Page 43 of Mikoto and the Reaver Village
“This is between us.”
And again, Salali demanded, “Don’t stop.”
Bumping his lips against his new friend’s temple, Tenmaconfessed, “I’m glad I stumbled into your trap, Salali Fullstash.”
“Isthatwhat this is?” inquired a new voice, allintrigued innocence. “Entrapment. But which one of you is trapping the other?And may I join?”
SEVENTEEN
Mathematically Impossible
With the confusion of unloading happening all along thecircle, Noble was safer back in Mikoto’s pocket. He kept a hand on the pup,fondling one perked ear as he strolled along the edge of activity.
Wardenclave’s citizens mingled with the crowd, greeting returneesand guiding newcomers. Mikoto’s sisters barely acknowledged him, their fleetingglances holding little more than exasperation. Reprimanding him for arrivinglate. Reminding him that his pain was theirs, and then some. Hadn’t they knownFather better, loved him longer?
Shame seeped into the set of his shoulders.
A firm grip at Mikoto’s elbow halted his progress, and heraised his gaze. Resplendence Starmark searched his face, firmed her gripslightly, and murmured, “Well met.”
As she moved off, Mikoto was jostled on his other side by ReenaDuntuffet, who cuffed his shoulder and winked before hurrying forward to heft ayoung girl’s travel cases.
His people. His friends.
Hannick Alpenglow patted his cheek in passing. “Someone’strying to get your attention.”
Like the sudden pivot that can throw an opponent offbalance, Mikoto’s perspective shifted off himself. Familiar faces dominated thecrowd. Many turned his way with grins, waves, and greetings. Chin bobs and handsigns from other battlers. Friendly remarks upon his increasing height. Teasingremarks about his tiny companion.
Mikoto found he was glad to see them back.
He began offering the same kinds of assurances he’dreceived. Touching an elbow. Clapping a shoulder. He spoke the names of thosehe knew and offered his name to new kids. As he patiently worked his way along,he felt fresh stirrings of certainty.
She was here.
Even though he couldn’t explain it—not that he’d evertry—Mikoto always knew when Lupe was near. The pull that made his heart leap.The scent of summer that left him giddy. The way she always knew when to turn,where to look. Like she was as aware of him as he was of her.
But it was really quite hard to impress a girl who sees youas a little brother.
Mikoto worked hard, trained hard, tried hard. Wanting her tonotice the man he was becoming. Catching up with something other than years.
Four years was an epoch for young reavers.
On her last year at camp, instead of flying home at summer’send, Lupe had journeyed to a port city with Priska, boarded a ship, and sailed tosome far-off island where a new husband waited. She’d been eighteen, going onnineteen. He’d been fourteen and tongue-tied and inconsolable.
His only tiny sliver of hope was that they weren’t a goodmatch. Maybe Lupe would do her duty to the In-between and leave her islandhusband behind, making a second marriage possible.
Mikoto had done the math a thousand times over. Enough tounderstand the mathematical impossibility of grasping at that particular straw.To give Lupe time to fulfill her progeny quota, he’d have to figure out a wayto stay single until he was twenty-seven. At least.
Glint might accept the plan. Well, maybe. If Mikoto couldget Radiance to back him.
But deep down, Mikoto knew his plan was doomed. Lupe was sowarm and accepting. She’d give her contract husband every chance to win herheart. And love him back with all of hers. That’s just the kind of person she’dalways been.
Mikoto still wanted to find a way of telling her how he felt,even though it would probably come to nothing. If she was safe and happywithout him, he’d let Glint choose a bride with a good bloodline and secureWardenclave’s future.
It dawned on him then that in all his years of clinging toan impossible wish, he’d never once considered leaving Wardenclave. Not evenfor Lupe. Did that mean he didn’t love her enough? Maybe. And maybe that didn’tmatter anymore. The decision was out of his hands. It always had been.
But if Lupe was even the littlest bit unhappy, he’d give heran alternative.
A whisper of wind flirted around his ankles and tugged athis hair, carrying a sense of summer’s sweetness, drawing his attention to thesecond-to-last bus in the long line-up. It was always like this. The knowingpart. He could always find her. As if they’d forged a connection eight yearsago, and they shared it still.
