Page 104 of Fumiko and the Finicky Nestmate
Juuyu wasn’t sure if he could recall it because of his promise to Fumiko or because Bavol’s treatment was having some effect. Either way, the Bamboo Stave was safe. And that put him at ease.
“Don’t you need more light to read by?” Fumiko asked.
“There is enough.”
“Can’t you illuminate crystals?”
“I can.” Juuyu once more lowered the book. “Darkness is more conducive to sleep.”
“But I can’t see your expressions.”
With a low trill that was more amused than anything, Juuyu asked, “Why are you so resolute in avoiding those things you need most?”
Fumiko gravely said, “Some stories are more important than sleep.”
Juuyu raised the book to hide the smile that was threatening. “Shush, or the author’s words will never invoke their intended response.”
For a few minutes longer, he was able to continue his investigation of the book. If pressed, he would have to confess himself surprised. The phoenix character behaved as an avian should, and the dragon’s predicament was not only plausible, it was poignant.
Juuyu was quite sure the author was a Betweener. And given the unsettling parallels between his own situation and that of the main character, Juuyu grew increasingly certain that he must know the author. Or at the very least, they knew of him.
“Sing me to sleep?” Fumiko asked.
“I cannot sing and read. Choose one.”
“Then I guess you should read,” she sighed.
Interesting priorities.
He asked, “Would humming suffice?”
“That would be nice. Yes, please.”
When he was alone, Juuyu sometimes hummed under his breath. Not a proper song, just disjointed snatches. The habit drove Sinder crazy, which is why he usually curbed the impulse, but Fumiko seemed to take comfort from his vocalizations. Enough that she was soon asleep.
Able to focus once more, Juuyu reread two sections before pressing onward, intent on collecting clues. Allusions to lore. Turns of phrase. Setting details. He was still working up his profile—and the very short list of people who fit it—when Sinder clambered onto a nearby tree branch.
“You look comfortable.”
Juuyu supposed he was. “Try not to wake her.”
Sinder tutted sympathetically. “Good that someone reminded her that she needs more than sun and soil to live.”
It was an odd thing to say.
“She thinks like a tree.” Sinder gestured below. “The interns have a hard time getting her to eat and sleep. You’re a good influence.”
Juuyu hummed. Perhaps he should speak with Riindi again. Which reminded him, “Fumiko needs a phone. To connect with my grove. And others. Perhaps the orphan tree at Reaverson Farm?”
“Can do.”
On impulse, Juuyu held up the book. “Can you find out who wrote this?”
“Even easier.” Pointing to the cover, Sinder said, “It’s right there in print. Chastity Landis.”
“That is a penname.”
“You sure?” His partner hummed. “I suppose it does sound doggish.”
