Page 61 of Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal
“Nonsense!” Her mother added a touch of lipstick. “There was an Emergence. Everyone knows everything about everything now. I’ll be back in no time, so don’t start breakfast without me!”
“Wait, Mama!”
But her mother was already halfway out the door. Only to stumble backward with an alarmed squeak. An enormous Kith sprawled across the beaten path that was the woman’s shortcut to the back gate. A sleek, long-limbed hound with black and tan markings.
“Please, don’t be alarmed, ladies.” A man in a Western-style suit had obviously been standing right outside the door. “I’m Dickon Denholme, and this is Rein. Added security. You understand.”
Dickon was obviously foreign, but Kimiko couldn’t guess his nationality. Long black hair showing threads of gray had been queued at the nape of his neck, and creases showed at the corners of eyes so dark, pupil and iris were indistinguishable. She couldn’t place two of the lapel pins on his suit, but the third was the Starmark crest.
Mama drew herself up. “I have an errand to run.”
The man extended a fine-boned brown hand. “If you provide a list, we’ll handle the procurement.”
“I don’t want to trouble you.” Mrs. Miyabe tried to edge around the escort.
“No one will cross the perimeter while Spokesperson Twineshaft is here.” He barred the way with an apologetic smile, repeating, “Added security. You understand.”
Mama understood all right. And she was furious.
Kimiko was impressed with her father’s composure. Daddy acted like it was the most natural thing in the world that the Spokesperson should be interested in the finer points of a shrinekeeper’s duties. As they returned to the house for breakfast, Kimiko overheard her father exclaim, “You have? Do you remember the year?”
“A long while ago. Several generations back.”
“Do you find Kikusawa much changed?”
Her father mentioned old photos in the archive, and Hisoka suggested a stroll along the boundaries after their meal.
“He’s staying?” Kimiko whispered to Isla.
The girl made a small, secretive gesture to the affirmative.
Wary of eavesdropping felines, she silently begged for more information.
Isla was sparkling with happiness, but the only answer she offered was a quick peck to Kimiko’s cheek. Not particularly informative, but sufficient to banish most of her worries. Whatever Hisoka Twineshaft’s reasons for inviting himself over, they made Isla happy. And that had to be good.
Over breakfast, Kimiko was further impressed by Hisoka’s diplomatic prowess. Poor Dickon Denholme was already the subject of several cutting remarks, but apparently, orchestrating the Emergence had provided Spokesperson Twineshaft with the necessary skills for dealing with a changeable woman.
Kimiko decided she should be taking notes. Because Mama was being handledby a pro.
“I will be borrowing your husband.” Somehow, Hisoka sounded as if he was begging for favors, even though his words were a statement of fact. “My imposition upon your household will not outlast the morning.”
“Imposition,” scoffed Mrs. Miyabe. “Youmuststay! Won’t our friends and neighbors be amazed to find a dignitary in our midst!”
Kimiko decided not to remind Mama that Dickon wasn’t letting people in any more than he was letting her out. Without thinking, she made a sign that roughly translated,the boundaries will hold.
Across the table, Hisoka casually offered a return signal,brighten the wards.
She paused to think. When was the last time they’d brought in someone with a ward classification to do a bit of maintenance on their sigils? Was this why Hisoka wanted to walk the perimeter? Given recent events, she’d be glad of reinforcement. The next time his gaze met hers, she echoed him, making it a question.Brighten the wards?
His smile was serene.The boundaries will hold.
Noriko reminded everyone that it was a school day. “You don’t want to be late.”
Amidst the rush to gather up belongings and thank their hosts, Hisoka’s calm voice carried a genial command. “A word, Kimiko Miyabe?”
He led her out the front door, where another canine Kith sat at attention, and out across the courtyard. She held her tongue, even though she was almost as curious as she was nervous, but an odd sight made her forgot her manners entirely. Grabbing Hisoka’s sleeve, she whispered, “Who are they?”
A man and two women wearing the traditional attire of shrinekeepers were busy about the courtyard—sweeping the walkways, salting icy patches, polishing shop windows. All wonderfully helpful. Except the Miyabe family didn’t employ extra workers.
