Page 53 of Mikoto and the Reaver Village
Sinder couldn’t shake the idea that the tree knew exactlywhat was going on. Easing away so he could watch everyone’s reactions, hefocused his senses, trying to catch the import of Tenma’s mistake.
“Oooh,” breathed Tenma. He looked between Waaseyaa and Zisa,then beamed at Mikoto. “You’re tree-kin?”
Zisa tittered.
“No?” Mikoto scooped up his puppy like he wanted to hidebehind it. “Just a reaver.”
Ginkgo held up a hand. “Maybe we should start over.”
As they began a rehearsal of bland and useless facts, Sinderslipped into the only other room in Zisa’s house. While some snide part of hispersonality was amused because trees shouldn’t need toilets, Sinder appreciatedthe spacious shower stall, which had surely been built on a scale toaccommodate the First of Dogs.
Sinder let the drumming of hot water on tiles drown out mostof the inanity in the other room and eased carefully out of his clothes. Steppingunder the steady flow, he wondered if he had enough range of motion to getproperly clean.
He belatedly began unraveling his braid, but he could onlylift one arm high enough.
Swearing under his breath, he turned and nearly leapt to theceiling. Zisa was perched on the sink, watching him.
“You havenoconcept of privacy!” he grumbled.
“I do. Brother has explained it to me many times.”
“So, what? You don’t believe in privacy?”
“I do not see the necessity.” Zisa smiled sweetly. “You didnot ward this room against me.”
It hadn’t even occurred to Sinder.
“May I help with your hair? Brother lets me. His is evenlonger than yours.”
Relief washed over Sinder, and he mumbled, “That’s verygenerous of you.”
Zisa hopped down and stood just beyond the streaming water. Sinderturned and tilted his head so the tree could untangle his increasingly soddenhair. “Your clothes are getting wet.”
“Should I disrobe?” Zisa asked hopefully.
“Maybe not.”
Like a well-trained bath attendant in a dragon lord’s harem,the tree handled him courteously. Blunt nails scraped circles against hisscalp. Then a hand took Sinder’s chin, guiding the angle of his head, the otherlifting sections of hair to rinse away the suds.
Sinder basked in the heat and in the attention. So much, hewas sorry when Zisa turned off the tap.
Still in silence, which was its own kind of privacy, Zisa broughtout an enormous stack of towels and proved he was adept at toweling withouttangling. Sinder bowed his head and let the tree do as he pleased.
Zisa had begun braiding before he spoke again. “You havemore injuries today.”
“You keep track?”
“Are you being bullied? Children are sometimes bullied.”
What a thing to ask. “I’m hardly a child.”
“No?” Zisa sounded amused.
Sinder lifted his head. “Do I look like a child to you?”
“How many centuries do you have?”
Fudging a little, Sinder held up three fingers.
