Page 136 of Mikoto and the Reaver Village
Something that would have been so much easier if not forTimur and Mikoto having a murmured conversation at the foot of his vantagepoint. “Do you mind?” he grumbled.
Timur shook his head. “He’s not coming.”
“Heis,” argued Sinder. “That’s rather the point ofthis exercise.”
“Kyrie’s father is a fox. Do you really think he’ll come atyou, full charge, yodeling a battle cry?”
“I used to do that,” confessed Mikoto.
Timur chuckled. “Me, too.”
“I suppose you think you were cute?” Sinder could pictureit, though. Little battlers could be adorably idiotic. Easy pickings.
“I’ve improved somewhat.” Timur’s grin was probably meant tobe modest.
Mikoto, who’d been sketching a map into the dirt with astick, asked, “Couldyoucatch Sinder?”
“Ihavecaught him.” Timur eyed Sinder speculatively.“I’d like to try again.”
“What do you use for restraints?” Mikoto’s posture wasrespectful, his expression interested. “If the goal is to catch and keep, howdo you confine a dragon?”
With a final scan of the surroundings, Sinder dropped into acrouch beside Mikoto. “Primer time. It’s not as if you need enchanted chains oranything. Rope works if it’s heavy enough. Or better yet, woven cords reinforcedby an ambuscade. Way back when, they’d work crystals into the weave.”
“I am not familiar with such equipment.”
“Specialty stuff.” Ever since the Junzi had come to light, Sinderhad developed a morbid fascination for the accoutrement of dragon slayers. The fabledFour Storms were one-of-a-kind, but there were records of plenty of morehumdrum ways to ensnare dragonkind.
“They’d encase wardstones in rope. Which was crazy. Not onlydid it cost a fortune to synchronize enough crystals to properly lasso a wingeddragon, but the resulting rope would be incredibly heavy.”
“Weighted ropes?” mused Mikoto.
“Impractical in the extreme. Understandably obsolete.”Sinder glanced at Timur, who was quietly studying his own hands. “Even if therewere any of these ropes still lying about, they’d be moldering. Historicalsignificance falls by the wayside when a financially-strapped family canunravel them in order to sell off the wardstones.”
Timur lifted his gaze … and smirked.
Sinder’s confidence wavered. “Wielding them would require bothphysical strength and a ward’s finesse.”
Both of which Timur had in abundance. Dunce and doubledunce.
“Surely not,” Sinder muttered, all accusing.
“They’re really more like whips.” Timur was enjoying thisway too much. “And there are still a few artisans who carry on the crafting of traditionalweapons. Innovating on them, as well.”
Mikoto glanced between them. “You have seen this weapon?”
“Most of the length is about this thick.” Timur held out histhumb. “Leather grip. Weighted tip. And heavy as a bag of rocks.”
Sinder muttered an oath. “You keep one lying around?”
“Hardly.” Timur scratched behind his ear. “Battlers takebetter care of their weapons.”
Mikoto’s fascination doubled. “Youknowthis weapon.”
“I have the strength and a ward’s aptitude.” Timur liftedmuscular arms and described a flowing circle over his head. “Mum started me inon ropework when I was still just a kid. Been focusing on those kinds ofweapons ever since—whips, flails, chains, nets. Fend and I started practicingwith the real thing this past winter.”
All eyes turned to the feline, who greeted their interestwith a curled lip.
Sinder wasn’t used to being uninformed. “Well that’s …certainly something that could have been mentioned sooner.”
