Page 141 of Mikoto and the Reaver Village
The human children looked to Hannick and the mares first,but slowly, they each brought out necklaces. Some displayed slim capsules.Others looked more like lockets. Dad had told him about this. Kids born with agolden seed in their hand. Just like in the stories.
“And … since this garden’s jam-packed, you have to gosomeplace else to plant your seeds and start a new grove.” Ginkgo’s heart wentout to them. “Is going all together an option?”
Hannick said, “If an existing grove needs a specific variety,one or two might be sent. But your enclave is starting anew.”
“So it’s not crazy to hope?”
The teenage girl, the one who looked to be oldest, asked,“Is there room?”
“Plenty.” Ginkgo wanted to help them. “Why don’t you writeup some letters of introduction for my Dad. Tell him why you want to staytogether.”
The filly on baby-cuddling duty dared to repeat, “What aboutus?”
“Guess that’s up to your Stallion. We have a smallherd—including a few distant relatives—at Stately House. Could be like boardingschool. Could be apprenticing. Maybe?”
“Perhaps,” said Hannick.
Looking to Mare Anella, Ginkgo suggested, “Address theletters to Lord Argent Mettlebright of Stately House.”
That stirred more than a few whispers.
“And maybe get started on language lessons. Any chancesomeone around here can teach Japanese?”
This time the response was clearer. Over and over, theyrepeated one name—Sora. Sora. Lady Sora.
Salali jostled him with an elbow and rolled his eyes.“Mikoto’s mother came to us from Japan. Seems to me, you and yours might beinterested.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ginkgo’s stomach did a little anticipatory flip.“Why’s that?”
“Could be a distant relation.” Salali quietly added, “Beforetaking the Reaver name, Sora was a Hajime.”
Kyrie searched the star’s face, struggling against theurge to hide his own. He rivaled the dawn, and his gaze seemed to slide rightinto the secret places of Kyrie’s heart … as easily as his voice slipped intoKyrie’s mind.
“Are you certain you are not an angel?” he asked.
The shining person smiled.“I am sure that I am notcarrying a message.”
Oh, tricky. The literal meaning of angel was “messenger.”Was he hiding a truth or revealing one? Perhaps angels were members of the skyclans with deliveries to make. Starry heralds.
Kyrie refined his question. “Are you an Impression?”
“That is how my people are understood.”The hand thatpartially supported Kyrie tugged.“Come, Kyrie. You must set your seal uponme, or I will overwhelm you.”
“Seal?” He swayed with the treetop, nearly colliding withthe star.
“A sigil.”The star caught him close, and they wereflying.“A ward. Lest you become drunk upon my light.”
Did stars have sway? Concentrating on his sigilcraft wasmore difficult than usual, so maybe it was true. Kyrie managed the lines of abasic seal and nudged it into place over the star’s heart. There was animmediate shift. Almost like a good sneeze after breathing in too much pollen.
“Are you the one I heard singing before?”
“Just now? Yes.”
“No. When we first arrived. Almost two weeks ago.”
The star arranged himself as before, sitting amidst flutteringleaves, only this time with Kyrie across his lap.“I am newly arrived. Youprobably heard Wardenclave’s star.”
“Whose star are you?”
