by Forthright
Josheb offered Sasquatch another ravioli, but the dog turned up his nose. “More for you, sweetheart,” he said, passing it to Nessie instead.
Caleb suddenly remembered something of the night before. “I think Sasquatch is holding out for the star wine.”
“Big drinker, is he?”
Oh, yes. It was all coming back to him. “Star wine is one of his favorites.”
“And how would you know that little detail?”
Caleb stared at his too-cold toes and quietly admitted, “He told me so.”
Josheb hummed. And when Caleb stole a glance, his brother asked, “Just now?”
“Last night. I was a little drunk.”
Sasquatch cocked his head to one side, and he sniffed in the direction of the flask.
“I might have been very drunk,” Caleb offered lamely.
“No, I think you’re onto something. I mean … he’s smarter than your average dog—no offense Nessie, darling—and there’s more clans than bear. Hesper says those giant squirrel tracks I spotted were from some local boys.”
“There are others living out here?”
Josheb listed, “Squirrel, deer, pheasant—sound familiar?”
Caleb looked to Sasquatch and asked, “Is there a dog clan?”
Copper eyes held laughter as he offered a paw.
“Maybe he’s not allowed to say? It could be a secret,” suggested Caleb.
“I got Hesper to show me. She’s a shifter.” Josheb’s brows lifted. “That giant bear we saw? It was Andor.”
Caleb admitted, “I wasn’t sure.”
“Honestly, I think it’s great. Shifters are trendy.” Josheb picked up one of the camp cups and jiggled it toward the flask. “Great hook for an epic story, if we ever get around to telling it.”
With less ceremony than the wine probably deserved, Caleb tipped a little into his own cup, then filled Josheb’s to the brim. “I already had some. This is your share.”
“Not gonna argue, not gonna complain.” Josheb clinked their cups together and took a small sip, then a whole mouthful. His eyes slid shut as he gave the wine his full attention.
Meanwhile, Sasquatch sidled closer and snuffled hopefully at Caleb’s cup. Without really thinking about it, Caleb flicked his nose.
The dog’s rump hit the ground, and they stared at each other for several moments.
Clearing his throat, Caleb said, “Please tell me I didn’t just biff the King of Dogs.”
“Could be.” Josheb sounded supremely unconcerned. And duly impressed. “Kind of sweet, like dessert wine. And there’s some fizz. At least, it tingles against my tongue. Wish I could see it in a flute. Does it have a color? Hey, if there’s star in the name, does it shine?”
“Not sure.” Caleb peered into the enamel cup. “Guess this is lacking in presentation. Since when are you into wine?”
“Learned some stuff from a friend of a friend.” He tugged at his beard and smiled lopsidedly. “I usually just grab a beer, though.”
Caleb admitted, “I’m a little hooked on this stuff.”
“Wonder if Hesper’s honey mead is just as good?”
Sasquatch huffed.
Was he offering an opinion?
But then Hesper’s voice carried from close at hand. “Here you are! Oaken, they’re over here!”
“Tattle tale,” accused Josheb, who raised his cup. “Come to crash our party?”
She eyed their impromptu picnic without much enthusiasm. “You’re being summoned. And you’re in luck. Andor’s about to open a fresh cask of his finest. Shares for all.”
“What’s the occasion?” asked Josheb.
“Guests.” With a long look at Sasquatch, she added, “High-ranking guests.”
The dog paused long enough to lick Caleb’s cheek before sprinting away.
Josheb snickered. “Thirsty boy?”
Hesper hauled him to his feet and helped him balance while Oaken and Caleb collected their things.
Caleb ventured, “What kind of guests?”
“You’ll see for yourself in a minute.”
“Give us a hint!” Josheb had always been the persistent type. “What clan?”
“Clans. Two.” Hesper didn’t seem worried by the incursion. If anything, she seemed … impressed. “Care to guess?”
Josheb blurted, “Dog!”
Equally sure that he was right, Caleb answered, “Cat.”
