Page 22 of Mikoto and the Reaver Village
Which put one there.
He cleared his throat and said, “I was worried you two wouldbe homesick.”
Kyrie tore his gaze from the passing scenery in order tocheck on Lilya. His eyes were more awake away from home. And not stuck to thepages of a book.
Slipping a hand into hers, Kyrie softly asked, “Mom wantedto know?”
“Nah. She’s got too much faith to fret.” Ginkgo’s fox earsdipped, and he pocketed his phone. “But you know Dad.”
“Send a picture,” suggested Kyrie.
Ginkgo wrinkled his nose. “And end his suspense?”
“If he is not sure we are safe, he will come andmakesure.” Kyrie leaned into Lilya, composed and already posing. “You know Dad.”
Out came the phone, and they took enough goofy pictures toreassure Uncle Argent.
Lilya tugged Ginkgo’s sleeve. “Send them to Papka and Mum,too.”
“You got it, little girl.”
Not that her parents would be worrying, either. Maybe it wasbecause they were used to the comings and goings of their children. There weresix of them now—Darya, Timur, Isla, Annika, Lilya, andVanya. And Ginkgo had told them a secret. That Papka and Mum would be addinganotherbaby brother or sister to the family. By the time they returnedhome at the end of summer, they’d be able to tell that Mum was carrying.
Because of Lilya. That’s what everyone said.
They were trying again because of her.
Ginkgo tapped again and tweaked her ear for good measure.“Where’d that smile run off to?”
“Not far. Right here.” She leaned into him and shut her eyesagainst the future.
Kyrie whispered her name, and that gave her the courage toopen them again.
“Right here,” she repeated, because if she had a choice, shealways would be.
He smiled for her, a small smile that mostly lurked in hiseyes. Careful and quiet, as if he were always surrounded by timid creatures whowould startle and flee the moment they noticed him. Kyrie was good at goingunnoticed. A surprising quality in someone who didn’tlooksubtle. Allbecause of his heritage.
Kyrie’s dad was slim and sly and sloppy and snooty,sometimes all at the same time. Uncle Argent was a fox with important friends.Sometimes he traveled, but he said he liked Stately House best. When home, hewas never far from Kyrie’s mom, who was small and dainty and wise and kind. Anda beacon, too. Just like Lilya.
But Kyrie was a fosterling.
Aunt Tsumiko would only ever talk about the story behind hisname. But Naroo-soh had once mentioned her being there for the birth. So sheknew more than she was telling. And Lilya’s sister Isla, who came back everytime Hisoka-sensei visited Papka, had been arguing with Lord Mossberne aboutcoloration and dragon clans when one of them let slip that Kyrie had a sire.
That meant Kyrie’s mother had been the human, and his fatherhad been the dragon.
Kyrie was a crosser. Like Ginkgo.
Only Kyrie didn’t have fox ears and a tail like Ginkgo, whowas a younger, scruffier version of Uncle Argent. Instead, Kyrie’s heritageshowed up in scales and spots and horns. And in full daylight—like rightnow—you could tell that his hair was the rich, dark purple of the auberginesfrom Mare Withershanks’s garden, only glossier and swishier. Kyrie kept hishair long and left it loose. A curtain to hide behind.
Lilya’s brother was stronger than Papka.
He was faster than Minx.
He was clever with sigils and stones.
He was levels above Lilya in school.
And still people found it necessary to remind her that theyweren’t true siblings. As if being the family’s greatest disappointment hadrobbed her of sense. As if she didn’t understand what was coming.
