Page 44 of Mikoto and the Reaver Village
He lengthened his strides.
She stood a little away from those mingling beside the bus, smilingskyward. A breeze caught her long, black hair and flipped the airy fabric ofher skirt. Vastly different from standard reaver attire, but maybe they did thingsdifferently on whatever island Priska had chosen for her. It was pretty.
As he neared, she laughed lightly and turned his way, smilingas she tucked flyaway hair behind her ear. Lupe Navarro wasn’t very tall; he’dsurpassed her height when he was only eleven. She was all confident sweetnessand crooked smiles. Bold with colors. Deft with crystals. Crazy about dancing.
Lupe was a reach. Reavers of their order acted almost like atuned crystal, able to hone in on a location, so long as they had something orsomeone to reach for. They were prized as navigators, but it was said that reachesof the highest order could find their way into the thoughts of an Amaranthinewith whom they shared close ties. Like telepathy. Or something.
“You’re here,” Lupe said.
Mikoto thought she sounded glad of it. “You are back.”
She dimpled and accused, “You’ve changed.”
Not fast enough. Wishing he could think of something cleverto say, he mumbled, “You have not.”
Lupe’s brows arched over laughing eyes. “You’re kidding.”
“He is blind,” cut in a sharper voice. Priska Runefarer casuallybalanced a trunk on one shoulder. Her pale blue hair was its usual mess ofchoppy waves, and her lip curled to reveal a dainty fang.
Mikoto gestured politely. “Wardenclave welcomes you.”
Priska frowned, but her tone moderated. “You do your fatherproud.”
“We’re sorry for your loss.” Lupe’s eyes shimmered withsympathy. “Is there anything we can do?”
He didn’t want this. Not even from her. Pasting on a smile,he slid into his role as headman. It was easier this way. “Hana will be so gladfor your company. You should come by the house later. Once you are settled.”
Empty words.
Expected courtesies.
“Do you remember the way?” he asked.
Priska snorted. “I’ve been trawling these waters for morecenturies than you have years.” With a scowl, she took Lupe’s arm and guidedher away toward the cabins set aside for instructors and recruiters.
Mikoto let them go with nothing more than an awkward wave.
He knew how to fall and how to fight, but there had been nofending off the blow Lupe delivered. Turning on his heel, he stumbled off thepath and into the woods, desperate to be alone before coming to terms with threethings he hadn’t expected.
Despite Priska’s snide remark, Mikotowasn’tblind.
He could see that Lupe was abundantly happy. He knew the significanceof the ornamental sigil decorating her brow. And he understood the meaning ofthe curves Lupe’s dress didn’t quite hide. She was going to be a mother.
EIGHTEEN
Eastern Bride
Sinder limped along the path to his new quarters.Zisa’s guest house was small by any standard, but it wasn’t a comfortless, woods-damptent. And it was safe. Right now, Sinder desperately needed that sense ofsecurity.
Even with Michaelson absent from their ranks, the recruitswere getting on nicely, and Sinder was hiding fresh bruises. He’d barely managedto convince Torloo he could make it back on his own. It wasn’t that far. It wasn’tthat bad. It wasn’t going to get any easier.
All Sinder wanted was a soft bed. And he wouldn’t refuse adosing once Timur finished up his First Day duties with the campers. Sinderstumbled and swore, quickly straightening when he realized that Fend wassprawled across Zisa’s doorstep. Very much alert.
“I’m fine,” Sinder muttered.
Fend’s lids lowered a fraction. So skeptical.
With a hushing motion, he eased around the big feline. “Betweenyou and me, this is nothing compared to what’s ahead. So leave it.”
