Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox

by Forthright

Hisoka casually remarked, “Moony is a very wolvish term. A dragon’s awe is reserved for the wind.”

  “That works. You’re shaking like a leaf in a gale.” Gingko tapped one of Lapis’ bracelets. “What’s the deal? Are your wards out of whack?”

  “Forgive my eagerness.” Lapis sat back on his heels, gaze averted. “My heart has been in disarray since I learned of this child’s existence.”

  Ginko’s ears flattened and flicked forward again. “Because there’s a rogue dragon destroying your clans’ reputation?”

  “Far from it. Although I can understand a little of what drives him.”

  “You … understand?” Anger lent a growl to Gingko’s voice. “He’s a serial killer, a kidnapper, and a rapist. Which part of that has your sympathies?”

  “I can understand his frustration,” he corrected. “My caste is celibate. I cannot take a bondmate since our females belong to the harems of the lords. While I understand my place, it does not stop the stirrings.”

  “You mean you want the chance at a family?” whispered Gingko.

  Lapis simply nodded.

  “Even if it means your kids would be crossers.”

  Again, a solemn nod. Lapis gently placed his hands on either side of the half-fox’s face, giving him a wistful smile. “You represent hope, Gingko. And your brother is a glimpse of a possible future.”

  Tsumiko’s heart went out to the dragon. On the face of things, Lapis Mossberne was the most powerful dragon in the world. But in many ways, he was helpless against the traditions that ruled his clan. She touched Argent’s arm.

  Kissing her temple, he took Kyrie and murmured, “Remain here.”

  She nodded, since the dragon obviously had issues where reavers were concerned.

  Argent joined Gingko on the floor, and Lapis soon had his arms full. Kyrie reached for his new minder with an insistent squeak. Breaking into a misty smile, Lapis answered with a fluttering croon, which the baby struggled to duplicate. Soon, they were equally rapt, sharing a tuneful exchange that was probably the equivalent of dragonish baby talk.

  Only then did Tsumiko notice that Hisoka had moved much closer. The better to watch Lapis’ expression. The cat murmured, “Thank you for your indulgence, Miss Hajime.”

  “I’m glad you intervened on his behalf.”

  “Hnn. He is shockingly shy about personal matters.”

  Tsumiko ventured, “He’s not allowed to have a wife?”

  Hisoka lowered himself to the arm of the sofa. “For dragons, there are two ways of life—the harem or the heights. Children are born to the former, and the latter are filled with celibate males of middling to meager strength. Only one in four becomes a father.”

  Realizing that Lapis was listening in, Tsumiko addressed him directly. “The newspapers call you a dragon lord.”

  “An honorary designation, I assure you. True lords are not sent into the heights. And they have too many cares at home to mingle with humans. I was deemed the most likely to cooperate with reavers given my past, ah … shall we say excesses.”

  “Lapis, you were the only sensible choice,” chided Hisoka.

  “The most respectable of the expendables,” he countered.

  As Harmonious weighed in with increasingly flamboyant compliments, the dragon spokesman lost any lingering mystique. And Tsumiko found herself short a few more fears. It was as if Hisoka-sensei knew exactly what had been bothering her, and he wasn’t willing to wait for her trust. Nothing so passive. He was in pursuit—systematically, aggressively, yet politely.

  “Miss Hajime?”

  She blinked up at Hisoka, who always seemed so relaxed.

  “Yes, Sensei?”

  Under the cover of ongoing banter, he said, “My nephew made a rather cryptic suggestion earlier, and I wondered if you could solve his little riddle for me.”

  “Deece.”

  At his name, the guard took a tentative step in her direction. His brows arched in silent inquiry, but Hisoka waved him off. “Yes, Deece. He thinks some hand-holding is in order.”

  Tsumiko caught on. “With Michael?”

  “That was the gist. And I wouldn’t be opposed, since Michael has been precious to me since he was an impertinent lad of five.” Hisoka gently added, “If the lady permits.”

  A good plan. She acquiesced with a nod, but she also gave a small push, unwilling to remain in a wholly passive role where Hisoka was concerned. “What do cats revere?”

