Page 127 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
Lights showed in a few of the dormitory windows—the soft glow of nightlights, the brighter shine of reading lamps. Sister Magdalena was still awake. Maybe one of the little ones was sick.
Peace settled over Tsumiko’s soul, but it was mostly nostalgic. How could she reconcile the difference between what had always felt good, right, and natural … and the person she’d become. What had she retained? Did any of the changes mean she’d grown?
While here, Tsumiko had been so sure of her future. She’d studied to become a teacher, and she’d enjoyed working with the children, especially the orphans. Because she’d been one, too. She would have contributed in countless small ways to their lives, but she’d walked away. Chasing a fortune. Finding a family, albeit an unconventional one.
“Am I doing the right thing?” she whispered.
A squeaky mewl came from inside her coat, and she unzipped it far enough to reveal the dragon-child’s face. Red eyes blinked and came into focused, and he made a funny little gurgling sound.
“So he’s decided to speak up,” said Argent.
Tsumiko stopped in her tracks, for it was as if a voice asked,“Aren’t you doing what you always wanted? Here is one who has need of mercy.”
Could it be this simple?
Her plans for the future hadn’t truly changed, but their focus had shifted. Everything about her upbringing with the sisters of Saint Midori’s had prepared her for a new calling. And everything she’d been given would make it possible.
Everything crystalized, and Tsumiko laughed at herself.
“Something amuses you?” inquired Argent.
“I’m doing what I always thought I’d be doing,” she said. “But in a way I didn’t know I could and with a people I didn’t know existed.”
“I would congratulate you, since you are clearly pleased by this epiphany, but your terms are frustratingly vague.”
“Iampleased.” Tsumiko added, “And I’ll need your help.”
Argent regarded her closely. “Tell me what you want.”
“To make a home for children who need one.”
“The hybrids?”
“Yes.” She warmed to the idea. “Stately House is isolated, warded, and closely guarded. You raised Gingko, so you know what to do. Michael and Sansa, too. There’s plenty of room and money. And if the children need tending, I have more than enough.”
“I cannot argue that.” Argent tucked his chin to his chest. “But you would draw the attention of the In-between.”
“Once you’re free, that won’t matter anymore.” She hesitated. “Unless … you don’t like the idea?”
“Many hybrid children will be as unwanted as this one was. And if Naroo-soh is correct, they are at risk.” A soft growl vibrated between them, and the baby’s gaze switched to Argent. “I am certain Gingko will also support your plan.”
“Thank you.” They would give them a home and teach them how to be the best of all worlds. Starting with this little one, who needed them as much as he needed a name. An idea sparked, and Tsumiko started along the path again, aiming for the central courtyard. “I want to show you something.”
A stone archway spanned the broad entrance, and words were chiseled deep into the stone. Argent scanned the Latin and translated, “God Have Mercy.”
“Yes.Kyrie elaison... my favorite song and the school’s motto. I thought Kyrie might make a good name for a child who needed mercy and found it.”
“Kyrie,” he said, testing the syllables.
“Do you think it’s a good name for a boy who’s part dragon?” Tsumiko asked. “I don’t know if they have rules about names.”
“Many clans—like the wolves—have strict naming conventions, but dragons do not. Your choice suits his situation.” With a measure of formality, Argent declared, “You are Kyrie Hajime-Mettlebright of Stately House, and if your mother has her way, you are the first of many.”
“Amen,” she whispered.
They remained there, under the graceful arch with its Latin prayer. But Tsumiko’s reverie was overturned by an unsettling swell of fury. She spun, needing to pinpoint its source. Argent slid in front of her as an enormous fox stepped daintily into the open. Her green eyes glittered, and her many tails lashed.
Had Nona healed already? No. For a second vixen limped out of the shadows, and the danger doubled.
