Namesake

Juuyu remained at Stately House in order to help prepare the way for a Scattering. Nothing new for a tribute of his years, but neither was it usual. To make safe a group of tree-kin colonists, most of whom were children. To mingle with refugees who remembered him and trusted him and took to calling him uncle. To arrive in time to see his brother’s delight in his bondmate … and to celebrate the nest they’d establish in this good place.

Reasons to sing were multiplying, and he didn’t hold back.

And it was a heady thing, dueting with a dragon bard.

Nearly as exhilarating as catching the songs of stars, who drew near to this place, full of portents and promises. Tuning their lullabies to the baby talk of the four wardstones, one of whom had found a thread of longing Juuyu had missed. Or at least mistook.

Sinder.

Juuyu was pleased to note that the dragon was humming again.

It was a sound that had faded over the months, and its absence was a clue that Juuyu had overlooked. Why had he not noticed? It had begun last summer, after Juuyu extracted the young dragon from Wardenclave. At the time, Sinder had been glad enough to return to his side. But perhaps there had been a certain amount of … pining.

Waaseyaa and Zisa were often mentioned, but had Timur been the true source of the wistfulness in Sinder’s shifting moods? Mmm. Perhaps. Even if they had not formed a love match, dragons held tightly to the things that mattered to them. Juuyu should have guessed there was a bond in place the moment he saw Sinder go limp at a touch from Timur. Had that relaxation been—at least in part—relief?

But the feline. Timur’s Kith partner. That one … mmm.

Maybe it was boredom that had caused Juuyu to bend his focus Fend’s way. And maybe it was none of his business. And yet he had a scant handful of days before the Scattering would arrive. Juuyu checked his pocket watch and nodded to himself. Four more days. He would decide whether or not to confront Fend in four days.

In the meantime, he had three eldermost storms to consider.

He rapped on the door to the Rosewood Parlor precisely at eleven.

Nonny shot him a look that might have been exasperated. “It’s open. You don’t have to knock if it’s open. And as you can see, we’re the farthest thing from warded.” He rolled his eyes toward the passel of crossers crowding Anan. “This is what they don’t tell you about gathering storms. They gather stuff. Mostly crossers. How do you take your tea?”

Juuyu needed several moments to take in the unexpected glut of information, and once he had, he found Anjou at his elbow, a dainty cup on offer. He took the tea with murmured thanks, tasted it with appreciation, and held the gaze of Jacques Smythe’s older brother long enough to earn comment.

“How do you do? I’m Boniface, recently attached to your brother’s cortege.” His posture was pointedly polite, and the angle of his head suggested avian instruction. “Still in training. Still pants at kids. Not that this one seems to mind.”

Boniface Smythe perched primly on a tuffet, and he was thoroughly entwined in the coils of the girl-child who was part midivar.

“Do you need assistance?”

“What? No. We’re getting on well enough. I’ve had to get used to coils and scales and things, haven’t I? Once I arrived in Keishi, they put me in with Sylphon Basqwend. Been flatmates for weeks. Most mornings, I wake to coils. It’s less nightmarish once you get over the shock. He’s a good sort.”

“Sylphon. Younger brother to Spokesperson Krail Basqwend.” Juuyu had looked into all the members of Suuzu’s staff as a matter of course.

“That’s the chap. Fabled races and all that.” Peering into faceted eyes of iridescent yellow, Boniface murmured, “You’re enough to make a bloke believe in pixies.”

“Bother is half-star,” said Kyrie. “And half midivar.”

“Half … what now? Wait a tick. Did you just call her Bother?”

Sibley spoke up, calling Juuyu’s attention to his presence. “Lady asked me to think of a better name for her, but … names are hard.”

“Lord, they can be a trial. I’ve more than my fair share.”

Kyrie trilled amusement and said, “Tell him, Uncle Boniface. Share your whole name.”

With the hint of a self-deprecating smile, he announced, “My full name is Boniface Percival Christobel Yves Smythe.”

Nonny said, “There you go, Sibley. We can call her Bon-Bon.”

“That may be the least appealing namesake you could propose. Aside from Yvette. I couldn’t bear it if you called her after Maman. And besides, it might get confusing if there were two Bon-Bons. It’s the only thing my brother ever calls me.”

“Your offer is very generous.” Kyrie looked to Sibley. “Do you like any of Uncle Boniface’s spares? If they share a name, that will be another bond. They will be family.”

Juuyu thought Boniface might like to protest, but the little girl lay her head upon his shoulder, and he eased into a receptive posture. Feline nuances this time.

Anjou began to purr.

Sibley brightened. “Hear that, Bother? You and me, we’ll be cousins.”

Boniface seemed wary, but he held his peace, letting the children make their plans. Juuyu decided that at heart, Boniface Smythe was a kind person. When he next spoke, it was only to murmur, “I wish Sylphon could get a look at you. I think he’d be charmed.”

“Careful what you wish for, Bon-Bon.” Nonny had just warmed up Anan’s tea. “She’s a barrier dodger and a professional stowaway. You might get back home and find her in your baggage.”

“I thought Uncle Boniface belonged here,” said Kyrie. “With Uncle Suuzu.”

“I have work,” the man countered. “At the embassy.”

“You could work from home.”

Boniface hesitated, but he shook his head. “Hardly feasible. I’ve mentors and tutors and meetings and … lord, there’s so much I need to learn before I can be useful.”

