Confluence
Argent tried to wrap his head around the monumental events of the past quarter hour.
Once it became clear that Nona was done answering Juuyu’s questions, Doon-wen lost patience. He lunged, and her life was forfeit. The swiftness of her demise left the whole group stunned. In fact, Nona’s sister had been the first to react. Her outcry was part grief, part fury.
Tangled in a net of clever sigildry that would have made Michael proud, Senna was easy to reel in. Juuyu began again with the rote, and Senna babbled warnings and hissed invectives. She shifted blame to everyone and anything—reavers, Wardenclave, Kodoku, Argent, and even to the star called Nemi.
When Hisoka questioned her more closely on this point, Senna’s lip curled. She bitterly regretted ever carrying off the star, for Nemi had become a favorite of the ancient dragon who’d sired Doku and Kodoku. Senna’s ugly remarks hinted that she herself had been deposed as his lover … and that she’d gladly contributed to Nemi’s suffering.
But there were no more surprises. They already knew of her complicity in Nona’s treasonous acts. The sisters had consumed an unknown number reavers over the centuries, but since the beginning of the New Saga, their number was recorded. Linlu Dimityblest’s careful documentation matched unsolved cases of disappearances from the reaver community. And while not every clan claimed their crossers, Linlu kept careful records of all who’d landed in Kodoku’s cages.
Broken faith. Broken treaties. Broken lives.
As spokesperson for the fox clans, Argent could pass judgment on these crimes.
With the stars as witness, the Hightip sisters had both reached an end of days. But at whose hand?
Hisoka had a right to vengeance, and Argent’s grievances had multiplied with every child who’d come under his care. However, Hallow Brunwinger spared them from going home with blood on their hands. His blade’s swiftness was more mercy than the vixen deserved, but the conflict was finally over.
Or … not.
“What is that?” he muttered.
“Your home,” said Auriel, who’d been among the stars offering transport.
Argent knew that, of course. But the entire enclave and much of the surrounding area was buried under slowly wheeling clouds. From here, he knew his sigils, barriers, and illusions were intact. At their heart, Tsumiko shone, beacon-bright and beautiful.
As the angels left them, flashing away without even waiting for thanks, Boon called out, “Say hey to Hurricane Dima.”
“Anyone else catching a weird … is that resonance?” asked Adoona-soh.
“No. There are remnants embedded throughout our forest,” said Argent. “Kyrie is tuning the trees.”
“You make it sound like Kyrie’s putting on a concert.” Boon’s gaze held challenge as he answered his mother’s question more straightforwardly. “The kid’s hunting.”
“What’s happened here?”
Kyrie turned from his task in honest surprise, for the little winds that were usually so helpful hadn’t mentioned the arrival of another unexpected guest.
“Paltry!” exclaimed Ginkgo. “You’re early. Not that I’m complaining. We have a bit of a situation here.”
“So I see,” the wolf said blandly. He’d had to hike up his kimono in order to crouch below the level of the clouds. “Boon put out a call, so we closed up shop early.
We?
Kyrie realized that he wasn’t imagining any trick of the light. Paltry had a halo. A borrowed one. Because he hadn’t come alone. Paltry’s moonbeam peeked out from behind him, silver eyes especially wide as he watched Anan and Dima.
“I did not know there was going to be a storm,” said the moonbeam. “Are storms a Christmas tradition? Nobody said so. Not to me.”
“Hey, Churlish,” greeted Ginkgo. “Well, hey! You brought Patter?”
Sibley hurried forward then, and Patter immediately reached for him. They were old friends because of their former captivity.
Churlish let the little crosser go, and his gaze sought Kyrie’s. “You,” he said, almost sounding accusing. “You are storm-kissed? That sounds dangerous. But you like it, or else his marks would not take. Maybe it will be fine, since he has silver eyes.”
Kyrie was struck by something Ginkgo had said. “You are early?”
“We were going to come in two more days. Because Sonnet asked me to make a birthday cake. And because I am a good uncle.” Churlish explained, “This will be Pitter-Patter’s first Christmas, and Nonny thought we should come, since Stately House will have a proper celebration. Is this storm quite proper?” With a sulky look for the lowering sky, he added, “This does not feel celebratory.”
