Inestimable Value

 

Usually, Eloquence relished these rare times when he had Dad to himself. But all he could do was stare into his father’s face with ill-concealed dismay. “You did what?”

“Arranged everything.” Dad cuffed his shoulder. “I’m taking care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

His father’s indulgent smile wasn’t very reassuring.

Quen tried reason. “Kimiko and I already came to an agreement. Surely you don’t expect me to go back on my word.”

“I expect no such thing. Don’t worry so much. I sent a go-between.”

“You … wait. What?”

“I know my responsibilities!” His father beamed. “I did as much for every one of your sisters.”

“Dad!” Could this be any worse? “I’m not a female.”

His father snorted. “Gender isn’t the issue. You have a suitor. No child of mine will go into the intricacies of a formal courtship without the support of a go-between.”

The injustice stung. “Did you appoint a go-between when Merit or Prospect or Valor were pursuing their mates?”

“Of course not. They were quite capable of making their intentions clear.”

“And I’m not?”

“You’re not.” His father was totally missing the point. “Kimiko is the suitor. The intent will be hers.”

Eloquence conceded the point, but argued, “She probably isn’t aware of our traditions, let alone your expectations.”

“All the more reason to appoint a skilled go-between!” Dad countered heartily.

He was far too pleased with himself. Who would he have chosen? Any of his older brothers would be awful, since they’d tease. And Uncle Laud wouldn’t be a good fit, since he rarely spoke. A horrifying idea crept into Quen’s soul. “Please, please, please tell me it’s not Grandad.”

His father’s eyes widened, and he actually swore and pulled him into a snug embrace. “Maker have mercy! This will be complicated enough without involving my sire. No, I chose Twineshaft.”

Quen knew his father was within his rights to hold Kimiko to a high standard. Even so, there were so many expectations heaped on a suitor. “Kimiko is human. What if she decides that courtship is too complicated?”

Dad frowned. “Don’t cheapen yourself simply because you’re afraid of losing something that might not be worth having.”

He was already growling over the implied insult to Kimiko.

But his father flicked his nose. “Watch your tone. All of your sisters know what I require in a suitor.”

“I’m your son.”

“And of inestimable value to me. So hear me out.” Harmonious held him at arms’ length and gravely said, “It’s only natural to wonder if your suitor will care as much as you already do. Or to fear that they are your only chance at happiness.”

Quen didn’t appreciate being given a speech that was surely meant for a daughter of the pack, but he couldn’t exactly deny that he’d entertained similar thoughts.

“Courtship raises questions so they may be answered. And a good suitor puts to rest every fear, making room for trust, affection, and commitment.” Harmonious quietly added, “Your mother—my Aurora—used to say, ‘Hold your suitor to the highest standard, and they will rise to meet you.’ Kimiko must prove her worth without compromising yours.”
 

Eloquence wasn’t able to have a private word with Kimiko before class, but her gaze was steady, her posture confident, and her partners rallying close on either side. He tried a simple signal—meet me later.

Thankfully, she caught on. The tilt of her chin was favorable, and she murmured, “Yes, please. We need to talk.”

Only the phoenix overheard. Suuzu’s gaze slanted his way—open, interested. Quen was quite sure he knew, and it was embarrassing how vulnerable he felt. But the young phoenix’s head tilted in a birdish sort of acknowledgment. Almost deferential. His uncertainty must have been plain on his face, for Suuzu lifted his brows and repeated his earlier gesture—meet me later.

A sensible suggestion.

Kimiko looked between them, her eyes bright with understanding. “Suuzu’s already proving himself a fine go-between. Where and when?”

The phoenix was her intermediary? “After classes, please. In the Kith shelter with Edge and Flay.”

Suuzu bent to relay his message into Kimiko’s ear, and she accepted with thanks.

All very promising, despite the cat having put in a paw. Kimiko’s calm put Quen a little more at ease, but he couldn’t really focus on Ms. Reeves, whose morning lecture began with the historical basis for the practice of tending. A much-abridged, Emergence-validating version that emphasized the beauty of trust and the strength found in cooperation.

Quen knew this version well enough, since it was part of his heritage. Glint Starmark, First of Dogs, had formed an alliance with early reavers—before they even came to be known by that name—becoming a co-founder of the In-between.

His grandsire had bucked the tradition of that earlier era, in which reavers were considered fair game. A piece of history that would have made for bad publicity, especially in places like America, where the peace process had a glossy enough coat, but the underfur was all snarls and burrs.

“Some clans are conscientious abstainers,” Ms. Reeves was saying. “And some introduce a reaver’s tending as the final rite of passage into adulthood. Amaranthine living in cooperatives, where they come into casual contact with reavers, have benefited from the proximity.”

“A sort of secondhand tending?” asked Sosuke.

Ms. Reeves hesitated. “How would you describe it, Hanoo?”

The wolf stood. “Tending is too intentional to splash around, affecting others. But having reavers at home definitely makes for a certain … atmosphere.”

“Heady,” agreed Yoota.

Ploom nodded. “Homey.”

Hanoo’s tail swayed to a quicker tempo. “Some of it’s the kids. Little reavers don’t understand output, and they can send the whole pack into a whirl. Especially if they’re stunners like Isla.”

Attention flickered in Isla’s direction, and she pushed back her chair. “That’s one reason high-ranking children are transferred so quickly into academies like Ingress. Lessons in self-possession begin very early.” She lifted her arms, showing off bangles etched with interlocking sigils. “These wards are as much for your protection as mine. While I don’t exactly splash around, my emotions still mess with my control. Sometimes.” At this, she wrinkled her nose. “Sensei and Papka are strict.”

