Page 79 of Mikoto and the Reaver Village
“Not … exactly. Well, maybe. With Dad.”
Kyrie wasn’t sure why his brother wasn’t sure.
“Mostly, I like to be on the receiving end of tending.Michael usually sets me up, but Mom’s the absolute best.” Ginkgo gave his handa squeeze. “You getting curious about this stuff?”
He was curious about most stuff. But Kyrie understood theunderlying question. “Not enough to get tangled.”
“When you are, go to Michael.”
“I will.” And because Ginkgo would be honest, he asked, “WillI be in the way today?”
“Hardly. Or did you forget you’re the whole reason fortoday.”
Kyrie ventured, “Sinder is hurt. This is for his healing?”
“The outing will do him good. Being in truest form will dohim good,” Ginkgo allowed. “But Timur didn’t redecorate Zisa’s house just so wecould get out of there. He probably would have kept his patient there if hecould’ve. But Damsel insisted.”
“For me?”
“For sure. And maybe for himself. You might be the onlyother dragon on the continent.” Ginkgo’s gaze tracked to Timur, who’d insistedthat Sinder ride Fend. And further insisted on riding with him, to prevent himfrom sliding off the sleek cat. “Dragons are really social. Loners are rare,and Sinderisn’ta loner. He’s had it rough.”
“We are here. He has us.”
“We’ll remind him of that.” Ginkgo’s smirk promisedmischief. “Juuyu insisted.”
On the mossy bank of a pretty little lake, Sinder sankto his knees before Kyrie and said, “Little cousin. I’m like you, and you’relike me. Not the same, but alike. And I like that.”
“Me, too,” admitted Kyrie.
“Let’s start simple. I’ll revert, and you may make a fullinspection.” Sinder hesitated. “Will you be able to hear my voice in truestform?”
“I do not know.” Kyrie looked to Ginkgo.
The half-fox shrugged. “I can sometimes hear Dad, but onlyif we’re touching and he’s trying. Not sure if blood ties are part of that orif clan ties are enough.”
Kyrie really wished Ginkgo was more interested in the dualityof his existence, but introspection had never been his strong point. Kyrie’s mostprobing questions had never occurred to his big brother, who didn’t evenhavea philosophy of life. Just a motto.You’re alive, so live.
Some of their crossers really needed to hear that.
Like Ginkgo was giving them permission to exist.
“Guess we’re here to find out.” Sinder shrugged. “If not, nobig deal. Save up your questions for after.”
“I will,” promised Kyrie.
“Two steps back,” urged Sinder.
He sprang away and waited breathlessly.
With a solemn wink, Sinder transformed.
Even though he knew what to expect, Kyrie’s heart squeezedas Sinder seemed to shatter like light through a prism, scattering beforegathering into a new shape. Scales rippled outward, and curving claws flexedagainst soft soil.
Sinder’s scales were like opal—translucent, even luminous,and sparked by colors that shifted in the gaining sun. Two white horns spiraledabove a pale mane threaded with green. Familiar eyes glinted, clear andcalculating, as sharp as any fox’s.
Kyrie suddenly understood something about himself. He wasdrawn to Sinder’s intelligence even more than his beauty. Here was anotherperson—like Dad—who would speak the truth, even if it wasn’t easy.
Needing to touch, knowing it was all right, Kyrie let hisfingertips glide over silken scales. While the overall impression was certainlygreen, the vivid colors that marked Sinder’s speaking form were only apparenton close inspection. Hidden facets. Ribbons under ice. Flowers in the snow.