“A birthday cake?” asked Kyrie. “For me and Lilya?”
Ginkgo wryly said, “Surprise.”
Kyrie was really very pleased. He kept such a close eye on his home that there wasn’t much he didn’t know. “I am surprised.”
“Glad you’re so glad, little bro, but get back to your tuning. I’ll try to explain what’s going on to Paltry.”
He nodded, even though his work was essentially done.
Paltry held up a hand. “I can guess what kind of trouble you’re having. I know this scent.”
“You know the Rogue.”
“Since way back. Yes.”
Ginkgo straightened. “Okay, yeah. Dad said you’re the one who knew his name.”
“Shisoku. Yes.”
“And … you’re immune to dragon sway?”
“Yes. Opulence Windlore is an old friend.”
While they quietly compared notes, Kyrie crossed to where Sibley cuddled a toddler with green hair and tiny antlers. Patter was part moonbeam, so Churlish really was his uncle. But he was also part pitterhind, a mouse-like variety of Ephemera.
“You remember me, doncha?” Sibley checked.
The little guy nuzzled and peeped.
“I can’t wait to introduce you to Etienne. And to Bother, though her name’s Christobelle now, thanks to Uncle Bon-Bon.” But Sibley’s smile slowly faded, and he sought Kyrie’s gaze. “We got time for this?”
Kyrie considered the tales his trees were telling and nodded. “He is not close. And he cannot get far.”
Paltry swung his way and said, “There. See?” like he was proving a point. “Your brother agrees. Despite the doomsday trappings, this isn’t a disaster. Far from it. We have him. Best thing we can do is reinforce the boundaries fencing him in.”
Ginkgo blinked, then snorted. “Fend’s right. The Rogue really is an idiot. Can we herd him inward—away from escape—without endangering our people? Hang on. I need to talk to Michael.”
He and Paltry were soon bent over his phone, and Kyrie wove a few tiny sigils, which he flicked at Churlish, Patter, and Paltry.
The moonbeam noticed. “They are a little like kisses. Why are you blowing kisses at my wolf and my nephew? And me?”
“So I know where you are.”
“I am right here.” Churlish bent at the waist so they were nearly eye-to-eye. His eyes were the sort of silver that had a little lavender to it. Much softer than Anan’s lightning-bright ones. But Churlish’s eyes could flash. With realization. “Oh, I see. You are leaving us behind. You will not go alone, I hope.”
“Not alone.” Anan had stolen up behind Churlish, and he was looking insulted.
“That is what I said, silly storm. Not alone. Of course not. Not when your kisses took.” And drawing himself up to his full height, Churlish primly added, “Your stone wants to sing, you know. You should be kinder to sad stones.”
It was sort of funny, watching the dainty moonbeam scold an eldermost storm.
While Anan was distracted, Sibley stepped to Kyrie’s side. “What’s he mean … you’re leaving?”
“I need to get to the Rogue.”
Sibley glanced at the otherwise-occupied members of their group before quietly asking, “Are you going to kill him?”
“I do not think it will come to that.”
Sibley searched his face. “Yes, you do.”
Kyrie chose a truer answer. “I want to speak with him before he dies.”
And signaling to Anan, he slipped away.
Stately House’s kitchen had to be the coziest war room Sinder had ever overseen. And the calmest. He figured most of that was due to Lady Starmark’s influence. She might not be trained as a cosset, but she still radiated serenity. And Rhomiko’s humming from the direction of the rockers only reinforced the prevailing mood.
Sinder had set up his laptop at the kitchen table, across from Michael, who wasn’t even trying to look serious about the current conflict. The man’s feet were propped as he leaned back in his chair, one of his newborn sons sprawled upon his chest.
With half an eye on his phone screen in case of more texts, Sinder typed updates to his files. It was busywork, really. They were in a holding pattern until Fend could get Timur to wherever the Dare Brothers were. Which might be where the Rogue was. Sinder guessed Timur would be a match for the monster, since his Spomenka skills ran as much to dragon-slaying as dragon-pampering. But what about Fend? Should Sinder have been the one to go?
