Page 11 of Mikoto and the Reaver Village
This one.Which meant there were other ones. Worseones. Sinder wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “It’s supposed to put meto sleep?”
“If it works right.”
“Seems right.” Slumping sideways, he asked, “What if itmalfunctions?”
“I’ll dismantle it.” Michaelson’s arm eased around him,pulling him close. “I’ll be right here, making sure.”
Sinder wondered if this is what it felt like, falling underthe spell of a dragon’s words. Helpless to protest. Stupidly trusting. Still,he managed to frame another protest. “What if it triggers a long sleep?”
“I’ll take full responsibility.” He smiled his father’ssmile and added, “I cannot offer you a harem or heights, but my home is yoursfor as long as you need it.”
“Swear it.”
“By all four winds,” he said gravely.
Sinder thought that was a nice touch, but it wasn’t whathe’d wanted. “Upon your name. Swear it on your name.”
A searching look. A small smile. “So be it. I swear to bringyou safely home. Upon my honor and upon my name—Timur Michaelson, partner toFend, lately of Stately House, guest instructor at Wardenclave, and heir to thesecrets of the Order of Spomenka.”
Oh. Double dunce. First the legendary Junzi, now a throwbackSpomenka?
He warbled a protest and knew how pitiful it sounded.
The man gathered him up like it was nothing. “Rest easy,Sinder Stonecairne. I’ve got you.”
SIX
I Spy
Sinder woke on what could only be described as asleeping platform. Which immediately brought wolves to mind, except for thedistinct lack of shag. Boon’s alcove always looked like it’d been paved inroadkill. This bed, while similarly spacious, was more sensibly fitted withsmooth sheets, downy blankets, and a lavishly embroidered coverlet—greens,golds, and enough oranges to warm the heart of any Farroost.
But this wasn’t a phoenix’s nest. Sinder had enjoyedHarmonious’ hospitality often enough. This added up to dog.
Turning his head, he noted a net of sigils, the basic sortintended to keep out noise and nuisances. Within that shimmering curtain, a bigchair had been pulled up beside his bed. And upon that chair dozed TimurMichaelson, who had bathed and shaved in the indeterminate interim. His plaincotton T-shirt was battler teal, and when Sinder lifted his head, he glimpsedpajama pants.
His movement, though slight, woke his guardian.
“Hello,” Michaelson murmured, sitting forward and extendinga hand. “Any ill effects?”
Sinder allowed the brush of fingertips, even though he waspretty sure he hadn’t dreamed up the late-breaking news flash with regards tothe Order of Spomenka. “You’re a dragon slayer?”
“Family tradition.” Timur quietly added, “You had a right toknow.”
“A ringer among the rookies? Who knew about …?” He faltered,because he knew the answer. “Twineshaft arranged it?”
Timur glanced toward the door, then rubbed the back of hisneck. “Sensei knows, sure. But that’snotwhy I’m here.”
“So it’s pure coincidence that you’re part of an intensiveon tracking dragons?”
“I’m filling in for Boon.”
Sinder snorted. “Torloo is filling in for him.”
With a gesture that begged for patience, Timur said, “Boonwas also scheduled as a camp instructor. I’ll be working with the academy kids.But I’m mainly here because Argent arranged it.”
“You?”
Timur seemed confused.