Warming Welcome
Oaken and Hesper carried them right into the kitchen, where two chairs waited before the hearth, each with a large, foamy basin set before it. Steam carried a pleasant scent, but Caleb hesitated to plunge his cold feet into hot water.
Josheb dipped in a toe. “Are we in some kind of hot seat? Or is it spa day?”
“You want a mani-pedi?” Hesper asked lightly. “I’ll do it if you let me unbeard you.”
“Not a chance.” And with a roll of his eyes toward the other end of the room, he quietly asked, “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
Caleb, who was already sizing up the newcomer, could only nod.
A big guy with long, auburn hair stood chatting with Andor, who had a tall glass poised below the spout of one of the mid-sized wine casks. Stray thoughts flitted through Caleb’s mind. Like … it was a lot of wine for six people. And that Sasquatch was well-named, since he looked larger than life. His height rivaled Andor’s, and while his build was more lean, that didn’t diminish him a speck. Indeed, his presence dominated the room to such a degree, Andor came off modest and retiring by comparison.
Turning slightly, Sasquatch raised his glass.
His easy smile was the same Caleb remembered.
“You’re totally Sasquatch,” accused Josheb.
“And you’re not bothered?” His nostrils flared, and his smile widened. “Are you pleased to meet me, or simply pleased to be correct?”
Josheb laughed. “Guessing right hardly counts. The hints you dropped were bigger than Andor’s barrels. Why the subterfuge?”
“Curiosity, at first. And necessary caution.” Indicating Nessie, he added, “I needed to stick close, and you seemed the sort to be accepting of dogs. In truest form, I am somewhat less alarming.”
Hesper snorted. “In truest form, but not at truest size.”
Sasquatch’s copper eyes sparkled. “The past several days have been an exercise in restraint. But what else could I do until my good friend arrived?”
Caleb sheepishly glanced around. Not six people. One more made seven.
“I am here.” The new arrival quietly stepped into the center of attention. “Is the water too hot?”
Josheb dropped both feet in and asked, “Do you guys have names, or do I get to pick one for you, too?”
The new guy, who was dressed in gray, gestured gracefully to Sasquatch.
“My name is Harmonious Starmark, and I speak for the dog clans.”
“Speak for?” interrupted Josheb. “As in … their leader?”
“More of a representative.”
Turning to Caleb, Josheb gleefully accused, “You totally biffed the King of Dogs.”
Harmonious chuckled. “That’s hardly worth mentioning.”
Oaken conferred briefly with Hesper, who now held her own tall glass of star wine. She reported, “Harmonious is firstborn son and heir to the First of Dogs. Show a little respect.”
“No kidding?” Josheb’s smile turned sly. “So what’s the Crown Prince of Dogs doing way out here, begging food under the table.”
With a slightly pained glance in his companion’s direction, Harmonious gruffly answered, “I was … in-character. And I couldn’t very well proceed until Hisoka arrived. There’s a balance to these things.”
“Which means …?” prompted Josheb.
“Equal parts,” replied Harmonious. “Two of us, two of them, two of you.”
“The water.” The gray-clad male knelt before Caleb and dipped his fingers into the basin. Still in an undertone, he urged, “Do not let it go to waste.
”
Caleb slid his feet into water that was not too hot and not too cold. All at once, he felt like Goldilocks. “There are three bears,” he mumbled.
Head down, hands kneading, the newcomer proceeded to wash Caleb’s feet. “Word reached us that Andor and Oaken had captured two hikers. Hesper is not part of the complaint. Indeed, I am pleased to find her here. I can have you provided with a human translator as well.”
Josheb asked, “Why? Hesper’s been great.”
Harmonious dropped to a seat in front of Josheb and grabbed his ankle. “For balance, of course. You’ll be wanting a reaver’s perspective.”
“One from my cortege is on his way.” And raising eyes that were a startling shade of orange, he said, “My name is Hisoka Twineshaft, and I speak for the Amaranthine clans.”
“All of them?” asked Josheb.
“Yes.”
“But which one’s yours?” he pressed.
