Tamiko and the Two Janitors (Amaranthine Saga Book 3)

by Forthright

  He was getting frustrated. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you have as many reasons to be proud as you have reasons to worry. But you can keep everything you care about if we’re careful.” Grandad squared his shoulders. “Let’s get in there. I’m the only one who understands what we have to lose and what we have for leverage.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Protect What’s Precious

  Tami hung back, holding onto Biddie as if she were the only sure thing left in the world. Which shouldn’t be possible, since the girl was so far outside her realm of experience. But they’d become tangled together somehow, and Tami wanted nothing more than to keep her close and keep her safe.

  “I want wards,” said Grandad.

  “You shall have them,” said Jiminy, touching the map. “But a property this size can’t be warded in one go. I’ll need a little time. And a little help.”

  “What sort?”

  “Woodacre ring any bells?”

  Grandad nodded slowly. “Nice folks. Nearby?”

  “Near enough.” Jiminy circled the oak glen with a finger. “Here first. Pushing outward once I have more anchors.”

  Tami knew about wards. On Ash’s recommendation, she’d requested them for the school. Reavers from the Office of Ingress were scheduled for Landmark’s initial installation.

  All of the sudden, she realized that Joe was standing alone in the far corner. Why was he there when she was here?

  “Joe,” she murmured.

  Biddie turned her head. “Joey-boy.”

  Tami crossed to him, and his arm eased around her. She leaned into his side and searched his face. Without words, she asked him what was wrong.

  He shook his head and tightened his hold.

  Their grandfather thumped the table. “How much authority do you have?”

  “I’m not sure.” Jiminy spread his hands wide. “Some, I think. I have friends with friends.”

  “Drop a name or two,” challenged Grandad.

  “Mettlebright. Elderbough.”

  Tami was stunned. Two of the Five?

  But her grandfather’s expression was bland as butter. “A bit far afield to be much use here.”

  Jiminy looked away, then looked back. “I was raised by wolves.”

  Several emotions flickered across Grandad’s face. “There’s a pack that close?”

  “I really couldn’t say.”

  “And normally, I wouldn’t press.” Leaning forward on his fists, the old man asked, “Would your leader consider sending us an allotment? They’d be welcome—Kith or Kindred. Safe behind your wards.”

  The young reaver’s calm gave nothing away. “To what end?”

  “I know what we have, and I know what she’s worth.” Grandad drew himself up. “I propose an alliance between the Amaranthine and the Reaverson family. Red Gate Farm should become an enclave.”

  The last place Joe wanted to be was alone with the reaver, but it made the most sense for him to serve as Jiminy’s guide. Joe knew the orchard and its boundaries better than anyone. He eyed the reaver’s rolling case and offered, “I could bring the small tractor.”

  “No, thank you. I’m wary of the vibrations, and it’s really best if I walk the boundaries before I set the barriers.”

  Joe asked, “Isn’t it heavy?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” Jiminy cheerfully assured. “Do you remember where you found the child?”

  Did this guy think he was stupid? Pointing, Joe said, “Her tree’s this way.”

  “Lead on!”

  They walked in silence. Or as close to silence as anyone could walk while dragging their luggage through gravel. Joe pivoted and picked up the case. “Let me.”

  “Oh, but ….”

  “I thought you were worried about vibrations.”

  Jiminy yielded with a small laugh. “I’m not used to heavy lifting. Most days, I work as a barista.”

  “But you’re a reaver.”

  “I’m a reaver with a day job.”

  Joe said, “You look like a college student.”

  “Pretty much. If I were enrolled in a standard university, I’d be prepping a thesis to earn my degree.” Jiminy brushed absentmindedly at his hair. “I have a mentor who lives overseas, so a lot of my classes are online.”

  Sifting through the wealth of questions he’d never been able to ask Grandad, Joe ventured, “Is there such a thing as a song circle?”

  “Yes. It’s the name of an Amaranthine festival, a gathering of clans that takes place once a decade.” There was a bounce to his step now. “Food. Music. Dancing. Stories. All sorts of solemn traditions and ceremonies and proclamations. They can last for days, even weeks.”

