Page 71 of Tamiko and the Two Janitors
“In a way.” He pursed his lips, then spelled it out. “Mothergave birth to me. Dad gave birth to Lisbet. And like all tree-kin, she was bornwith a golden seed in her hand.”
The pipes behind Joe’s wall gave their usual morningshudder, so he knew his sister was in the shower. And that meant he’doverslept. He rolled over to check his digital alarm clock and got a faceful offur.
Oh.
Right.
Kip.
Easing an arm over the tightly-curled squirrel taking refugeon his narrow bed, Joe fumbled along his bedside table, then blearily studiedthe time. It took a few moments to register that he wasn’t late. Tami was upearly. Had something happened?
A tufted ear tickled his chin. Whiskers twitched, and asmall paw grazed Joe’s bare chest. Where were his pajamas?
Oh.
Right.
The thing with the sigils.
He couldn’t see much. Sunrise was a ways off. But he didn’tneed light to tell they weren’t glowing anymore. Joe shimmied out from underhis covers and tucked them around Kip, who didn’t stir, even when the desk lampswitched on. With unaccustomed stealth, Joe pushed yesterday’s shirt againstthe crack under his door. He didn’t need Tami checking on him.
Avoiding the loose boards. Pulling fresh clothes fromdrawers. Tidying away empty cans and containers. He loitered until he heardTami on the stairs, then counted to twenty before opening his door. There wereno sounds coming from Melissa’s room. There wouldn’t be, though. She’d insistedon a night watch.
Joe studied himself in the bathroom mirror, twisting andturning, but nothing looked different. Kip had explained as he worked throughthe night, teasing beautiful patterns out of thin air, tracing them onto bareskin. They were wards. And they meant that no one could sense his soul. Noteasily, anyhow. So if possible, he was supposed to avoid contact with the incomingwolves. Especially their leader.
When Joe stole back to his bedroom, he found Kip takingadvantage of the additional mattress space. He’d changed back into speakingform, curled on his side, hugging his tail to his chest.
Didn’t he have work? Tami had joked about never managing toout-early the janitorial crew. And what about his friend Ash? Had Joeinconvenienced the both of them with his plea? Come to think of it, how had Kiparrived? Was the infamous Coach parked alongside the road, where Tami was sureto see when she left for work?
Joe gently touched Kip’s shoulder. “Hey, there,” hewhispered. “It’s morning.”
Nothing.
“Kip?” He gave a squeeze, then a shake. “Time to get up.”
The redhead slept on, breathing deep and slow.
Something stirred in the back of Joe’s mind. What was thatthing about Rivven sleep patterns? They could sleep for days, almost likehibernation. Was he going to have a squirrel in his bed for the rest of theweek?
Joe took a firmer tone. “Kip, this could be bad. The wolvesare coming. They’ll be here in the house, remember?”
Still gone to the world.
Desperation made the necessary leap to inspiration.
Oh.
Right.
Food.
Still mindful of creaks, Joe opened the narrow door to thelittle-used back stairs, which led straight to the kitchen. They were steep andnarrow, and the inside wall was entirely lined with shelves used for drystorage. When he and Tami were little, they’d considered this hidden passagethrough Mom’s pantry to be one of the farm’s greatest secrets.
A tiny flashlight hung from a nail just inside the door.Their cohort for infrequent kitchen raids, usually at Christmas, when tins ofcookies lined the steps.
Halfway down, he caught the sound of Grandad’s voice. ThenTami’s. Were they having breakfast together?
Joe adjusted his plan, turning the narrow beam of his lighton the shelves. Something here would probably tempt Kip. He was reaching for abox of graham crackers when he caught a thread of what Grandad was saying.