“Cat.”
Offering his fist for Caleb to bump, Josheb whispered, “Nailed it!”
Caleb had no idea how his brother could be so relaxed. Oaken and Hesper were standing back, watching in overt fascination. Everything about their body language made it clear that important guys like these didn’t normally wash the feet of humans.
“Why are you doing this?” Caleb managed weakly. “You don’t have to do this. I can take care of it.”
Josheb jumped in. “Is this some kind of ritual?”
Hisoka said, “Perhaps we should call it an apology.”
“For what?”
“Cold feet.” He sought Caleb’s gaze. “I understand it was one of your two grievances.”
Harmonious boasted, “I arranged for socks. And shoes.”
Oaken added more hot water to the basins, and the swirl of heat felt good. Caleb had never experienced anything like this, and he was more than a little embarrassed. Everything felt backwards. These people were important. He was the trespasser in their territory.
Suddenly, Josheb made a garbled sound. “That tickles!”
“Is that so?” Harmonious didn’t show a lick of repentance. “Was it here?”
Caleb looked on in increasing bewilderment as Josheb dissolved into giggles, then fought back with much sloshing of water and hairpulling.
“Oh for the love of …!” And reaching over, he flicked the nose of the Crown Prince of Dogs. Again.
Harmonious Starmark’s attention swung to him, and his grin widened, revealing an entirely daunting set of fangs. “I like you boys. If Andor wasn’t exerting prior claim, I’d gladly add you to the Starmark pack.”
Caleb spied Andor watching moodily from the corner.
“You can’t just go around claiming people willy-nilly … can you?” quizzed Josheb.
“Well, no.” Harmonious was mopping at the floor with the towels Hesper brought over. “It’s usually considered a gift.”
“Sort of an honorary member of the family?”
“Nooo.” Shaggy brows furrowed. “You would be pack. Nothing honorary about it.”
Caleb asked, “Can the gift be refused?”
Harmonious looked entirely baffled. “Why would anyone do that?”
Oaken and Hesper whisked away the basins. Warmed feet were further warmed by the friction of toweling. Then there were thick socks and fur-lined shoes with heavy soles, reminiscent of moccasins. Caleb’s feet were comfortable for the first time in weeks. “Thank you.”
When the two remained on the floor before the Dare brothers’ chairs, Caleb wondered if they were waiting for something along the lines of … apology accepted. Even though he still didn’t think he was owed one. This whole trip had been disorienting and frightening and awkward as hell, but they’d found a way past their differences. With a little help from a guiding star.
“Caleb Jonathan Dare.” Hisoka offered a card with both hands.
For a moment, Caleb thought it was a business card, but it turned out to be his driver’s license.
“Josheb Benjamin Dare.” Hisoka repeated the process with his brother.
Harmonious cleared his throat. “We have to be so careful. We checked into you a little, and we were surprised by what we learned.”
“Good surprised or bad surprised?” asked Josheb.
“Good,” Harmonious quickly assured. “Very good, given everything that’s culminating. I hardly know where to start, there’s so much to explain. Hisoka …?”
“Caleb. Josheb.” With a whisper of a smile to offset the gravity of the moment, Hisoka Twineshaft said, “We have a proposition for you both.”
At Home
“Does returning seem weird for you?” asked Caleb, staring up at his building.
“Every time.” Josheb stabbed the button for the crosswalk a few times, then shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.”
“I suppose I will. If I keep this place.”
“You’re thinking of moving?”
“Might have to, once everything goes down. For security reasons.” Caleb had committed the timetable to memory. “Besides, if it’s both of us, we’ll need more room.”
“You sure?”
“About our paparazzi potential? I’d love to be wrong.”
Josheb tugged at his beard. “About living together.”
“I’ll make it an official dare, if necessary.”
Opening the building’s front door with a doorman’s flourish, Josheb asked, “Better together?”
“Wherever we go,” agreed Caleb. And so one bloodhound and two men in fur-lined moccasins scuffed across the foyer to wait for the elevator.