But … no. Trust for trust. If this was where Fend wanted him, it was because this was the most optimal division of the resources at his disposal. Their megalomaniac knew the stakes. His own attainment was on the line. He wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks.
Forcing his thoughts back to the task at hand, Sinder made a mental list of tasks-to-come. He’d probably be chasing down witnesses for days. Boon would paraphrase too much, and Hallow would pick and choose his words in an effort to be considerate. Colt was more straightforward, but he wasn’t a big picture guy. And if Sinder wanted Argent’s side of the story, he’d need to go through Jacques, who was insightful enough but prone to fashion-related remarks.
At least Juuyu would be able to offer a detailed firsthand account of the events surrounding Isla’s rescue. And Hisoka would know how to slant things. Then Sinder could frame an official statement that the Amaranthine Council could issue to assorted criminal investigation divisions.
If everyone held still long enough, maybe Sinder could hope to kick back for a week or two. Did unassailable alliances get a honeymoon? Or the unromantic equivalent. It just sounded really good right now, letting all this busywork slide and letting Timur and Fend do … well, all the stuff they did.
“Here you go, love.” Sonnet set a cup of fresh coffee in easy reach. Then added a plate of shortbread. “How are you holding up?”
“Good, I think. But awkward, too. Lots to get used to. I mean, I’d forgotten Timur snores.”
Sonnet pressed a hand to her heart, eyes wide. “Oh. Oh, I see!”
Sinder tried to think. How many days had it been? Would Timur have mentioned their bond to anyone yet? Had Sinder just outed them? Well, it wasn’t exactly a secret. Juuyu had known. And Sonnet could tell.
All at once he felt the weight of Michael’s gaze and realized that he was facing his … well, shit. Did unassailable alliances incur in-laws? Recalling Timur’s expression, the huskiness of his promises, the way his touch was both admiring and possessive, Sinder felt a burn in the tips of his ears and quickly lowered his gaze.
That’s when Deece quietly took the chair beside Michael’s.
Suddenly, Sinder was very conscious that he’d stopped typing around the same time he’d begun recalling Fend—the scent of him and the softness of him and the way his kisses lingered. Dunce and double-dunce, they were both watching him now. Could they tell he was shamelessly two-timing their sons?
Michael’s eyebrows lifted.
Sinder’s mind went blank.
Deece cleared his throat. “Sinder, can you reach them?”
“That’s never been an issue. They keep me in the middle.”
“Using the array,” Michael patiently prompted. “Do you know how far they’ve gotten? Can you tell if they’re all right?”
“Shit. Right. Yeah.” In a stretch that was already becoming second nature, Sinder checked on the state of his bond with Timur. The man’s presence was reassuringly steady, his mood calm, purposeful. “They’re safe.”
“Fretting?”Fend’s voice lilted with amusement.
“Keeping tabs on everyone is part of my job.”
“What’s put you in a fluster?”
“Parental scrutiny.”
“Bear up bravely. They cannot possibly find anything to criticize. You are a splendid acquisition.”
“Thanks, I guess. Anything happening where you are?”
“Nothing worth mentioning. Distract me later.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I mean it. Promise it,”demanded Fend. “When I return, I want to be amply rewarded for my various attainments. Give me a name.”
“Sure. I promise. Just … take care of each other out there.”
“So you are fretting.”
“Only because you’re tracking a mass murderer.”
“Trust me.”
“Promise it.”
A sudden, drawn-out silence worried Sinder, but then the feline softly asked, “What do you want me to promise?”
“Specifically? Shit, I dunno. Just … everything.”
There was an inarticulate growl that had Sinder tensing. But then Fend sighed and grumbled, “Distract me later, lovely one.”
Sinder wasn’t sure how he was going to keep his promise. He turned his mind to names that might please a feline. They needed something that would sound natural for Timur to laugh around or grumble over or say with his mother’s teasing accent or even shout in battle. Something that could warm with affection or drip with sarcasm when their cat was being exasperating. Something Gregor could manage. Something Sinder could whisper between kisses.
A throat cleared.
Sinder flinched. “Like I said, they’re safe. Nothing else to report.”
“Right,” said Michael, whose brows were still arched inquiringly.
