Page 93 of Fumiko and the Finicky Nestmate
“Hush, little brother. You have done well.”
In the dream, Argent held Akira, letting him sniffle and shudder on the verge of tears, but when he opened his eyes, it was Hallow’s shirt with a damp patch.
“All right, there?” the bat crosser asked softly.
Akira shook his head. Then because he knew Hallow wouldn’t remember a word and Zuzu couldn’t overhear him in this well-warded haven, Akira tried out the words he’d eventually have to say to Suuzu. “My parents might be alive. And I think my dad’s a tree.”
THIRTY-ONE
Intervention
Juuyu was on his third circuit of the building when Mirrim signaled to him from a stairwell. He whisked to her side, silent and attentive, but her report was more of a command. “Magda needs you in the conference room.”
She escorted him there.
That should have been his first clue. Normally, Mirrim would have finished his rounds for him so there were no gaps in their perimeter. But the fleeting thought was fuzzy at the edges. And it was hard to remember why that should worry him.
Mirrim opened the door and gestured for him to precede her.
That’s when he registered a strange pressure and balked on the threshold.
“Excuse me,” she said, planting a hand between his shoulder blades and shoving.
Magda was waiting on the other side of a new barrier. Catching his wrist and elbow, she hauled backward, saying, “Thank you for your trust!”
Juuyu stumbled forward, passing through a shimmering curtain that buzzed and snapped with enough power to have ended him, if that had been the intent. Hissing, he tore free and leapt high, putting his back to one corner of the ceiling as he triggered defensive sigils and drew a blade.
“Oh, very nice!” Magda gave him two thumbs up. “You can stand down, though. We’re not attacking-attacking.”
“Not that we wouldn’t enjoy the challenge.” Mirrim had empty hands upraised. “Within the bounds of the games, of course.”
“That would be fun.” Magda’s shields wheeled slowly around her, and her stance remained neutral. “I love a bit of limit-testing.”
Without taking her eyes from Juuyu’s, Mirrim crisply asked, “Did it work?”
Bringing Juuyu’s attention to the least threatening—and most stunning—soul in the room. “What are you doing here, Reaver Foster?”
“At the moment, I’m testing the efficacy of a variation on my flea flicker barrier.” With a bright smile, he added, “Just call me Jiminy. Everyone does. Oh, and this next bit might sting a little.”
Juuyu’s eyes widened as the fourth strongest ward in the world swirled a finger through the sigil he’d been finessing. A breeze seemed to blow straight through Juuyu, chiming faintly with the crystals in Jiminy’s hand.
“Any pain?” he asked solicitously.
Rolling his shoulders and sheathing his blade, Juuyu said, “More of a tingle.”
“That’s promising.” Shifting into a posture that subtly asserted command, Jiminy said, “Come here, friend. Tuning time.”
Juuyu dropped to the floor.
Mirrim maintained her passive stance, but Magda swaggered to Jiminy’s side. “Well, son-in-law? Did it work?”
“That’s really more of a question for Juuyu.” Jiminy exuded a confidence that was confusing. “How are you feeling?”
Juuyu could only repeat, “What are you doing here?”
“Argent asked nicely. And I begged for the chance.” Jiminy’s eyes sparkled, and his voice dropped conspiratorially. “One of the Four Gentlemen is upstairs. How could I not come?”
Juuyu supposed that would be a draw. Especially for a ward with another of the Junzi in his care. But he was still confused by this sudden turn of events.
