Page 96 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
Naroo-soh supported the man down a steep slope; Argent followed, still carrying Tsumiko. She was first struck by the absence of wind. An earthen floor muffled their footfalls and stirred up the scent of soil. Their descent ended in a breathless, lightless space. Tsumiko leaned her head against Argent’s shoulder and closed her eyes to keep the darkness out.
“A moment,” said Naroo-soh.
Light bloomed against Tsumiko’s eyelids, and they watched Naroo-soh use the torch he lit to ignite those in brackets around the space. Six grottoes the size of horse stalls opened onto the central cave.
“The women we found were cared for on the most basic level—food, water, and shelter. Now that we’ve learned what to look for, we’ve uncovered several more of these hideaways. The scents are always the same—old earth, fresh straw, wool blankets, blood, and pregnant women.” Disgust laced Naroo-soh’s voice. “He gathers them up, stables them in remote hovels, and breeds them.”
As her eyes slowly adjusted to the erratic dance of flames, Tsumiko noticed that Naroo-soh’s two Kith companions crouched at Argent’s feet.
“What do they want?”
“Whatelse?” Argent muttered. “A taste.”
She reached down, and both wolves jumped to their feet, nuzzling her palm. “Why?”
“Call it what you like—instinct, intelligence, discerning taste.” His brow quirked. “You are under no obligation to tend every Kith and Kindred who crosses your path.”
“Is it all right, though?”
“You have no restraint.” Argent lowered himself to one knee, keeping her in the circle of his arms, encouraging her to sit on his bent leg. “You might harm them.”
Tsumiko stroked the closest wolf’s thick ruff of winter fur. “Can you help me control the flow? Is that possible, since we’re connected?”
“I … do not know.”
He sounded intrigued. Did he always rise to meet challenges? She asked, “Would you like to try?”
With a soft hum to the affirmative, his hand covered hers. Lacing their fingers, he turned her palm upward, supporting it with his own. “Only a little. Concentrate on bringing power to your hand.”
She imagined the little trickle that Michael’s amethyst beads allowed. Only instead of opening herself up to Argent, she envisioned the brightness of her soul pooling in her palm.
“Do not push, do not flow.” He spoke directly into her ear. “Let it well up, seeping slowly.”
Tsumiko was conscious of his hold on her. Not so much his arms; something more intangible had clamped around her—irresistible in its dominance, sure in its guidance. It was the strangest sensation, as if strong hands had wrapped around her soul and held it safe.
The wolves whined and licked her fingers, and she stifled a giggle. “Tickles.”
Argent hooked his chin over her shoulder, his breathing slow and steady. Very different from past tendings, which often left him shuddering.
A throat cleared.
Both Naroo-soh and Stewart were staring at them.
Argent’s voice was low and calm. “Miss Hajime is newly apprenticed. She is untrained, but shows promise. She wished to try tending your Kith.”
“Some lessons cannot be learned from books,” Naroo-soh said, his tone approving. “My two beggars are better for the attention.”
Tsumiko laughed at the wolves’ wildly wagging tails. “What are their names?”
“The male is Risk; the female is Dare.” His gaze turned speculative. “It is fortunate that your soul is so bright. Your cousin will need such tending.”
She shook her head. “My teacher told me that a reaver can’t lend their power to another reaver.”
“Not Stewart’s lady.” Naroo-soh’s yellow eyes glinted eerily in the torchlight. “You must tend the life she carries.”
FORTY NINE
Fallowfield
