Page 143 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
Gingko covered his face. “Sorry, Dad.”
Argent wondered if it mattered anymore. “While I would have preferred to put off their investigation, Naroo-soh’s interest is my own fault. He picked up my trail in England. The wolf would have been at our door eventually.”
“About that,” Gingko mumbled. He abandoned his vandalism of the tabletop and sat on his hands. “They’ll be here tomorrow.”
“The pack?”
Gingko abased himself so low, he was groveling in his chair.
“There’smore?” Argent asked incredulously.
“I didn’t know who Poesy was, I swear. He doesn’t act like anybody important.” Gingko rushed to explain, his words tumbling faster. “And he’s always been good to me. That first time I went out, he’s the one who found me and introduced me to Kel. But he never actually gave a name, and I never wanted to ask, since I didn’t have one I could give. So I was just Gingko, and he was just Poesy. But when they started plastering faces all over the media … after the Emergence ….”
“You realized something of import?”
Gingko mumbled a handful of syllables, completely unintelligible.
But Argent knew. Covering his face, he wearily asked, “Who did you say, my gadabout son?”
“Hisoka Twineshaft.”
“I see.” By some miracle, Argent kept his own panic under wraps. “And who is among the frustratingly vague ‘they’ we expecting on our doorstep tomorrow?”
Cringing miserably, Gingko answered, “The Five.”
SIXTY TWO
Four out of Five
“I trust Hisoka-sensei,” Michael said again, though his hands were shaking. “Did Gingko say what time?”
“No.” Argent reached across and slipped a finger under the knot giving the man trouble. With the twist of his claw, he severed the twine. “Only that it would be today.”
“The Five.” Michael mussed his already-wild hair. “If they’re all here, Nona wouldn’t dare try anything.”
“Unless she has rallied them to her side,” Argent pointed out.
His friend considered that for a solemn second, then shook his head. “Hisoka-sensei wouldn’t be fooled.”
“Nona speaks for the fox clans. She is one of the Five.”
“ItrustHisoka-sensei.” Michael caught Argent’s hand and urgently whispered, “He offered me a whisker.”
For the first time since Gingko’s late-night bombshell, Argent felt better. “Then it is as you say. We have nothing to fear.”
“Right. Well. At least you can receive them in fine style.” From the bundle, Michael lifted a shimmering garment dyed the same blue as Argent’s blaze. “These arrived while you were away.”
Argent fingered the fabric appreciatively, then explored the remaining contents of the package. “You spared no expense.”
Michael only nodded and held out the foundation garment.
With a certain amount of reverence, Argent dressed in the fashion of his people. Embroidery trimmed the full sleeves, delicate as a tracery of frost on window panes. Memories stirred—flashes of his mother, his father, his siblings. Had the Emergence found them safe? Did they ever spare a thought for the reckless son who’d never returned from his proving voyage?
He’d had such grand plans. To chart his own course. To circle far islands. To find a lost grove. To register his crest. To prove himself worthy of the clans’ trust. Instead, he’d met a pair of ravaging vixens and rescued a tiny beacon. And in trying to settle her safely with her clan, he’d lost everything. Perhaps forever.
“It suits you,” Michael said softly.
The cool drape of cloth against his skin felt good and right. And pride rose with frightening ferocity in Argent’s soul. Although there was no clan insignia, these were the Mettlebright colors. A silent declaration of his place among his people. He would face the Five today, not as a slave, but as a fox.
