Page 50 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
“How would I know?” grumbled Gingko. “It didn’t seem that way, but maybe I’m missing something.”
“What’s missing?” Michael strolled into the kitchen, offering a weary salute.
Gingko let the book fall shut. “How’s Dad?”
“Asleep again.” Michael ladled soup into a bowl and chose an orange from the tray on the counter. Sliding into his usual seat at the kitchen table, he asked, “Didn’t you find what you were looking for in that one?”
“Not really. But it’s interesting reading.” Gingko asked, “How current is this book? Would other clans have added branch families since this was updated?”
“Isla brought that one home with her last summer.” His lips quirked. “She’d already memorized all the crests, so she lent it to me. I assume that means it’s an accurate registry of active branch families, enclaves, and guilds. Worldwide.”
Gingko’s brow furrowed.
Tsumiko asked, “Do reavers use this kind of heraldry?”
“No. The crests are unique to Amaranthine culture.” Michael slipped effortlessly into teaching mode. “While not necessarily worn on everyday garments, all formal attire will have up to five crests on display. They serve as identifiers of clan, house, family, guild, enclave, and more recently, their role within the human alliance.”
“So … Gingko would have one for being a Mettlebright fox, one for being Argent’s son, and one for being Stately House’s gardener?”
Michael waved his spoon at them. “That’s the idea! Which means that even when an Amaranthine is in human form, you can tell at a glance who you’re dealing with. From a human perspective, this has been interpreted as transparency. In the interest of peace, the inhuman races have nothing to hide.”
Gingko snorted. “An impression the reavers have encouraged.”
“Naturally. Since it’s not so far from the truth.”
“Which is?” prompted Tsumiko.
“In Amaranthine societies, it’s considered polite—even flattering—to ask individuals the significance of their crests. To show an interest in someone’s history is the first step in becoming part of their future.”
With a sidelong glance at Gingko, Tsumiko asked, “What if someone only has one crest?”
Michael peered thoughtfully into his soup bowl. “That does happen, although it’s comparatively rare.”
“Why?”
“Ah. Well.” Michael sat back in his chair and began teasing the peel off his orange. “Consider it this way. One of the reasons for additional crests is differentiation between family members. For instance, let’s say a fox had three sons. They would share a clan marker, like Argent’s Mettlebright affiliation. And at least initially, all three would share their father’s name and accompanying crest. The eldest would carry forward that house symbol, but the younger sons would register their own crests when reaching their attainment.”
“The younger sons become branch families,” said Tsumiko.
“Yes.”
Gingko swore under his breath, which meant he’d caught on as well. But Tsumiko preferred to confirm her suspicions. “So someone with only one crest wouldn’t be from any of the branch families.”
“No, indeed.” Michael popped an orange segment into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “For each distinct clan, only a handful of Amaranthine would bear a single crest—its spokesperson, their heir, and any additional children still too young to establish their own house.”
“Then hypothetically speaking, the onlycatswith a single crest would be … Hisoka Twineshaft, his heir, and his other little ones.”
“Oh, it’s just him,” Michael said with a laugh. “Hisoka-sensei is a confirmed bachelor. And responsibility for the feline clans traditionally passes from mother to daughter. But overall, that’s the correct pattern for a single-crest designation across all clans—horse, moth, panther, tanuki, phoenix, and so on.”
“And wolf,” Tsumiko whispered.
Gingko swore again.
THIRTY
Underestimation
Argent shifted his hand and found Tsumiko’s hip, then used it to pull her more firmly into his body. He noted hazily that her sleeping clothes were different than when he last woke. The silk blend was an improvement. Sansa must have shown her the stores. Of course. They had been packing.
