Scattering

Sibley had come to Stately House with only the vaguest recollection of Christmas, but Nonny wanted everyone to love it as much as he did. So the house was filled with good smells and snatches of songs and fun plans. But for the Amaranthine—and reavers, too—Dichotomy Day came first. Sibley was having a harder time figuring out why it was such a big deal. Something about the shortest day … or was it the longest night that was important? Either way, he was up before the sun, waiting for the festivities to begin.

There was going to be a wedding in the Song Circle, since Ginkgo and Snow were going to be a family with Pact. And there would be a bonfire on the beach. And they’d fix up the festival booths, some of which had toppled with the waves Dima had pushed ashore. Sibley had overheard Lady talking to Sansa, so he knew that the Christmas festival was also a birthday party for Lilya and Kyrie.

But before all that, they were going to welcome a Scattering.

The grownups kept talking about today being the best, most auspicious—a good word Opal had taught him—day for a bunch of new children to arrive. They weren’t dragon-crossers, and they weren’t escaping from anything bad. But they were meant to be a secret, which is probably why they were supposed to get here before sunrise. Sneaking was easier during this longest, darkest night.

“Will they tease me?” asked Trinity, who liked her new name.

“I won’t let them,” promised Twosies.

“But I have a pot.”

Kyrie quietly pointed out, “Grandfather has a pot.”

Sibley knew for sure that this was a comfort to Trinity. She’d confessed that hers now rested in a safe, secret place that belonged to Argent. She wasn’t allowed to talk about it, but knowing it was there was enough of a clue. Sibley figured that with a little poking around, he’d find it.

Last-minute stuff had kept most of the house up all night. Uncle Jackie had dozed off after midnight, but Papa Anjou had woken him again with coffee and kisses. And Sonnet was relying on Sibley to help make sure all the new kids felt welcome. Because he was in a new position.

Nudging Kyrie, Sibley said, “I’m like you this time.”

“How do you mean?” Kyrie asked, his gaze letting Sibley know that he was really listening.

“When we were new, you welcomed us to your home. Now, I belong here, so I get to welcome new kids to our home. And then it will be theirs, too, and they’ll help us welcome whoever comes next. Like that.”

Kyrie said, “I would be pleased if we can bring all our siblings to live here. Well, all who want to come. There might be some who also found a good place.”

“Good for them.”

“But maybe they could visit with their own families. So we can know each other. Like a reunion.”

Sibley had overheard some things, so he knew what that meant. “It’s a good word. Reunion.”

Just then, Kyrie tilted his head to one side and smiled. “They are here.”

“Did the trees tell you?”

“Yes.”

“Can we go see?”

Kyrie’s smile widened. “Yes. I will tell Lilya. Do you want to bring Etienne?”

That was a great idea, since this was his little brother’s first chance to welcome someone new. He hurried to Papa Anjou, who had Etienne snuggled against his shoulder. Sibley didn’t want to interrupt, since he was talking to Ginkgo, but the half-fox’s ears angled his way.

“What’s up, little bro? Need your papa for something?”

Hearing that said must have pleased Anjou, because he began to purr.

Sibley asked, “Can I bring Etienne to meet the new kids?”

Ginkgo’s ears pricked. “That time already? Let’s all go. Something this momentous deserves a big welcome.”

Anjou snagged a blanket off the back of a rocker and swathed it around Etienne. “I’ll be along. Keep each other warm, hmm?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“I will bring your uncle. Non, both uncles.” He nodded to where Uncle Jackie and Uncle Boniface were helping Sonnet set up long tables. They’d be having something called brunch, which was another good word. Sibley liked that it came from mixing two other words into something new. A breakfast-lunch crosser.

Back outside, he found that Kyrie had waited.

Lilya waved from where she stood hand-in-hand with Dr. Elara. They were together a lot lately, on account of the doctor needing beacon lessons.

Some people were already headed along the road to the gate. Ginkgo walked with Lady. They were in charge since Argent was away, doing Dichotomy Day things on television. He was standing in for someone Sibley had only heard about. People mostly called him Sensei, except for Rhomiko. They called Sensei theirs.

Anan squatted in order to scoop them up and stride after the rest.

Sibley said, “This is Etienne. He only knows French.”

To his utter amazement, Anan rumbled a string of foreign words to the little boy, who wriggled up in order to kiss the thunderstorm’s cheek.

While Etienne snuggled back down into his blanket, Sibley asked, “What did you say?”

Anan only grunted.

Kyrie, who knew lots of French words, probably thanks to Uncle Jackie, answered instead. “Anan said that Etienne is as gentle as a summer breeze and just as welcome.”

“Good for you.” Sibley ruffled his little brother’s hair, then searched Anan’s face. “Guess that means you figured it out?”

His eldermost brother frowned.

Kyrie asked, “What do you mean, Sibley?”

“Nuh-uh. I’m not saying anything else. It’d spoil Ginkgo’s surprise.”

All at once, Anan took to running, and Kyrie’s laughter trilled. Then came a sound almost like thunder. Sibley couldn’t place it, but then he saw the horses. They were louder than a hundred Nonnys, their big hooves thudding the ground as they came. One of the horses carried two riders, and Kyrie sounded real glad when he called, “Mikoto!”