Deece was in a pointedly receptive posture. Were they awaiting orders or … oh, hell. “Did anyone say anything? About … us?”
Michael was mildness itself. “Did you have something to say for yourself?”
Sinder teetered on the edge of confession, which wasn’t really the best of terms. He didn’t need to apologize to these fathers. Deece was a fine, upstanding sort. A tribute to his line. If he didn’t know yet, he’d probably be delighted to learn that Fend was Kith-kin. And Michael might be First of Wards, but he wanted Timur’s happiness. Even if the one cherishing him wasn’t the usual sort of damsel.
And inspiration struck.
For a name. For Fend.
“Well, shit. I think … yeah. I think he might go for it.” And waving between the two of them, Sinder exclaimed, “The fathers are strong!”
“But the brothers are not weak,” intoned a familiar voice. “Sinder Stonecairne, I need a word.”
Half-turning in his chair, Sinder cautiously nodded. “Hey, Opal. What’s up?”
“You and I have a date with destiny.”
Sinder snorted.
Opal eased into a less demanding posture. “We have a delivery to make. It should be safe enough for us to leave, our being dragons.”
“Sway isn’t the only threat to our wellbeing,” Sinder pointed out.
“And yet!” With a small shrug, the bard said, “Zeri is most insistent.”
“What are we meant to deliver? And where?”
“First and foremost, we must get the Plum Cascade to Haizea.”
Sinder knew his lore.
The Chrysanthemum Blaze was both an executioner’s blade and an irresistible lure, to prevent a dragon’s escape. The Bamboo Stave was a thief, stealing the power from a dragon’s every word, nullifying sway. The Orchid Saddle was a taunt, for the one wielding it gained the very sky for which every dragon longed. And then there was the Plum Cascade, a dainty crown of glittering pink that made turnabout fair play, because its wearer gained sway over dragonkind.
Sinder had to ask. “Is that really the best plan, turning over a weapon? Or did you somehow forget that these storms are mightily pissed at you?”
With a forced laugh, Opal simply repeated, “And yet!”
Hisoka didn’t question Novi’s decision to plunge through the cloudbank that buried Stately House. He felt the whispery welcome of Michael’s barriers, which had been tuned to accept him and which had never posed a problem for his starry companion. Interestingly, Hisoka was also getting fleeting impressions from the cloud itself. Fierce. Resolute. Protective.
“This has to be one of Kyrie’s imps.” The storms’ attachment to him was an interesting outcome.
“Dima. She is showing considerable restraint.”
“To what end?”
“For a covering.”
“To cover an evacuation?” he guessed. Usually, Hisoka would catch a sense of life and movement throughout the enclave. The wolves in the wood. The cranes in the marsh. The cows in the pasture. The mice in the meadow. The bees and bumbers busy among the flowers.
“I do not know the purpose, but Dima is calm. This is calculated.”
“Agreed. And inconvenient. How well can you see?”
“I know my course.”
Hisoka’s heart lifted. “And mine?”
“I have always known where you are most needed.”
“Usually for more than one reason.”
“Here are two.”And Novi released him.
“You’re leaving?”
“For now.”And with a gentle push, Novi quietly added, “Hurry.”
Hoping he wouldn’t end up tangled in some thicket, Hisoka dropped. And obeying a sudden impulse, he shifted on the way down. In true feline fashion, he landed on his feet, and he was pleased to find that the restrictions still in place on his size meant he could pass easily under the low ceiling of clouds.
Nothing in the vicinity told him why this was the right place, let alone the right time. Still, he sat, curling his tail neatly over his paws, and lifted his whiskers to the wind. Novi had said to hurry, so he shouldn’t have long to wait.
Within moments, he heard footfalls.
“Hang on a sec!” gasped a man. “Let me … catch my breath.”
“Remind me. Why are we running blind?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Honestly? I got nothing. Are we in some kind of trouble? Or is this just the weirdest game of hide-and-seek ever?”
“This isn’t a game, Josheb.”
“You’re totally spooked. Hey, should we do the thing?”
Caleb Dare shushed him, then said, “It wouldn’t help. It’s just lucky I’m less susceptible to sway than you are.”
“Since when?” Josheb was patting his pockets and came up empty. “Hey, where’s my phone?”
