Page 43 of Fumiko and the Finicky Nestmate
Still, nobody knew the thief’s identity.
But their motive had shifted into focus.
The Junzi were ancient dragon-slaying weapons that reavers had nicknamed the Four Gentlemen. Among the dragon clans, they were called the Four Storms. Most believed them to be little more than fable fodder. The stuff of scary stories whispered to younglings in the heights and harems.
Priceless. Dangerous.
Hidden. Found.
Was the Gentleman Bandit looking for a way to lash out against the dragon clans? Or had the Rogue—and the accomplice Argent now believed he’d acquired—acted to remove a potent threat from reavers’ hands. Either way, the Amaranthine Council had acted.
The Plum Cascade was lost without recourse.
The Orchid Saddle had been removed to a secure location.
The Chrysanthemum Blaze, believed secure, had been taken.
What of the Bamboo Stave?
Juuyu dropped to the floor beside the display case and surveyed the room, hands still weaving sigils to search, to stagger, to stun.
No barrier had swayed. No alarm had tripped.
All was still. And apparently safe.
Juuyu turned his gaze upon the Bamboo Stave, which had been arranged upon folds of black velvet. Directed lighting sparkled across a slender shaft of green crystal. There were metal joins, enforcing and embellishing, and each segment was bored and etched and tuned to the whole. A masterpiece.
At first glance, few would recognize this as a weapon. Indeed, they might question the name, for this stave wasn’t a blade. The term was related to the staff used for musical notation, for this stave was a wind instrument. A flute longer than Juuyu’s arm. And according to the old tales, capable of turning the tides of war with a tune.
Nothing.
Nothing creditable. Yet Juuyu was as sure as Mirrim and Magda that someone was teasing at their security measures, testing limits.
Magda was grim. “I’ll be resetting my array. Let me know if you guys think of any ways to finesse it.”
“After you eat,” directed Colt. “Healer’s orders.”
She looked ready to argue, but Mirrim touched her arm. “I’ll buy you a sandwich.”
To Juuyu’s mystification, Magda burst out laughing. Mirrim’s expression softened, and the two women strode purposefully toward the front of the building. He offered a soft chirrup of puzzlement.
“It doesn’t have to make sense.” Colt beamed after them. “I’m sure it was just an inside joke. Couples have them.”
Juuyu supposed the horse clansman would know.
Jostling him with an elbow, Colt said, “So do families.”
“Suuzu and I do not joke.”
His teammate chuckled. “I’m sure you’re both far too dignified to horse around, but it’s still the same. It’s about knowing how to coax someone into a better frame of mind, sometimes just by reminding them that you’re there.”
Juuyu’s heart panged, and he averted his face. “I will do another circuit of the gallery.”
Colt hooked a finger under his chin and lifted. “Does my past really bother you that much?”
“I apologize.”
“I’m not after an apology.” Glancing around, Colt urged Juuyu into a quieter corner of the courtyard. “I want to understand. Do we … have something in common?”
