Treasure Room

Kyrie expected no trouble slipping past the barriers protecting the treasure room at Kikusawa Shrine. This was the final hurdle. It had been far more difficult to get permission for a trip to Keishi in the first place. Ginkgo had offered to bring him, but Dad wouldn’t hear of it. Too many dangers lurked beyond the safe haven of home. Crossers gone missing. Spirited away by foxes.

It was Mother who suggested someone else for his bodyguard, and Dad couldn’t deny that Kyrie would be safe in a wolf’s keeping. Not when that wolf was Boonmar-fen Elderbough.

Of course, that meant Kyrie had a whole new problem.

“Going somewhere, kid?”

“Just … around …?” he tried. Boon was surprisingly difficult to elude.

The tracker crouched in front of him, peering into his face. “May as well level with me.”

Kyrie tentatively offered, “I will not lie.”

“Wouldn’t matter if you did.” He gave Kyrie’s nose an affectionate tap, then touched his own. “You can’t fool this. Or me. So bring the rest of your team up to speed. What’s the plan?”

“I want to check something.”

The wolf beckoned with both hands. “You’re skimping on details I need. Increase my trust.”

Kyrie asked, “Are you going to try to stop me?”

“Not necessarily. I’ve been known to bend a rule or two for a good cause. Good at keeping secrets, too. Even better at teamwork.” He pointed a finger. “Also, I like your attitude. You don’t think I can stop you, do you?”

“No,” he admitted.

“We’re gonna revisit that notion another time. But for now …?”

“The winds who followed the ships home from that island have been whispering. If I understand correctly, then there is something I must do.”

“Here at Kikusawa.”

“Yes. I will not leave the shrine.”

Boon’s brows rose. “I heard the rumors. Sinder mostly, but Moon chimed in. You really do chat with wind imps?”

Kyrie shyly admitted, “They like me.”

“I like you, too, kid. What else can you tell me?”

“What I plan to do is not dangerous, nor is it specifically forbidden. And I want to do it myself.”

“I can understand that. All right. Sure.” Boon pointed to one of the shrine buildings. “I’ll grab a seat in the sun, do a little basking. And you holler if you need a hand.”

“I will.”

Reaching slowly, in case Boon wouldn’t like it, Kyrie touched the wolf’s face, tracing the scars that ran in ragged lines down his cheek. Boon held Kyrie’s gaze the whole time, his posture relaxed, even receptive. There were questions Kyrie wanted to ask, but his errand was more interesting right now. Maybe that meant he was selfish?

Lowering his gaze, Kyrie murmured, “Thank you, Boon.”

“Not a problem.”

So Kyrie turned and jogged away, taking the first corner in order to slip out of sight. A leap put him on a tile rooftop where trackless snow heaped. Even if he was light on his feet, he’d leave prints, but would anyone notice? Deciding to minimize any evidence, he ran away from his destination and gathered himself for a leap into Kusunoki’s branches.

He’d played in the shrine’s sacred tree many times, but it had taken a while for him to properly remember him. The tree had stirred from a centuries-long sleep around the same time that Kimiko had begun courting Ever’s older brother. By the time Kyrie’s best friend had moved to the shrine from the Starmark compound across town, Kyrie already counted Kusunoki among his friends, albeit a secret friend. Not many people outside the Miyabe family knew that the Keishi landmark was a person.

Kyrie dropped onto the treasure room’s roof, crouched in the shadows long enough to be certain the building was empty, then befriended one of the crystals anchoring its wards. A minute is all it took, and he slipped inside.

Moving with care, he found the cabinet and opened it.

Wait. No. It was filled with nice things, but they were so ordinary. Nothing like the tales brought to him by anxious winds. Confused, he quietly closed the double doors and peered around the room for another cupboard. But … surely not? Had someone moved the bottles?

“What are you doing in here, Merciful Dragon?”

Kyrie ducked his head guiltily. “Hello, Kusunoki.”

The tree lightly rested a hand atop his head. “You are here without permission. Sakiko will not like it.”

“I thought something was here.” He indicated the cabinet. “Did you know that someone long ago trapped four wind imps? I was looking for their bottles.”

“I know where they are.”

Kyrie asked, “Show me?”

“What do you plan to do?”

“Break the seals.”

The tree took a long time to respond. “There would be consequences, I think.”

He doubted Kusunoki meant Aunt Sakiko’s scolding. “Good ones, I hope. Winds should be free.”

“Hmm.” Finally, Kusunoki admitted, “You chose the correct cupboard, but it has a secret.”

Kyrie watched closely while the tree demonstrated the trick to opening a recess where many precious items were secured. His heart leapt at the sight of four bottles. He took the first with both hands and marveled at the weight of it. Then marveled anew at how skimpily the prison was warded. Anyone could open these. It would be as simple as pulling a cork.

He murmured, “This will be easier than I thought.”

“Not in here,” Kusunoki cautioned.

“Help me carry them outside?”

“Certainly.” The tree showed no qualms over taking the remaining three bottles from their hiding place. Scooping Kyrie into his other arm, Kusunoki stood and said, “My way is faster.”

Kyrie blinked when the dimness of the treasure room was replaced by daylight. Kusunoki lowered him to the sturdy boards of a treehouse that Kyrie and Ever had built with help from his Uncle Laud. Lashed among Kusunoki’s branches, it was well-hidden even in winter because the tree was evergreen.