  His head tipped to one side. “Felines are generally considered quite irreverent.”

  Tsumiko tried again. “Wolves have the moon. And dragons have the wind.”

  Understanding sparked in Hisoka’s eyes, and he leaned close to whisper, “You will not like the answer, but there is one that fits.”

  “Will you tell me?”

  “Certainly.” Hisoka’s smile turned coy. “Cats have secrets.”

  . . .

  Deece took it upon himself to lead Tsumiko to Michael’s temporary office. “You do not have to be afraid of Uncle,” he said quietly.

  Was that a warning? “Are you afraid of him?”

  “Are you?”

  “A little. But I can’t imagine why.” Tsumiko fiddled with her cardigan sleeve. “None of the others make me uneasy.”

  “Your instincts are good.” Deece paused before opening the door. “Fear is close kin to awe. And both have their place.”

  Their research room was as cluttered as ever, if not moreso. Michael was opening wooden crates, spilling fragrant wood shavings all over an extravagant Turkish rug as he uncovered large blocks of crystal. Precious cargo.

  Argent lifted a rosy hued chunk as if it weighed nothing. He and Hisoka had already placed several others around the room’s perimeter, final preparations for the breaking of the bond. While they made minute adjustments, Tsumiko inspected the crest painted on the crate’s lid—a faceted flower that looked like a jeweler’s workmanship. “Is this for a clan or a cooperative?”

  Michael set aside his crowbar. “Glintrubble is a cooperative that specializes in mining and shaping the stones that amplify a reaver’s abilities. Their community includes horses, rabbits, and bats. And reavers, of course.”

  “Is there a lavender one yet, First of Wards?” called Lapis.

  The dragon lolled in the corner, serving in a largely supervisory capacity since his hands were full. With Kyrie. Ever since surrendering the little one into the dragon’s hands, she’d barely seen him. Kyrie spent his days in increasingly precocious attempts to emulate Lapis’ vocalizations. And all night long, he sprawled upon Argent’s blaze, with the fox’s low rumbles to lull him into dreams.

  “I’ll leave that to you and Argent, if you don’t mind,” said Michael. “Tsumiko and Sensei are borrowing me for a bit.”

  Lapis twiddled his fingers dismissively. “Mettlebright is more than adequate to the task at hand, but do not dally. The arrangements are all but made, and eagerness makes him snappish.”

  Tsumiko checked, but Argent only shook his head and waved them off.

  Michael ushered them into the same small parlor where he tended Deece, and he dropped to their usual seat, slouching carelessly as he patted the cushions to either side. “My new technique is in high demand. But go easy on me, Sensei. You may be more than I can manage.”

  “I should think that was obvious.” Hisoka settled onto the sofa and mussed his former student’s hair. “Only my mother still labors under the misapprehension that I can be managed.”

  Tsumiko eased into her corner as Hisoka quizzed Michael for more details. His descriptions were sketchy, based more on improvisation than fine tuning, but his former teacher seemed intrigued. They might have drifted further into theories and potential applications if she hadn’t placed her hand over Michael’s.

  “Right!” He turned his hand under hers, twining their fingers t
ogether. “Easier to show than tell. Ready, Sensei?”

  After murmured assents, a hush settled on the room. At first, nothing happened, but Tsumiko wasn’t surprised. Awareness had come slowly with Deece as well, like gradually waking from a restful sleep and finding someone kind sitting at your bedside. So she waited for some hint of personality to ripple the calm.

  Michael murmured, “No need to be shy, you two. The way’s made.”

  Tsumiko slowly shook her head. Still nothing. Of course, it wasn’t an empty nothing, like the blank echo of something absent. There was a warmth to this waiting space. All they needed was for Hisoka’s reaction to stir at the edges of her awareness.

  Maybe the connection wasn’t working after all?

  “Sensei,” Michael chided. “Are you dallying just to spite Lapis? Or have you suddenly developed a shy streak?”

  “I have no wish to unsettle Miss Hajime.”

  “If I wasn’t holding her back, you might be unsettled.” There was an edge to Michael’s cheerfulness. “Don’t underestimate the lady of this house.”

