Page 54 of Tamiko and the Two Janitors
No good. Jiro had that cornered look again.
Kip changed the subject. “Getting back to my fondness forchildren, there’s something I’ve been wondering.” He pointed to the ceiling.“I’ve been hearing footsteps for a while now—small and light and up tomischief.”
“I should just … umm … check.”
“Don’t bother. She went out the window a few minutes ago.”Kip jerked a thumb toward the door. “Care for a walk? I could stand to stretchmy legs.”
A grand tour. The lay of the land. A look at the tree.It all sounded so reasonable when Kip announced they were going for a walk. Joewas a little shocked that his parents agreed so readily. Dad looked proud, likehe was glad his son had finally made a friend. Mom even packed up half themuffins and a thermos for them.
It was embarrassing. He couldn’t wait to get away from thehouse. Except that once he and Kip were alone, Joe realized that … they werealone.
But Kip distracted him with questions—about the trees, thetractors, the outbuildings, the cider press. And then Kip begged for a muffin,which he devoured with a happy little moan of pleasure. Joe let him have allthe muffins. Somehow, it reminded him of feeding strays.
“How did you know which way to go?” Joe had been hangingback, half a step behind Kip the whole time, yet Kip had taken Joe’s usualroute without hesitation.
“Some of it’s scent. Some of it’s basic tracking. Butmostly, it’s the resonance of Jiminy’s wards. They’re protecting that tree, forsure, but they’re not hiding it yet. So it’s easy for me to get a bearing.”
“The little girl … she’s already snuck out two other times.She comes right back here.” He pointed to where the golden leaves of Biddie’stree were visible.
“In every tree story I can think of, there’s usually alittle house or hut or traveler’s shelter set up under its branches.” Kipwalked with a spring to his step. “Traditionally, the tree takes root right besidetheir twin’s doorstep. Have you thought about building Tami a little place outhere?”
“Not sure.”
“A tree in speaking form can’t roam. Don’t let anyone takeher from the farm. And by the same token, don’t let anything happen to thetree. They’re part of each other.
“Jiminy mentioned that.”
“Good.” Kip crouched at the edge of the oak glen, his gazesweeping the circle. “Wow. You’ve got yourself a regular squirrel paradisehere.”
Joe stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched hisshoulders. “I like it here, but I’m not sure I like the wards.”
“Are you getting some kind of feedback from them?”
“Not … umm … not with my ears?” Joe gestured lamely. “Thebalance is off.”
Kip studied him for several uncomfortable moments, thencrossed to the closest of the stones Jiminy had set up the day before. Withoutceremony, he picked it up and pocketed it. With an inaudible pop, thediscomfiting pressure vanished. “Better?”
Joe nodded.
“We’ll reset the line farther from the trees, and I’ll makesure you aren’t catching any dissonance. You’re probably a crystal adept, soyou’re extra sensitive.”
“Joey-boy!”
Biddie stood amidst her roots, waving.
Kip sidled up to Joe and whispered, “Pinch me!”
“What?”
“I’ve nevermetan Amaranthine tree before. They’re straightout of my bedtime stories. For someone like me, she’s a myth.” He bounced inplace and repeated, “Pinch me!”
Joe could only shake his head in wonderment. He’d alwaysthought the inhuman races were more dignified. Kip was almost goofy. Was hebeing silly to put others at ease?
They strolled downhill, and Biddie met them partway. Kipcrouched before her and offered his palms. “I’m Alder Woodacre, and I’m Jiro’sfriend. May I ask your name?”
“Chick-a-biddie!”
“Are you teasing me?” Kip asked, eyes wide. “That must beyour nickname. I have one, too. I’m Kip.”