But that was nothing to Anan’s shout. “Tzefira!”

Kyrie guessed this was the first time that Anan had left his side since his descent. After weeks of constant looming, the storm’s sudden absence was jarring. Anan might not speak much, but his presence was commanding enough that Kyrie was always being buffeted.

He shyly admitted, “This is a lonesome sort of feeling.”

Dima was in high dudgeon. “Do not call him back! That’s Tzefira he’s holding!”

Anan had all but dropped his passengers in a snowbank in order to reach the fourth member of the Changing Winds. Mikoto had helped her slide from their horse’s back, straight into Anan’s waiting arms. He hadn’t exactly run away with her, but they were far enough away—on the edge of the woods—that Kyrie couldn’t overhear anything. In fact, he was quite sure that the little winds who usually carried whispers to him were keeping things from him instead. Tzefira may have descended in order to become Mikoto Reaver’s bride, but she hadn’t forgotten how to shepherd winds.

“Anan dotes on her,”Dima said. “It was cruel to part them.”

“He loves her?” Kyrie asked, worried that Anan might unleash a storm on Tzefira’s husband.

“Like a daughter,”boasted Dima. “She’s the newest of us. And the sweetest.”

“Tzefira descended?”

That was Haizea’s voice, and Kyrie’s heart leapt. He said, “Yes. Tzefira found someone with a noble heart. He called out to her, and she descended. I was there. It was a happy day.”

“She chose a human?”Dima was incredulous.

“Yes, she did. He is a good man. A distant cousin of mine.” With a small smile, he added, “We are related because we have the same tree somewhere in our lineage—Hajime.”

Haizea murmured, “Trees and dragons. An unusual combination.”

“For me, it is a tree, a dragon, and a star.” Kyrie glanced at his palms. “And I am favored by winds.”

“Kept by a storm,”Dima countered. “Anan dotes on you now.”

“Is that what this is?” Kyrie asked doubtfully.

“Mmm. Perhaps not,”admitted Dima.

“Not,”echoed Haizea.

“I wish Bethiel was here. He would see the truth and say it.”

Haizea softly said, “I … I also wish Bethiel was here.”

Dima laughed darkly. “Maker mark and maker move.”

It sounded like a challenge.

Kyrie was disappointed when Haizea lapsed again into silence. But maybe he should be grateful that she’d decided to speak at all. Surely that was a good sign.

Across the way, Sibley was proving to be much more outgoing that Kyrie had ever been. He was right in the middle of a group of newcomers, introducing Etienne and promising everyone that they’d found a good place. As far as Kyrie could tell, the tree-kin were all humans. And even though they’d brought friends—a small herd of Alpenglows—they were looking rather nervous.

But then Ginkgo waded in, wrapping his arms around Sibley from behind and adding his own greeting. Then Snow was there, and everyone from Wardenclave knew her, which seemed to chase away any lingering worries. Which was when Gilen announced that there was a basket of kittens in the kitchen, and Sonnet was calling everyone to come in out of the cold.

Things were going well, but something niggled for Kyrie’s attention, so he stayed where he was, letting people’s notice of him fade. What was this feeling? Why was it so worrisome? He pivoted, senses straining, hoping for a helpful gust. But … no. Stepping lightly through the snow, he pressed his hand to the trunk of one of his trees.

An instant later, something snapped, warped, and slipped off-key.

Heart racing, Kyrie looked to see who was closest. Boon stood a little way off with some of his team members—Moon, Hallow, Colt, and Juuyu. Before Kyrie could take a single step in their direction, Sibley was at his side. Somehow, in the middle of everything, his brother had noticed.

“You feel it, too?” Kyrie asked.

“I feel you. Something wrong?”

“You noticed me?”

“Well, yeah. We’re brothers, aren’t we?”

Maybe so, but Kyrie doubted that many brothers were as attuned to one another as Sibley was to him. It was almost like resonance, and Kyrie wanted to both explore it … and tune it. So they could use it. But not just now. “Yes, something is wrong. Take Etienne inside where he will be safe. And … do me a favor? Quietly.”

Sibley’s gaze darted, and he turned his body slightly, shielding Etienne. “Anything.”

“Tell Fend.”

“Timur’s panther?”

“Yes.” Kyrie decided it would be best if his brother knew this much. “When things happen, especially when Dad is away, always tell Fend. Quietly.”

Sibley lowered his voice. “Why him? What’s a cat gonna be able to do?”

“I could not say. But I made a promise. Help me keep it?”

“I can do that.” And Sibley sprinted away.

Only after the kitchen door shut behind them did Kyrie turn back toward the elite taskforce. Raising his hand in a tracker’s signal that begged for help, Kyrie crisply called, “Boon!”

The wolf moved fast.

Almost as fast as Anan.

“Easy there,” Boon drawled, hands upraised. “Your boy wanted a word.”

“He is alarmed.”

“I picked up on that, too. Well, kid?”

Kyrie had to step around the eldermost storm. “Boon, somebody is testing the boundaries. A wardstone is missing.”

“Bearing?”

Kyrie pointed.

“On it.”