After months away, they were back where they’d started. However, this part of Caleb’s life felt like a distant memory. He and Josheb had accepted the terms posed by Hisoka Twineshaft on behalf of the clans. To serve on a committee that was paving the way for the Amaranthine people to step out of hiding. To take an active role in informing the world about their not-so-new neighbors.
The elevator opened on the twenty-second floor.
Nessie tugged on her leash, aiming straight for their door.
Caleb had his key ready, but hesitated.
“Been a while, huh?” Josheb mimed insertion and a twist. “Give it a few days. It’ll feel normal again in no time.”
“It’s just … different.”
“Nah. Not really. You’re the one who’s changed.” And with a wink, his brother whispered, “Lots of changes ahead.”
Understatement.
Caleb opened the door, eased out of his shoes, and stepped inside. Everything was hushed and stale and dusty. He probably should have been worried about the mail and the state of his portfolio. He even felt a little guilty for not giving past priorities their former place.
He had a new job. One that involved film crews and interviews and documentation. One that put a permanent smile on Josheb’s face, since he’d be delivering the scoop of the century on a weekly basis. Because the Amaranthine clans were their myths and legends come to life.
“Den sweet den,” quipped Josheb. He unclipped Nessie’s leash, and she trotted into her former domain, nose to the rug. “I’ll crack a window.”
“Do me a favor?” Caleb pointed toward the loft. “There’s a skylight up there, above the bed. See if it opens?”
Josheb shucked out of his own slippers, offered a jaunty salute, and hopped to it. “Gonna sleep under the stars tonight?” he called from the utility closet.
“Not sure we can see them from here.”
“But you’re hoping to hear them.”
“Yeah.” Caleb could admit that much. “Yeah, we’ll listen for them again tonight.”
It was cold. March was too soon to be sleeping under an open skylight. But Caleb and Josheb unrolled a thick pad woven from fur—a parting gift from Oaken—and piled every blanket in the house on top. With Nessie sprawled between them, it was almost homey. And when Josheb grabbed Caleb’s wrist, it was even closer to normal.
But there was no pip-pip-pipping of figments, and no flicke
r of firelight. “I’m going to buy a candle tomorrow,” muttered Caleb.
“Cell phone, too. Hesper wants us both to text.” After a lengthy pause, Josheb asked, “Getting anything?”
“Not really.” Compared to the mountains, the stars were dim and distant.
But as soon as Josheb retreated into sleep, a trickle of music touched Caleb’s soul. As if the stars had been waiting for a private word.
They sang of all that had happened, and they sang of things to come. Of dogs and dragons and foxes. Of embassies and treaties and pacts. Of long-held promises and unfolding plans. And of seemingly insignificant moments with consequences that would culminate in surprising ways.
Dare Together
“This the place?” asked Josheb, pulling into an open space across the street.
The house was a century old, at least. One of those big, sprawling historical homes just a block off the main drag. The kind with a wrap-around porch and three colors of paint on its filigree trim.
Caleb had memorized the map, but the neighborhood was nothing like he’d expected. “It’s so … normal.”
“Well, sure. They’re shooting for normal.” Josheb hopped down and opened the back door to let Nessie out. “Hesper says they’re using Vale for a surname right now.”
“I remember.”
“Wouldn’t be so bad, moving someplace like this. Hesper would have our backs. Drive for an hour or two, and we’d be up a mountain. You’d be okay, yeah?”
Caleb did spend an embarrassing amount of attention to his current elevation. He hadn’t realized Josheb noticed. He simply nodded and peered around.
Hesper’s hometown wasn’t a big city by any stretch, but they weren’t far from a more major metropolis. Close enough for this to count as a suburb. Plenty of people probably commuted from here to there.
Every house on the block had deep front yards with towering trees. Most had several cars lining their driveways, but this had to be Hesper’s place. Bunches of yellow and gold helium balloons bobbed above the mailbox and along the porch railings, where two handmade banners boldly declared:
BETTER TOGETHER