  He wasn’t holding back. Then again, all of this might be public knowledge.

  Joe asked, “Do you think my grandfather ever went?”

  Jiminy hummed. “The big festivals are only for the clans, but if he was enclave-bred, he’d know about them. Most enclaves have a circle for official gatherings. Same idea, but on a much smaller scale.”

  “We have one, I think.”

  “Yes, I think you do, too.” Jiminy asked, “Does it have some kind of boundary? Like a wall or a hedge? I couldn’t tell from the map.”

  Could trees be considered a hedge? Joe was saved from answering, because the golden crown of Biddie’s tree came into view.

  “Oaks!” Jiminy quickened his pace. “Do you know who planted them?”

  “Grandad.”

  “Your grandfather couldn’t have chosen better.” He touched the rough bark and beamed with approval. “This will be attractive to many clans.”

  “You’re going to bring wolves here?”

  “Only if we’re welcome.”

  Joe trailed after Jiminy, who made a full circuit of the oak glen before approaching Biddie’s tree. One more question really needed to be asked. “Is my sister a reaver?”

  “She must be, to have attracted an imp’s interest. Your whole family will need to be assessed.”

  “Isn’t that why you guys sent Melissa?”

  “Hold on.” Jiminy turned to him, his face gone serious. “Assessment is always handled by an Amaranthine. And while I don’t know any of the details, I’m quite sure that Melissa considers you kin.”

  Joe jammed his hands deeper into his pockets, feeling chastised. But he didn’t like all the mysterious half-truths and hinting. He wanted to know something again, and to know it for sure.

  “If Tami is a reaver, will they take her away?”

  “Even if your sister has a soul to out-dazzle the stars, there’s no chance of that.” Jiminy patted his shoulder. “From what I recall of tree lore, your sister and her twin cannot be apart for long. In fact, most build a home within easy reach, directly under the canopy if possible. I don’t doubt that Biddie will be happiest if a little cabin or cottage wa– ”

  “Wait! Twin?”

  “In a manner of speaking.” Jiminy paused in the process of pacing off the base of the tree. “From what your grandfather shared, Biddie’s true twin was your grandfather’s sister, who died young. The sibling bond has passed to Tami, who’s become tree-kin in Lisbet Reaverson’s place. What I’d like to know is how a family with even the most tenuous of ties to an ancient grove managed to vow out. I can’t emphasize enough the secrecy surrounding ….”

  But Joe wasn’t listening anymore.

  If Tami was Biddie’s twin now, what did that make him?

  Melissa came clean. Although she apologized for neglecting to mention her true status as a Betweener, she tried to emphasize their familial connection and its attendant concerns. She even sketched a little family tree to show how closely they were related.

  “The Elderbough Initiative?” Tami asked. “As in Spokesperson Adoona-soh Elderbough?”

  “Yes, although it was proposed by her son Naroo-soh.” Melissa searched their faces. “Wolves are protective of their packmates, so it made sense to him that reavers look to their own. In America, th
is has been the best way to locate—and protect—unregistered reavers.”

  Uncle George’s gaze was too keen by far. “Protect them from what?”

  “I … really couldn’t say.”

  Uncle Abel indicated Biddie. “Did you know this would happen?”

  “No!” Melissa shot a pleading look in Tami’s direction. “It’s been a complete surprise. A good one, but really kind of crazy. People like Biddie are sort of like fairy tales. I didn’t even realize Amaranthine trees were real, but I’ll do everything I can to protect you until better help arrives.”

  Tami laughed a little. “I’m glad I’m not the only one out of my depth here.”

  Melissa smiled gratefully. “I’d feel better if I could check the perimeter again, and I’ll compare notes with Reaver Foster. Tami, I think you should return Biddie to her tree. That way, she’s inside Jiminy’s wards. Everyone else can go on with business as usual.” Running through a mental checklist, she added, “Don’t tell anyone about anything—the tree, the child, the wards, the wolves, and the fact that some of you may be unregistered reavers.”