“Please keep it down. He took it. He practically melted it.”
Josheb peered warily around, then crawled closer to his brother. “Why would someone melt my phone. Or should I be asking how?”
“You tried to interview him.”
“Sounds like a thing I’d do. Seriously, bro. What gives?”
“We met the Rogue.”
Josheb’s jaw dropped. “That’s … probably really bad. Did we at least get a picture?”
“Oh, you snapped one. Right in between asking for an exclusive and getting your phone melted.”
“And he’s following us?”
“Yes. And I doubt it’s because he’s rethinking that interview.”
Josheb rubbed at his forehead, then gazed around some more. “We were … on the way to Stately House, yeah? We need to get through the gate, but … how do we play this? Splitting up’s a no-go. I can’t lead the Rogue away. They always go for you.”
“We’re in.” Clutching the remnant stone on his necklace, Caleb added, “Andor is bound to realize.”
Hisoka decided he’d had enough of being overlooked. Sauntering forward, he rubbed up against Josheb, purring at volume.
“Whoa! Uhh … hey, there, kitty-cat. You one of those little guys we signed a petition for?” Josheb scratched Hisoka gently behind an ear, then cleared his throat. “Say, Bro? Am I prone to wishful thinking?”
And then Caleb Dare was crowded close. “Hello, sir. Why are you so tiny?”
“Stealth mode?” suggested Josheb.
Just then, a faint noise began in the distance. Hisoka only needed a moment to recognize the hum of crystals, high and sweet. The pure note gained, then split into a cord that rippled outward, racing closer as more of Kyrie’s trees took up the song.
“Can you hear that?” Caleb whispered. “What on earth …?”
Josheb grabbed his wrist and peered around with widening eyes. “Nice! Kinda pretty. Kinda eerie. Is it figments?”
Hisoka shifted so that he crouched before the Dare brothers. “The trees are laced with remnant song. Kyrie is directing them.”
“So it is you!” Josheb grinned. “I’d have felt pretty silly if it turned out that you were just a kitty-cat.”
Cuffing his brother’s shoulder, Caleb took a respectful posture. “Spokesperson Twineshaft. Can you help?”
“Certainly. Give me a moment to get my bearings.”
Orienting himself was simple enough. Even swamped by clouds in a pathless section of woods, Hisoka could detect the many remnant stones that were part of the enclave’s protections. The four wardstones marked Stately House itself, and … yes, there was the gate. Which meant they were quite far from everything, beyond the pastures where Fairlee Longbrawn grazed his Kith.
If the trees were telling tales, then Kyrie knew where they were. That was good.
Inspiration struck, and Hisoka checked to see if he could borrow Kyrie’s array to gain a greater sense of … well, anything. But the tiny crystals had different priorities, so Hisoka withdrew. But his meddling had been noticed, because an unanticipated voice cut across the strains of crystal song.
“Uncle! Where are you?”
“Here.”
Fend blandly said, “While heartening, that is hardly elucidating.”
Speaking aloud this time, he said, “I am with Caleb and Josheb. We’re northwest of Fairlee Longbrawn’s pastures.”
“That far?”Fend muttered peevishly. “I’ll have to run. I’m bringing Timur, but I have little doubt that Andor will reach you first. Any sign of the Rogue?”
“Signs, certainly. Caleb remembers enough.”
“But can you tell where he is?”
“In this murk?”
“Must I corner you into every answer?”
“No. And no. I don’t know where the Rogue is. And I would rather prevent him from claiming any more victims.” He met each brother’s gaze for a moment, then admitted, “Caleb is under the impression that they are being pursued.”
“Teach those Dares the rules of dragons. And try to keep Andor from the kind of idiocy that leads to poisoning.”
“I can do that.”
“And use Kyrie’s trick. Mark him if you can.”
“Yes. Very sensible.” And when Fend left off, Hisoka turned his attention back to the brothers. “Help is on the way, but in the meantime, a lesson. The first rule of dragons is … once you spot one, do not look away.”
Josheb said, “The camouflage thing. I’ve seen it in action.”
“There one moment, gone the next.” Caleb’s attention shifted, and he said, “Andor’s coming.”
