Page 11 of Fumiko and the Finicky Nestmate
“When?” Juuyu demanded.
Mirrim drummed her fingers on the hilt of one of the blades at her belt. “Yesterday.”
FOUR
They Usually Send Humans
Fumiko pushed, and Zuzu pulled Akira, who didn’t really need persuading. Only a direction.
They didn’t often receive guests, despite their location on a prime sliver of beachfront property. Fumiko had forgotten how much fun it was, drawing back the curtain so blinded eyes could see.
“Whoa! This is … whoa!” Akira folded his hands behind his head and laughed toward the treetop. “Zuzu, that’s you! Right?”
“It is! Do you think I’m pretty?”
“Totally beautiful,” he warmly assured.
Fumiko liked the ease with which he bestowed compliments. She asked, “You knew?”
“Not at first. I probably should have figured it out sooner.” Looking back the way they’d come, Akira added, “Juuyu didn’t say anything, but he’s careful like that.”
That one. Fumiko had thought he was human until he’d touched her. Betraying the truth of his existence. Bestowing words like a blessing. “He’s Amaranthine.”
“Avian,” revealed Zuzu. “But I don’t know which kind.”
“He’ll definitely share his name properly. Juuyu has good manners.” Akira cobbled together his sentences slowly, sometimes mixing in Japanese words before translating to English. “He’s from a grove, and I’ve been there. Those trees are like you.”
“A grove,” Zuzu breathed wistfully. “Is it far?”
“Across the ocean.” He looked toward the water. “Not sure where, though. The whole island’s hidden. Like you.”
“It’s safer that way,” murmured Fumiko.
Akira eagerly explained, “So I’ve met tree-kin before, but the whole time, I thought they were some kind of islander clan who wore flowers in their hair. And that all foreigners were touchy-feely. I didn’t catch on at all. But I was just a kid, and everything was new then. Right after the Emergence.”
Zuzu tapped his nose. “You are still young.”
“Compared to Amaranthine, sure,” he agreed amiably. “Some of the kids I hang out with are decades older than me. But they’re still growing, and what they need changes over time. That’s the same for anyone. Even trees, yeah?”
“What I need is always the same.” Zuzu pouted. “But nobody gives it.”
Akira looked to Fumiko, who couldn’t help laughing. “She wants pollen. They restrict it with barriers to prevent accidental fertilization.”
Fumiko was in much the same circumstance, but for different reasons.
“Would that be so bad?” asked Akira.
“Portia could explain it better. Something about cross-pollination … and population explosion.”
“Wish I could visit that grove,” Zuzu said wistfully.
“Guess that’s not an option. But we can visit you. See? There’s the guys!” But he hauled up short and gawked anew. “You live in a lighthouse?”
While Akira and Zuzu paused to admire the tower, Fumiko strolled on, hoping for a glimpse of the aforementioned dragon. Beyond the tree and the lighthouse, a thick sea wall forestalled further erosion. Steps led down to a long breakwater, and on the dock at its end, a boat bobbed.
More of their guests were in the process of unloading plain black cases of various sizes. One of the men caught sight of her and turned from the task, a smile on his face. He strolled closer, already presenting his palms. “Hello, there. I’m Ricker Thunderhoof, but everyone calls me Colt.”
“Fumiko.” His hands were so large. “You’re the healer?”