  Everyone was nodding. And then Tami gave a strange, strangled little moan of dismay.

  “What?” Melissa asked.

  “Her tree.” Color drained from Tami’s face. “I posted scans of the leaves to an online forum.”

  NINETEEN

  Better Together

  Over the course of the day, Tamiko’s harrowing dread faded into qualms that she did her best to rationalize away. It was no use worrying. She’d used the school’s computer. She hadn’t posted any personal information. All she had to do was wait for afterhours, drive down to work, log into that dratted forum, and erase her post, her scans, and her account.

  Meanwhile, clouds rolled in and a steady drizzle kept all but the hardiest customers from visiting Red Gate Farm. Tami spent most of the day huddled under an umbrella among the roots of Biddie’s tree, chatting with the girl and watching Joe help Jiminy arrange and rearrange stones around the rim of the hollow.

  Jiminy seemed cheerful enough. Joe was distracted. And each time Melissa passed through the oak glen on her patrol, she was all business—clipped and conscientious.

  After the first couple hours, Tami was chilled through and antsy. She’d missed a staff meeting, and Flootie must have had to reschedule her appointments for the day. And there were still forms to file with the Office of Ingress in advance of the warding.

  “Miss Reaverson?”

  She stirred and looked up into Jiminy’s smiling face. “Yes, Reaver Foster.”

  “I’m nearly finished with the fine-tuning, but it seems you’re throwing off my balance.”

  Tami looked between him and her brother, who was pinched and pale. Joe only offered a shrug. It was hard to follow much of what the younger man said, especially when it came to the mythical intricacies of sigilcraft.

  “If I may be so bold,” said Jiminy, “that’s an interesting necklace you’re wearing.”

  She touched the stones hidden by three layers of thick clothing. How had he known they were there?

  “Purple, I gather. All shades. Good size. Excellent quality.” Rubbing his fingertips together, he asked, “Might I have a look?”

  Joe spoke up. “He’s been using crystals along the boundaries. They’re part of the wards.”

  “Anchors,” Jiminy said. “Bigger, but not so fine. Which is why your stones are throwing me off.”

  “Sorry?” she ventured, hugging Biddie.

  “Nothing to apologize for. I enjoy a challenge!” He shifted his weight and gestured with a flutter of fingers. “They’re in the amethyst range, right?”

  “Right. Yes.” Tami fumbled with fastenings in order to allow the reaver his peek.

  Jiminy whistled softly. “Who warded you?”

  “I … what?”

  “That’s quite an array. I’m willing to bet that with personal wards of this caliber, an Amaranthine couldn’t distinguish you from an average human.” He cast a glance at their surroundings, frowning thoughtfully. “Interesting. Do you ever remove them?”

  “They don’t come off.”

  He rubbed his chin, then grinned. “I wonder who you are under there?”

  Tami had no context to offer an answer, but Biddie giggled.

  “Someone in a position to know!” Jiminy offered a wink. “What do you think of your sister, Biddie?”

  “Wet and cold and worried,” the girl said succinctly.

  Joe was at Tami’s elbow in two long strides. “Let’s go in,” he coaxed. “Get some lunch. Warm up.”

  Tami hesitated. “Doesn’t Biddie need to stay by her tree?”

  Jiminy raised a hand. “It’s best to be clear from the outset. This isn’t Biddie’s tree. Biddie is the tree.”

  “Wouldn’t that mean it’s even more important? Although, she’s been to the house, and that’s quite a ways from here. For that matter, is it all right for me to go? I have work.”

  “I don’t know enough to advise you. I’m no expert on Amaranthine trees.” Jiminy waved her along. “Go with Joe. I’ll wrap up here, then see about finding the expertise you need.”

  Joe took Biddie and helped Tami to her feet, gruffly saying, “Come home, Tami. You’re not a tree.”

  When he strode off in the direction of the house, she followed. And when she reached his side, he slowed his steps and took her hand. Tami pulled in a deep breath and found reason to smile. As long as Joe was with her, everything would be fine.