  Tsumiko asked, “Why would anyone be afraid of me?”

  “Instinct,” said Michael. “But this isn’t about comparative class or magnitude; it’s connection. We may not be tending, but there’s trust involved.”

  “Something that cannot be rushed,” said Hisoka.

  “Granted.” Michael jostled the leader of the Amaranthine world with his elbow. “But it won’t be won or lost if we don’t provide opportunity.”

  “Sly boy. Quoting me to corner me?”

  “Nonsense, Sensei. I have you by the tail.” Michael closed his eyes and smiled. “But I promise not to pull.”

  And there it was at last, the gentle pressure of a personality other than her own, because she could feel Hisoka Twineshaft’s affection for Michael. Fierce, steadfast, and enormous as it reverberated through the calm. Only then did Tsumiko’s perception shift into focus. She’d been waiting for Hisoka to emerge from the waiting warmth and show himself. But he hadn’t been hiding at all. Hisoka wasn’t with her in that calm place. He was the calm.

  . . .

  Argent adjusted the angle of a chunk of aquamarine stone that didn’t need changing. He put it back. If it weren’t for the houseful of guests, he might have busied himself with dusting. Or even polishing silver. Not that he missed his household duties. But the wait stretched his patience to the breaking point.

  “Feeling snappish?” Lapis sidled up to check the crystal. “Do you distrust our feline overlord?”

  “Should I?”

  Lapis only offered a low laugh.

  Voices rang along the hallway, and Gingko burst into the room. He only made it a few steps before Naroo-soh caught up and hauled him into an embrace that looked more like brotherly harassment than affection.

  “Roo-nii!” he growled. “Enough, already! I saw you yesterday!”

  “And leave a packmate neglected? You are like a brother to my brother and dear as you are adored!” Naroo-soh rubbed his cheek against Gingko’s in the kind of playful display usually reserved for little ones. “Where is your usual enthusiasm?”

  Gingko’s growl deepened, but his struggles were about as serious as his tormentor’s, given the wag in both their tails.

  Then Michael escorted Tsumiko into the room, closely followed by Hisoka, and Argent relaxed somewhat. All signs pointed to peace. She must have decided to trust Twineshaft in full. A needful step if they had any hope of defeating the bonds that had made his life a misery, and to do it while preserving the life he wished to share.

  Argent wouldn’t let them take any risks.

  Michael scanned the room. “Is everything ready?”

  “Long since.” Lapis jibed, “Cats and their dalliances.”

  Hisoka remained unperturbed. “Can the wind blow any way but its own?”

  Lapis acknowledged the dragonish proverb with a sweeping bow in Tsumiko’s direction. Argent was still trying to decide if Tsumiko had been insulted when Adoona-soh strode into the room.

  “Where’s Harmonious?” asked Hisoka. For he was the only one missing.

  “Is he even necessary?” drawled Lapis.

  Hisoka smiled softly. “Be nice.”

  Naroo-soh crossed to the nearest window and lifted the sash, letting in a rush of cold air. His piercing whistle was answered by a cheery bark. Catching Argent’s eye, Gingko slowly counted the seconds on upraised fingers. At seven, Starmark bustled into the room, smelling of winter and pine and overflowing with humble apologies.

  Decent speed. Decent fellow.

  Argent eased into a more guarded stance when Hisoka came to his side. If the cat noticed, he was too polite to say as much. Argent asked, “How did Michael’s little experiment go?”

  “Your lady has a clarion-clear sense of self.” Hisoka’s gaze slipped out of focus for a few moments. When he refocused, it was with a wistful expression. “She is a welcome surprise.”

  “Already weaving her into your plans?”

  He shook his head. “My vision of the future has been unraveled and rewoven. Her plans are good. I will support them. And you.”

  “Tsk. If this works.”

  With a light touch to Argent’s wrist, Hisoka raised his voice. “Shall we?”

  Naroo-soh whisked Kyrie away from Lapis and joined Gingko on the hearth while the Four solemnly moved into their positions. The usual polite hold every Amaranthine kept on their essential self slipped free, filling the room with darkening wildness. The very air seemed to snarl and lash and sing as it thrummed. And this time … yes, this time Argent dared to hope for success.

