Page 33 of Mikoto and the Reaver Village
“Michaelson?” Mikoto murmured.
Timur, who’d returned to his side once it was obvious thatSinder didn’t need help, angled his head to indicate he was listening.
“How old is your sister?”
The battler looked at him closely, as if Mikoto’s fears wereplain upon his face. “Eleven.”
Young. But not too young.
Timur jostled him. “Planning to join the family?”
Mikoto couldn’t think what to say, so he simply shook hishead.
“She doesn’t know. My parents never told her.” Timur stillwatched him, amusement gaining strength in his expression. “You don’t knoweither, do you?”
At an utter loss, Mikoto shook his head again.
Timur chuckled. “My father told me that Mum’s been shreddingyour offers for years. By hand. With a ceremonial dagger. It’s become one ofher little Dichotomy Day traditions.”
Mikoto paled.
“Not to worry. It’s nothing too personal. My parents receivescads of offers. For all of us.” He smiled easily. “Once she’s done, we use thetatters to light a bonfire on the beach.”
“I did not know.” Mikoto wanted to defend himself somehow.“Glint must have sent them.”
“Yeah. Same herald every time. Papka gets to chatting.”Timur slung an arm around Mikoto’s shoulders. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen.” Older, but not too old. Not if putting offmarriage meant securing a beacon for the Reaver bloodline.
“I’ve already told you more than I should, but Fend likesyou. So do I. Here’s the deal.” He casually hooked him closer and lowered hisvoice. “Every Dichotomy Day, while the contracts burn, my parents remind usthat our duty to the In-between need not cost us our happiness. We can chooseany path, both for life and in love.”
Mikoto wished he had that same luxury.
“Papka asked me to tell you that he’s aware of the honoryour offer represents, but Lilya’s choices are her own.” Timur hesitated.“Probably best I leave out Mum’s message. She’s mostly upset with Glint,anyhow.”
Miserably, Mikoto repeated, “I did not know.”
“Clearly.” Timur’s arm stayed where it was. “So …areyou interested in my sister?”
He slowly shook his head. “There is someone else.”
“You’re contracted?”
“No.” Mikoto put it into the simplest of terms. “I am not.But she is.”
Sinder was in familiar territory. Most of his workinvolved listening in and extracting information. Observer. Eavesdropper.Informant. He loved to be in the middle of a muddle, taking in the drama as itunfolded, usually all unseen. Or at the very least, unnoticed. But not thisweek.
Captured by Spomenka.
Bandaged by a tribute.
Greeted by a headman.
Quizzed by a crosser.
Accosted by a tree.
Either he was a terrible spy or a brilliant one. In eithercase, Sinder knew he was a terrible patient. Juuyu liked to point it out everytime sickness or injury sent him creeping into his partner’s personal space.Sinder got clingy. Juuyu got fussy. To be fair, the phoenix never turned himaway. He was too restrained and too rigid, but he was totally reliable. Andsurprisingly missable.