  The dreary day was all but over when Melissa hauled a blissfully bedraggled Jiminy into Red Gate Farm’s kitchen. Aunt Hiro ladled thick chicken soup into bowls, and Uncle Abel dropped warm towels over their heads before retreating into the next room.

  “I’m pleased, but I’m also puzzled.” Jiminy roughed up his hair, which stuck out at odd angles until he ran his fingers distractedly through it. “Did you get a look at Tami’s necklace?”

  “Yes, she showed me.”

  “Those stones are exquisite. Really similar to the ones my mentor wears, so I know. Nothing gets past them.”

  “That’s good. It’s probably kept Tami safe.”

  Jiminy hummed. “Granted. But … have you noticed how many varieties of Ephemera are making themselves at home?”

  “They were my first clue.”

  “Right. So.” Jiminy’s eyebrows lifted. “If Tami’s soul is on lockdown, what’s attracting them?”

  Melissa stirred her spoon through her soup. “Odds are on her twin, right?”

  Jiminy’s brows furrowed. “I know Amaranthine trees attract pollinators, but I spotted glimsleek and midivar. They’re known mooches with a taste for reaver souls.”

  “Not Biddie. I meant Joe. Fraternal twins.”

  He shot a look toward the family room, then quietly asked, “Can I borrow your phone?”

  “What for?”

  He was nose-to-nose with her, quick as a wink, but her reflexes weren’t anything to be trifled with. Melissa had one arm across at his throat; with the other, she prodded him between the ribs.

  Jiminy’s eyes widened. “Did you just pull a knife on me?”

  “Boundaries,” she demanded in an undertone.

  “Would it hurt to get a little closer?”

  Oh, she’d make sure it hurt. Melissa wasn’t in the mood for nonsense. “There is more than one kind of pain.”

  His smile faded. “I know.”

  “And you’re a horrible flirt.”

  Jiminy said, “I’m just cheerful.”

  “You’re utterly incorrigible.”

  He sat back, and Melissa sheathed her blade. She glanced around, but the faint murmur of voices could be heard from the other room. Maybe Uncle George was giving his family more explanations. That would be good.

  “Melissa.” Jiminy kept his voice low. “People come to Founders looking for two things. The coffee may keep them going, but kindness and courtesy give them something to smile about. Even if it’s just for a moment.”<
br />
  “Your gift to all the girls on campus?”

  “Well, I’ve tried it with some of the males, but they’re generally less receptive to personal remarks.” He shrugged. “Doon-wen told me to stop scaring off the clientele.”

  Oh, he was too much. “I’ve seen how you operate.”

  Jiminy held up his hands, pleading innocence. “Like I said, Melissa. The compliments are a service of the shop. I’m not allowed past the counter, so that’s all any of them will have of me—a smile, a kind word, a pretty cup. Froth and nonsense.”

  Melissa stood, crossing to the stove to get another serving of soup. If she was objective, was Rook any different? He was familiar with their customers, and he had his fair share of fans among the college students. Was it the same?

  Jiminy followed her, dishing his own second serving. “You’re something new. Rook put you on my side of the counter, and that means something.”

  She frowned. “Rook hired me because I could fend you off.”

  “Wrong.” Jiminy scooted his chair closer to hers when they reclaimed their seats at the table. “Wolves are very protective. It means that Rook trusts you with me.”

  Melissa knew she was missing something.

  Jiminy tried again. “You have the pack’s approval. That’s never happened before. And since I’m allowed to get closer, I plan to.”

  This was all turned around.

  “You don’t think we can get along?” Jiminy asked innocently.

  “Maybe. If you kept your hands to yourself.” Melissa waved her spoon at him. “Use your words.”

  “I will. And they won’t be empty.”

  She rolled her eyes. “And they won’t be enough. I won’t let you paw at me simply because I’m within reach.”

  Jiminy took a few bites, then asked, “Do you know how wolves communicate?”

  Melissa didn’t dignify that with an answer. Of course she did.

  “Words. Posture. Sounds. Touch,” he listed. “We’re going to run into all kinds of trouble if you don’t let me touch you. Some things don’t translate well into words.”