  Tsumiko took her place at the room’s center, and he swiftly joined her. By mutual agreement, she did not speak. One word amiss, one misbegotten phrase … he shuddered.

  Cold fingertips touched his face, and he met her imploring gaze. He had worried her.

  Bending to press his cheek to hers, he urged, “Courage. This is not an insurmountable mystery. It is a sigil—well-crafted, but crafted nonetheless. And what has been made can be unmade. If this languid dragon does not solve the riddle first, the cat’s paw will surely strike, and this damnable construction will dissolve, leaving nothing but the bonds of our choosing.”

  He felt her nod.

  And then hands were pulling them apart.

  Starmark and Adoona-soh flanked Tsumiko, making her seem quite small by comparison. But their silent posturing pleased Argent. The wolf looked like a mother with her cub, defying any who might intend harm, even the moon itself. And Harmonious had dropped his playful guise, revealing a deep-seated capability. Here was a dog of war.

  Their strength would become Tsumiko’s shield.

  “Languid?” At his elbow, Lapis murmured, “Shall I show you my true fervor?”

  “Stick to the plan, lord dragon.” Hisoka’s order held the tang of steel. “We are ready when you are, Michael.”

  And then Argent himself was being pulled apart, pried open, and plucked like harp strings under a tuner’s fingertips. He responded well enough to Michael’s familiar delicacy. Their trust ran deep. Stranger—yet strangely compelling—was Hisoka’s careless domination. Like waking to a purring cat on your face.

  Lapis acted with a swiftness that belied his dilatory manner. He was far from the most powerful of the Four, but in the intimacy of their circumstances, Argent decided that he was perhaps the most compassionate. No, that wasn’t quite right. Although Lapis had yet to realize his potential, the dragon had betrayed a startling capacity. Given the chance, he would surely be the most loving.

  As the bond loosened, it lashed out. Once again, Argent found it necessary to retreat into himself, trusting all else to his companions. At every moment, he feared that needles would enter his soul, punishing him for his desires, warning him that Tsumiko was suffering. But then a hand found his shoulder,
gently kneading taught muscles.

  “All is well. She is safe,” Twineshaft promised. “See how she shines?”

  Argent risked a peek and slammed his eyes shut. Now was not the time to indulge in awe, but he stood by his initial assessment. By the ninth tail, her soul was staggering.

  Michael’s revised plan was an adaptation on the ploy they’d used to coax Kyrie away from his mother. By combining their considerable strength, Harmonious and Adoona-soh were hiding Tsumiko, erasing her brilliance, tricking the bond into thinking him already unfettered, presumably by death. Meanwhile, Lapis attacked the sigils, destroying the anchors that had enslaved a fox to the Hajime line. Argent could hide nothing.

  “This is heinous,” Lapis hissed. “How many generations …?”

  “No questions,” Hisoka reminded, though none were needed. Every layer a lifetime. All they had to do was count.

  Hisoka’s outrage took a practical form; he was soon working in close tandem with Michael, whose hands wove through endless patterns. The baby whimpered. The crystals hummed. Power vibrated against Argent’s sternum, and every hair seemed to stand on end.

  More than anything, Argent dreaded the moment he would need to pull free. On their last attempt, he could have killed her. Even now, the backlash of a broken link could punish either of them. Maybe both.

  But the sting of the whip never came. And Hisoka’s voice was in his ear. “She is free. You are next.”

  Was it possible?

  “It is safe to fight,” said Lapis. “Rise up. Break away.”

  Argent drew upon his considerable resources, brandishing the full flourish of his tails with a snarl of defiance. Something snapped, and he recoiled, swaying back into a combined embrace. Hisoka steadied him with an arm around his shoulders; Lapis had him by the waist. Power roared in Argent’s ears as he struggled against the indignity of a swoon.

  And then Michael’s arms were around him, and the man was laughing and crying.

  “Foolish boy,” murmured Argent, trying not to cling too desperately.

  Gingko pushed into their huddle, displacing Lapis as a pillar of support. “Well?” he demanded. “Did it work?”