“For good reason,” said Ms. Reeves. “All tending is regulated, for the protection of both parties. If a reaver were to have the whole of their essence drained during a tending, death would result. And the Amaranthine are similarly vulnerable when faced by those with potent souls.”

Hanoo signaled his wish to speak, and Ms. Reeves seemed pleased to hear his perspective.

“So it’s definitely exciting when there’s little ones underfoot, but some of it depends on the purpose of the enclave. Because some classes of reavers are seriously splashy. Their work areas have to be warded, but it changes the air. Like the scent of cinnamon stealing out of a closed oven or the tang of electricity that tells you there’s a lightning bolt building in the clouds overhead.”

Ms. Reeves nodded eagerly. “That’s one reason why the Amaranthine equivalent to hospitals are often located in mining enclaves. The reavers who cut and tune the crystals find that their souls resonate over great distances. And healers have found that the augmentation and amplification is conducive to ….”

Eloquence slouched in his chair, his attention straying to Kimiko. She was wholly focused on the discussion; indeed, she looked ready to leap in with questions of her own. Somewhere deep down, he wanted to be the one to answer her questions, but he couldn’t let his instincts rile over every little thing. Especially when he was supposed to sit back in the passive role of the pursued.

This was surprisingly frustrating. How did females endure it?

Maybe he should ask one of his sisters. Or Flay, since he’d be seeing her sooner.

When Ms. Reeves finally announced a break, Isla poked his shoulder. “You didn’t raise your hand.”

“Did I miss something?”

“An informal survey. About two-thirds of the Amaranthine in class have had their first taste. You haven’t?”

“I have.” Harmonious had arranged for his first taste early, probably in the hopes that it would lead to a growth spurt. “A long time ago.”

“You don’t like it…?”

Quen sighed. He liked the elation of touching a potent soul, but he didn’t like the accompanying vulnerability. Trust was hard. And he immediately felt foolish, given how quickly he’d decided to trust Kimiko. “I liked it too well.”

Her expression immediately wavered toward concern. “If this is too personal….”

“Nothing like that.” He lightly touched her golden hair and smiled into eyes that reminded him of laughing green. “He was only a little older than you back then. And I haven’t really wanted anyone since.”

Isla’s eyes had the same sparkle, her smile the same shape. “You and Papka?”

He nodded.

“Are you one of his special favorites?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Sensei still brings people to him for their first taste. Because he’s a gentleman. And gentle. Was he your first taste?”

The question was intensely personal, but Quen answered with a shake of his head. “My last.”

“Do you miss him?”

How to answer. “The person I remember was a boy. He has become someone else since the days when he tried to help me.”

Isla pursed her lips. “Do people change that much?”

Eloquence sheepishly admitted, “I haven’t mingled with humans enough to know.”

“Well, if he tried to help you, he wouldn’t forget.” She had her phone out, tapping at the screen. “He gets attached.”

“What are you doing?”

“I may not have Papka’s finesse, but I have his number. I’m texting him.”

Before Quen could protest, she hit send.

Seconds passed as Quen’s heart hammered, and his scalp prickled uncomfortably with sweat. He hadn’t known he cared so much about Michael Ward, who had listened so seriously to Dad’s gruff explanations before making two demands—privacy and time.

Unhurried and uninhibited, the First of Wards had won his trust. And for a few weeks, Quen felt as if he shared one soul with another person.

In the months that followed the young reaver’s departure, the pack had written off Quen’s dismal mood as disappointment that Michael hadn’t been able to explain or cure his delayed development. But Uncle Laud understood. “You have grown.”

Eloquence remembered demanding, “How?”

Laud had pulled him close, pressing their foreheads together. And for a moment, it was as if one of them were Kith, because Laud’s voice found its way into Quen’s mind, sharing words that were too private for utterance. To love is to grow.

Isla’s phone offered a soft ting, and she leaned into his side, letting him see the screen while she tapped her way through a brief exchange.

Papka, I miss you.
But my friend misses you more.

What’s this, koshka?
A riddle to tease your old man?
Who’s there, please?

“He’s always teasing.” She talked as she tapped. “Koshka is kitten in Russian, and he started calling me that as soon as he found out Hisoka-sensei had elevated me to apprentice.”

“Do you dislike felines?”

“Not at all.” Her lip came out in a small pout. “But I don’t want to be treated like a child.”

Eloquence Starmark
He is in my triad
He seems lonesome for you

Teach him the way to Stately House
The wards will accept him
Or bide a wee, and I’ll
come to cheer him myself

You’re coming?

Presently … and in force

 

Isla’s smile widened. “That means he’s bringing someone. Oh, I hope it’s Gingko!”

Tell!!!

Shan’t
All very hush-hush
Must dash
Shore up Quen until I reach you both

Soon?

I promise
Is he close?

Hanging on your every word
And smiling

Eloquence realized she was right.

Just then, a chime signaled the end of their break, and the classroom door slid open with a snap. Quen had a fleeting impression of red-gold fur and round eyes before the wiry figure streaked into the room, springing across tabletops and setting off a stir of surprised exclamations. Papers scattered. The three members of the Nightspangle pack half-rose but held their ground, hands pointedly tucked behind their back.

Yes, their intruder was frightened. And … strange.

Sentinel Skybellow skidded into the room, looking harried. “Inti!”

The dizzying explosion of acrobatics came to a teetering halt on Ms. Reeves’ podium, and without a sign of perturbation, their teacher raised her voice over the din. “Class, please join me in welcoming New Saga’s first transfer student.”