Page 159 of Tamiko and the Two Janitors
“Food’s getting cold.”
And there was laughter and teasing and coaxing and acompromise. Until Flootie remembered the quiet one in the corner. She proppedher hands on her hips and accused, “Youknew!”
“Can’t deny it,” said Ash.
Harrison asked, “You, too?”
“That’s the gist, but not the whole story.” Ash pulled out achair for Tami. “How about we have mercy and feed Kip. We can talk things overwhile we eat. Because that’s where those ulterior motives kick in.”
Tami leaned forward. “Like I said, we wanted to tell youfirst … because we need your support. I want you to help us announce the truthabout Ash and Kip to the whole town. On Dichotomy Day.”
FORTY-EIGHT
Entourage and Retinue
Ash loved his dad. Cyril liked to blame it on making adramatic first impression, but Ash figured he was a little more discerning thanhe’d been as a half-plucked chick, when fascination and adoration wereeverything and enough. Love was all mixed up with respect and trust and pride …and at the moment, a desperate wish to go to him.
“Settle your wings, boy.” Rook’s big hand reached for his.“He knows we’re here. He isn’t alone.”
Three tiers of Bellwether College’s auditorium were packedwith a standing-room-only crowd, and not simply because attendance wasmandatory for students. Their parents had been invited, as had all alumni. Andthen there were the members of the press. They’d been afforded folding chairs,and the orchestra pit bristled with cameras and microphones.
Because Hisoka Twineshaft had been kind enough to alert themto his schedule.
Ash couldn’t have navigated the crush on the main floor anymore than he could have worked his way into the balconies. But what most people—meaninghumans—didn’t realize was that well-warded box seats overlooked the stage.
Bellwether’s academic rigor was noteworthy, but the collegewas most famous for its dedication to the performing arts. And Cyril was themost generous of patrons. Naturally, his box was large, more of a balcony,really. And it was crammed with his ever-increasing family.
Ash had a place there. One he was glad to own. But when Rookinvited him into the relative hush of Doon-wen’s private box, he trailed afterhim as he’d always done.
A light rap sounded on the box door, and Jiminy poked hishead in. “Room for one more?” he asked cautiously.
“You can come in if you ward the door behind you.” Rook blandlyasked, “Aren’t you supposed to be part of the welcoming committee?”
“I convinced Himself that I’m more effective if I have thehigh ground.” Jiminy looked only slightly less like a barista in his dark suit.
Rook’s brows lifted. “Who modifies that pronoun?”
“Lord Mettlebright.” Jiminy added one last sigil to thedoor. “He’s on edge, and that’s putting it kindly.”
“He expects trouble?” Ash asked.
“He’sreadyfor trouble.” Jiminy’s posture shiftedinto lines of confusion. “I haven’t ever dealt with foxes. Are they all asprickly as he is?”
“You know better than to generalize,” scolded Rook.
Jiminy’s chin dipped. “I know, but he’s their spokesperson.”
Rook slowly shook his head. “Argent is … unique.”
Ash tuned them out.
He was still so worried about his father.
Honestly, he was also a little ashamed. He’d been so sure ofhimself when he’d told Tami that he didn’t care about bullies and brats. Becauseleaving things to their go-between no longer seemed like such a good idea. Notbecause Ash was afraid of humans. That was the worst kind of generalization. Itwas because he was afraid for Cyril. And that made his wings jump and his griptighten and his heart pound a fearful rhythm.
Caring for someone was vastly different than taking care ofyourself.
As he sat on the edge of his seat, fingers locked withRook’s, he guessed he owed Tami an apology. How often would he put her in aplace just like this—helpless on the sidelines while someone precious steppedinto potential danger.