Sitting down, Kyrie inspected the simple tag on the bottle he held. It said, SOUTH, and its simple seal had been broken. That meant this had once been Tzefira’s prison.

Kusunoki knelt opposite and carefully arrayed the remaining bottles between them. They also had labels—EAST, WEST, and NORTH.

“Do you remember when this bottle was opened?” Kyrie asked, tapping the deep green bottle with the tip of one painted claw.

“No. It was while I was sleeping.”

Kyrie said, “So you do not know what will happen when I open the others?”

The tree imp tipped his head to one side, then the other. “Only that there will be consequences. This is very reckless of you.”

“Do you think so?” He ran his fingertips across the rippling surface of a bottle that was the deepening blue of a twilit sky. “It seems the right thing to do.”

“I agree. But why you?” Kusunoki solemnly added, “Why in haste? Why in secret?”

“Winds have always liked me. They are friendly and even helpful, but they never stay.” He really was being selfish. “I think these winds will be different.”

Kusunoki frowned. “Little dragon, do you want to woo them to your side? Because in all the stories I know, wind imps are tempestuous. Think of the trouble they gave Persiflage Beckonthrall.”

Kyrie brightened. “I have met Lord Beckonthrall. He is happy with his wives.”

“Now.” The tree imp looked half-ready to snatch back the collection of bottles. “Consider instead the beginning of his story. It is meant to keep other dragons from making his mistakes.”

“I am not wooing winds. I want to release them. They may be grateful.”

Kusunoki hesitated. “Your heart is set?”

“It is.”

“Then … I will do what I can to keep you safe.”

Kyrie reached again for the tall, blue bottle. Its tag claimed that it held the west wind. He’d looked up all the stories he could, but none of them ever explained which wind came from which direction. Nor had he been able to find their given names. All he really knew from Bethiel’s lore were the types of winds that he’d supposedly tamed.

A summer breeze.

A typhoon.

A whirlwind.

A thunderstorm.

If true, then it was probably a good thing that Kusunoki had brought him outside before opening the bottles. With little more than a fleeting prayer that all would be well, Kyrie braced the blue bottle against his chest and worked free its stopper.

Nothing happened.

Kyrie traded a look with Kusunoki, who wore an uneasy expression.

But then … a faint scent …? That’s when Kyrie realized that all the other winds in the vicinity had gone still. Worried the trapped wind was too weak to escape, he offered a soft warble of encouragement and tipped, as if to pour the imp out. Still nothing.

He risked a sniff at the bottle’s opening.

Kusunoki covered his mouth with his hand, eyes wide.

Kyrie ducked his head, chastised. But he was sure the new scent had come from the bottle. Perhaps an imp had been there and gone? Escaped. That was good. It wasn’t as if Kyrie had been expecting thanks. He should get on with it.

Setting the blue bottle next to the green, he reached for the one with a rich purple hue that wasn’t much different than the color of his hair. This one’s tag boldly declared EAST. He pushed at the stopper, then dug in his clawtips. The seal came free with a hiss that blew his hair into immediate disarray.

“That … worked …?” he whispered to Kusunoki.

The tree peered upward. He still looked worried. “That was not a happy imp.”

“Can you blame them?”

The final bottle was also blue, but a lighter, brighter shade. Not quite sky blue. Or perhaps it was the color of the sky in some distant land. This one’s tag read NORTH, and Kyrie coaxed the stopper free.

Something sort of … gasped.

“Do not be afraid,” Kyrie urged.

All at once, wind buffeted him from all sides, and he yelped in surprise when the tumult threw him from the platform. He was falling. But then he collided with Kusunoki’s broad chest, and there were strong arms around him, and they were safe atop the roof of the Miyabe house. Kyrie meant to thank the tree, but he was startled by a loud crash and the tinkle of breaking glass.

An instant later, he and Kusunoki were on a different rooftop. One of the storehouses this time.

“What happened?” Kyrie asked, only to flinch when glass exploded against the snowy tiles at Kusunoki’s feet, sending purple shards flying.

The tree imp rushed him to another corner of the shrine courtyard, on the ground this time, near a row of stone lanterns.

“Those were two of the bottles,” Kusunoki calmly answered.

“They are breaking their prisons.”

Something whipped past, crashing against stone pavers. The green bottle this time. Again, the tree took him to a new place, back up among his branches. “Merciful Dragon, they are aiming for you.”

“But …!” There was a rattling in the tree’s branches as foliage was stripped from limbs, torn into a whirlwind of confusion. The scent of bruised leaves and spilled sap drove a spike of guilt into Kyrie’s heart. He exclaimed, “Are you hurt?”

Kusunoki didn’t answer, only ducked as the fourth bottle whizzed past to plummet down. Kyrie could hear the bottle smacking against leaves and bouncing off limbs. Far below, it shattered.

When the tinkling stopped, silence reigned for two beats. Then Boon’s voice carried. “You okay, kid?”

“I am uninjured.”

“Need that hand yet?” the wolf blandly inquired.

Kyrie listened to the stillness, then offered the only answer he could. “I … I may need a broom …?”

To his surprise, all Boon said was, “On it.”