Nonny said, “Going away to school’s not so bad. Bon-Bon will be back after he’s had enough lessons.”

“Perhaps. If that’s what Suuzu needs from me.” Refocusing on Sibley, Boniface asked, “Did you need me to run through my names again. Or we could dip into Jackie’s many monikers, since he seems to be an especial favorite of yours.”

“He saved me.”

“Good of him,” Boniface mildly returned.

“Guess I already forgot your names. They’re different.”

So Boniface reeled them off again, this time spinning out family lore, grumping even as he reminisced.

Finally, Sibley asked, “Christobel?”

“If you’re sure.”

“I mean … it’s kinda girly.”

“I’ve always thought so, too.” And arching his brows at the clinging girl, he asked, “What’s your opinion, mademoiselle?”

She flicked the trailing end of her tail in Sibley’s direction. It must have been something unique to them, because he immediately twined his tail around hers. “Yeah. Okay. We both like Christobel.”

While Boniface lapsed into a discourse on feminine endings in French, Kyrie slipped to Juuyu’s side and said, “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. You mentioned a predicament. And mediation …?” He inclined his head toward Anan. “Between you and these imps?”

“Between these imps and Opulence Windlore.” With a small shrug, Kyrie said, “I have tried to reason with them, but we are at an impasse.”

“Mmm. Perhaps a quieter setting?”

“Yes. Thank you.” The boy turned toward Anan and announced, “We are going with Juuyu.”

With unhurried care, Anan extracted himself from his many admirers, returned his teacup to Nonny, and pulled the case holding the Bamboo Stave from atop a sizeable armoire.

Only when the eldermost storm was ready did Kyrie nod and say, “Lead on.”

Juuyu strode into the hall, but he drew up short. “What shape do you want peace to take between your new friends and that old dragon?”

Kyrie smiled. “Music lessons. But Anan does not want to make peace with Opal before making peace with the Bamboo Stave.”

“Mmm. My bondmate once played this instrument.”

Anan stepped forward, stance aggressive. “Bring them. At once!”

“An impossibility. Fumiko is tree-kin. She is as rooted to her place as her sister. They are the heart of a grove.”

“She could still give lessons,” posed Kyrie. “Michael has an apprentice in America, and all of their lessons are accomplished over great distances.”

Juuyu could see the sense, but technology wasn’t his forte. “Sinder. Let us go where Sinder is.”

Thanks to the tuned crystal in his necklace, Juuyu had a bearing, but he noticed that Kyrie turned in the correct direction a beat before he did. As if he knew where every soul at Stately House could be found. Perhaps he did.

Juuyu asked, “Do you have him marked?”

Kyrie simply nodded.

Amused, he asked, “Does he realize?”

The boy softly asked, “Have you realized?”

It took some time. Indeed, they were crossing the railroad tracks before Juuyu was sure that the three small sigils he’d found were all there were to find. He was impressed. “You are the most subtle person in my acquaintance.”

Ears gone pink, Kyrie asked, “Should I remove them?”

“I could have done so, but I will not. I choose to remain as I am.” He thought he understood, and so he added, “They are the gifts of a friend.”

Anan snapped, “You will not mark him.”

“No. I would not dare to impose upon your claim,” Juuyu assured. “But perhaps a tuned crystal? I have a small bead that would suit you, I think. Deep within the amethyst range, with a subtle sort of authority. You could forge the connection yourself.”

Anan glowered, but Kyrie warmly replied, “I would welcome such a gift from a friend.”

They turned from the road, following tracks in the snow toward one of the sturdy fences along the boundary of a pasture. Randolla Demoiselle and Fairlee Longbrawn perched there, along with a dozen dragon crossers. And Opal the Sage.

Something in the air changed. Charged.

Kyrie took Anan’s hand.

The stormcloud sighed and stood down. Calmed.

A shadow swooped overhead, and laughter rolled, rich and full. Timur had begun training and was clearly enjoying his dragon’s looping flight path. Juuyu thought Sinder looked happy, too. It was a shame to interrupt.

“Sinder.”

The dragon spun his way and slipped gracefully from the sky, only shifting after Timur slid from his back. Hurrying over, Sinder briskly asked, “Need something?”

“A phone.”

“You really should carry your own. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Most people do.”

Randolla and Fairlee brought out theirs, waving them demonstratively.

Timur, who’d been checking his messages, was quickly mobbed by youngsters begging for rides.

“I am aware that there are others whose phones I might have borrowed. However, yours is the most secure.”

“You need me to call someone?”

“Anan wishes to confer with Fumiko.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sinder gave the eldermost storm a considering look, but he brought out his phone, tapped a few times, and held it out. Tones indicated that a call had been initiated.

When Anan made no move to take the phone, Sinder rolled his eyes and offered it to Kyrie instead. “Show him how it’s done?”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Not a problem.” And once the two of them drifted apart, Sinder beckoned to Juuyu. “Want in on this? I’ve mostly figured out how not to drop him, but some kind of saddle or harness would be better than bareback. That’s why Randolla and Fairlee are here. But if Timur wants to start swinging ropes or nets or whatever, it’ll be a pain keeping my wings clear. I’m open to suggestion.”

“Mmm.” Juuyu slipped off his suit coat and began rolling up his sleeves.

Sinder looked relieved. Which was probably optimistic. But gratifying nonetheless.