Page 33 of Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal
Quen chuckled. “Why do you keep going back to that? Yes, in my truest form, I look a whole lot like Rise. If a bit bigger.”
“Can I see?”
“Rise is here because youcan’tsee. Come on. You can sit in front.”
Tenma had no clue how to board a dog without yanking fur or jabbing potentially sensitive areas with his boots. But before he could ask, Quen was lifting him, which made two things glaringly obvious. Quen was ridiculously strong. And Quen wasn’t touching the ground.
“Allow me,” he said, all composure.
Rise took off at a lope that drove Tenma back against Quen’s chest. Why did everything end up so awkward? It was like … the harder he tried not to offend, the worse things came out. “Sorry.”
“Grab on with both hands and grip with your knees,” said Quen. “And I would be pleased to show you my truest form sometime. But let’s wait for daylight, shall we?”
“Makes sense.” Tenma gingerly tangled his fingers in a thick ruff of fur. He mumbled, “Was it rude to ask?”
Quen hummed. “Not exactly rude, but neither is it something to spring on a passing acquaintance. But with someone you already know, they’d probably take it as a compliment.”
“Really?”
“How can I put this delicately?” Amusement seeped into his tone. “You’re inviting me to change into the form of a predator, presumably in close quarters. If my savagery matched my size and strength, nothing could save you. Yet you trust me. And I like that.”
“I do trust you.” It felt good to say it.
“Here we are.”
The forest transitioned into a garden, beyond which stood several buildings. The style was old-fashioned—scalloped tiles and ornamental ridgepoles climbing by tiers, long porches, and covered breezeways. They passed through four different courtyards before Rise came to a halt before a modest pavilion.
Sliding off, Tenma paused to thank the Kith.
“No need for goodbyes. He lives with me,” said Quen. “It’ll be us and Rise and …”
“Runt!”
Tenma turned at the barked call. Two figures strolled along the wide porch across the garden. Lantern light glinted on copper cloth, so he assumed this was one of Quen’s relatives. A flash of movement behind his companion looked to be a tail. So they were both Amaranthine—dog and wolf.
Quen sighed. “Not the brother Iintendedto introduce you to, but he’ll want a whiff. Merit’s firstborn and exceedingly protective.”
“Are you in trouble for bringing me here?” Tenma whispered.
“No. It’s okay.” Quen hooked his arm and guided him along. “But you know how it is. Greetings are an important part of being good hosts.”
Tenma’s hand stole into the pocket that held the sigil. His heart was hammering, but he was pretty sure his queasiness wasn’t a recurrence. Just plain old nerves. When they mounted the stairs at the end of the porch, it became increasingly clear that Quen’s brother was huge, and the wolf was even bigger. Without much in the way of dignity, he clung to his companion’s arm with his free hand.
Quen made a soft little tutting noise, then lifted his voice. “Good evening, Brother. And to you, Boon. What brings you here?”
“What else? A trail.” He offered his hands to Quen, but in a perfunctory way. Keen yellow eyes remained fixed on Tenma. “I’ve been hunting. But who’s this?”
For the first time, Tenma could appreciate the fact that for all their impressive physique, Hanoo, Yoota, and Ploom were adolescents. Adult wolves carried more muscle, and this one radiated a more primal quality of wildness. Maybe because the Nightspangles were city boys, and this wolf had none of their ability to blend in.
The wolf’s tail swayed the way Hanoo’s did when pleased, which Tenma took for a good sign. He touched palms with the wolf, but words failed him.
Eloquence smoothly handled things. “Boon, this is my classmate from New Saga, Tenma Subaru. Tenma, this is Boonmar-fen Elderbough, a formidable tracker and a friend of our clan.”
“M-may I ask about your name?”
“Sure, kid. That’s real nice and proper of you. And I don’t mind going through the formalities if Merit don’t.”
“Doesn’t,” sighed Merit. “Who taught you Japanese?”
