finds out. Quen’s a good guy, but he’s got even less potential than me, assuming the goal is shiny reaver babies.”

Kimiko giggled, then hid her face against Suuzu’s shoulder when the laughter threatened to turn to tears. Instead of improving the Miyabe bloodline, she was going to muddle it completely. Would her grandmother see this as a betrayal? Or would the Starmark prestige and pedigree make up for producing children of mixed heritage?

“Oh, that’s a strange idea,” she whispered. “I’m going to have puppies.”

“Pups,” Suuzu mildly corrected.

Akira said, “I’ve met Ever, and his adorability is through the roof. Have Quen bring him along to the marriage meeting. He’ll sweeten the deal.”

She mumbled, “Good idea. Best yet.”

“Would you like Akira and me to attend you in a more formal capacity?” Suuzu asked. “I am willing to serve as a go-between, to speak on your behalf and make necessary arrangements. And Akira’s presence brings a certain balance to the proceedings, since he is kin to one of the Five.”

Akira quickly added, “Fox and wolf. Because Adoona-soh’s ties to my home den go way back.”

Suuzu hummed. “Wolf-fox-phoenix is a strong alliance.”

“You think we can swing Hisoka-sensei over to our side?” asked Akira.

“Spokesperson Twineshaft has many obligations.” Suuzu’s brows drew together. “I am unsure we can reach him for a private word. Not on such short notice.”

“Isla!” exclaimed Akira. “She’s Hisoka-sensei’s apprentice.”

Kimiko wasn’t quite sure why they were trying to divvy up the Five. Or the rules by which teams were being decided. But she weighed in. “Isla is part of Eloquence’s triad.”

“I’m still asking her,” said Akira. “We’re practically family, and home trumps hearth.”

Suuzu’s focus returned to her. “Although I am young, I have been trained in matters of inter-clan etiquette and media relations. You may count on my support as a Farroost and my discretion as a friend.”

Only then did Kimiko realize the position in which she’d placed herself. Breaking the news to her parents was nothing. This was breaking news, period. And on a worldwide scale.

“Puppies will be the least of my worries,” she whispered.

“Pups,” Suuzu gently corrected. “And press conferences.”

“I’m not ready for either!”

“Amaranthine are patient,” soothed the phoenix. “And we understand the importance of secrets.”
 

Suuzu exercised his Amaranthine patience while Kimiko tossed and turned in her bed. Only after she dropped into an exhausted sleep did he murmur, “You are awake.”

Akira sighed. “Wide awake.”

While he was grateful for the Miyabe family’s hospitality, Suuzu didn’t expect to sleep. He was accustomed to watching over Akira’s rest, usually in his truest form. But Kimiko’s room was so small, the two futons she’d brought in for them barely fit in the available floor space.

Lifting the edge of his blanket, Akira offered to combine two beds into one nest.

Suuzu didn’t hesitate. With the barest rustle, he rolled and slid, pulling Akira firmly into his chest. He would have liked to lull his nestmate with songs, but their swell would surely wake Kimiko … if not the entire household. So with no stronger barrier than a borrowed blanket, the phoenix resorted to quieter means of comfort.

“You need sleep,” he murmured against Akira’s ear.

His friend only shrugged.

“What else do you need?” Suuzu pulled him closer, searching for the answers contact could bring. “Ask, and it is yours.”

Akira squirmed a little, and their cheeks touched as he whispered, “Just thinking about how we can help Kimi. And … about what you said earlier.”

“Hmm?”

“Suuzu, you’re a tribute like Quen.”

“I am.”

“Are you not allowed to choose a bondmate?” Akira’s voice was small, sad.

“You are concerned for me?”

Akira nodded. “You said you were set apart, and that sounds lonely.”

Suuzu searched for facts that would comfort his friend. “I have Juuyu, and he has me.”

“But he can’t always be nearby.”

“You are here.”

“Well, yeah. But …” Akira’s hand fisted the front of Suuzu’s borrowed night clothes. “Juuyu calls you his chick.”

“He does.”

“Will you have chicks?”

“I cannot guess what my future holds.” He was content to hold this moment. And the one who shared it. “Better to tend to the day than worry for the next.”

“It’s night,” Akira mumbled.

“I can tend by night as easily as day.” Suuzu immediately regretted his words. They betrayed an impatience he couldn’t fully master. Maybe Akira would let it pass.

But his friend lifted his head. “Is this about my hatching?”

Suuzu sighed. Akira might share a beacon’s bloodline, but he was indistinguishable from an ordinary human. At first glance. Even a second or third glance. But as Suuzu’s trust in Akira deepened, he’d noticed the glow of something unusual. Deep within. Tucked away. At the time, he’d compared it to a golden egg, warm and waiting.

Sliding his hand over a spot to one side of Akira’s navel, Suuzu asked, “Are you curious?”

“Sometimes.” He pressed a palm over Suuzu’s hand, holding it in place. “What do you think will happen to me if we disobeyed?”

Over breaks and during holidays, they usually returned to Akira’s sister’s home, where they’d submitted to the gently intimate probing of Michael, the current generation’s top-ranked ward. Suuzu had received his first taste with Michael’s careful tending, but the spark in Akira’s soul had defied explanation. In the end, Michael had decided it was probably nothing, but it was probably best to do nothing.

Frustrating.

Suuzu could see the inner fire of reaver souls when he closed his eyes. And he wanted nothing more than to stir into flame the gleaming ember in Akira. And to feed the fire, tending it until it gained strength. Forging a trustworthy bond. One that would last.

“Suuzu?”

“Hmm?”

“You want to try, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Akira whispered, “Can we?”

“Yes. But not until we are back behind my brother’s wards.” Suuzu was almost afraid to ask. “What are you hoping for?”

“Not sure.” After several long moments, Akira softly added, “I guess because part of me is … like you said, trembling because of what we might lose if we never try.”