Hisoka’s wariness redoubled, because if Andor had been enough to assure these men’s safety, then Novi wouldn’t have dropped him into the scenario. “I don’t think we should wait for him. If you’ll grab hold, please?”
It was awkward, grappling the two men and carrying them into the cover provided by clouds. But Josheb was quick to adjust and coached his brother into a more secure position. Below, there came an all-to-familiar slither and the scent of unwashed dragon.
Hushing the brothers, Hisoka stayed still, but he flung a warning Fend’s way. “Have a care. The Rogue is here.”
“Mark him!”
“My hands are full.”
With a growl underlying his tone, Fend promised, “Nearly there. And Sinder says that Boon and Juuyu are on the hunt, but they’re circling out from the House. It might take a while for them to reach your position.”
“Where is Kyrie?”
“Listen for the Bamboo Stave. That may be our first and only clue.”A few beats later, Fend warned, “Since you have the brothers, I’m asking Dima to pull back.”
As if on cue, a voice came from below. “This is so annoying. I know you’re close. Did you climb a tree? Come down.”
Josheb tried to push away from Hisoka, intent on dropping several meters to the forest floor. Sway. With a grim expression, Caleb slapped his brother’s cheek, which might have given away their position if the clouds hadn’t begun a hasty retreat. Their cover scudded and wisped away, clearing their view … and leaving them exposed.
The Rogue made a half turn, watching the change, but then he looked up, straight at Hisoka. Recognition sparked in large, thick-lashed eyes, and the dragon haughtily demanded, “Drop them. They’re my prey. Fair game.”
“You’re trespassing, Shisoku. You cannot hunt these grounds.”
A sly smile brightened the dragon’s beautiful face. “Who told you my name? Was it Father?” A wink later, he was leaning into Hisoka’s personal space. “Tell me. Are you the one who killed him?”
“No,” answered Josheb, who was susceptible enough to be compelled to reply.
Hisoka skimmed backward, desperate to keep the Dare brothers out of striking range.
“Hold still. Answer me! Who did it? Nona said it’s somebody here. One of you. Were you there?” With a confident smile, the dragon drifted closer. “I can make you talk.”
This time, Hisoka steadfastly held his position, but only so he wouldn’t get in the way.
An instant later, a wolf blind-sided Shisoku, knocking him clear.
Then Juuyu was beside Hisoka, calmly crafting defensive sigils. “I am grateful you reached them in time. We would have been too late.”
“They need to be taken to safety.”
Below, there was a confusion of snarling and hissing, for Shisoku had reverted to truest form. His wings spread in a threatening display as he flexed poisonous claws.
Still serene, Juuyu called, “Boon. Priorities.”
Hisoka was impressed when Boon simply abandoned his quarry, letting Juuyu swoop in.
Shifting back into speaking form, the Elderbough tracker showed his palms to the Dare brothers, asking, “Remember me?”
Josheb asked, “You the cavalry?”
“That’s the gist. Mind a little more manhandling?”
“Rescue away, friend.”
Caleb asked, “Can we run toward the oncoming bear?”
“You got it.”
And they were safely away.
Hands freed, Hisoka immediately began weaving the tiny tracers that Fend had requested. He reached for his nephew with a report. “Boon has the Dare Brothers. They’ll intersect with Andor. The Rogue is marked, and Juuyu has waylaid him.”
Hisoka supposed his own role was to once more bear witness, though he’d step in with all speed if necessary. But before Juuyu could begin his rote, thunder crashed overhead, and the air filled with a pressure that drove Hisoka to the ground. Wind whipped up on all sides, rattling branches and slinging the snow it found there.
“Hush, Anan.” Kyrie stepped into the open, and the wood fell ominously still.
The boy took note of everyone, then raised a hand in a standard signal to hold position. He reinforced the command with a single word. “Wait.”
There was no sway involved, but Hisoka knew the sound of authority.
Kyrie took charge with a politeness that was astonishing, given the circumstances. And then he startled them all by demanding an ancient right. “Before you do what you must, I would like to speak to my kindred.” And to the dragon warily eyeing the point of Juuyu’s drawn blade, he calmly said, “Come with me. I can show you the way to Stately House.”