Threat Potential

Now that his message was delivered, Sibley kinda figured that while he wasn’t invited-invited to catch back up to his brothers, Ginkgo and Kyrie and Anan hadn’t told him not to follow. So he asked Hajime to get him close, and then he ran for it. Keeping up after that wasn’t easy, since Ginkgo had ditched his fancy slippers and was making these low, long leaps on the straightaways.

Actually, that was a really good way to move.

Sibley needed most of the run to the boundary to get used to the springing gait, but he loved the feeling. Almost like flying. He’d keep practicing, if only because it was so much fun. Well, it was fun if you didn’t mess up and jump into a tree.

Yeah. He was figuring it out.

Ginkgo didn’t go straight to the gate where wolves were always on guard. Maybe because it was supposed to be locked up tight. Barriers and stuff. Sibley had been sneaking past them for ages, so he knew. The ones Papka set up were much gentler than the ones he’d faced at the lab.

The sweet-natured stones were more worried about keeping bad people out than in trying to cage kids. Ginkgo walked right up to one and pressed his palm to the invisible wall. But before he stole through, he half-turned and asked, “Coming, little bro?”

“Yep.” And hurrying to Ginkgo’s side, Sibley muttered, “How come you always know where I am?”

“I’d love to say it’s brotherly intuition … with a side of experience. I mean, I’ve had Kyrie following me since he could scootch. But honestly? Dad gets the credit. He marked you. All of us are tagged. It’s just one of the little ways he shows he cares.”

“Wouldn’t it be simpler to just say so?”

“Maybe for someone like me. But Dad? He’s not the kind of person who comes out and says he loves you. He’s sneaky about it. Y’know?”

“Guess so.” Sibley was feeling generous. “He’s allowed to be shy.”

Ginkgo looked him up and down. “You’ve got quite the collection going. Kyrie. Anjou. Deece. Timur. Boon. Catalan. Opal. And if I’m not mistaken, this smudge of shine is from Anan.”

“He’s my eldermost brother,” Sibley explained.

“Then you’ve got him looking out for you, too. That’s good. Unless it bothers you …?” Ginkgo held out a hand, then pulled Sibley through a slender gap he made in the barrier. “It’s because we care.”

“I like it.” Sibley kept hold of Gingko’s hand since it was safe now. “I like it even better’n compliments.”

“Glad to hear it. Now stay sharp. We’re past the barrier, and I don’t know what we’ll find, so use all your camouflage skills, and I’ll toss out some simple illusions. I need to get to Kyrie before anything unexpected happens.”

“That way, then.” Sibley pointed. “He’s not far.”

Silver fox ears flicked. “I know. How’d you know.”

“Anan. Probably. It’s not Haizea, since she’s not with him anymore, but could be it’s that typhoon. Dima. Both her and Anan are sorta noisy. But not in a sound way.” Sibley knew he wasn’t making much sense. “I don’t know a word to explain it.”

“Mmm … resonance. I think you’re catching resonance.”

Sibley had been hearing that word a lot lately. “Like with the rock babies?”

“Sure. Rock imps and remnant stones seem to have that in common. But some people are sensitive to winds or sigilcraft or soul-sense.”

“So resonance is another word for love?”

“Usually, I think of it as affinity. But that’s just a fancy way of saying you get along with something. That friendliness could be a kind of love.” Ginkgo stopped walking. “Sometimes, resonance is kinship, though. Do you know if you resonate with the dragon who sired you? Not just your siblings?”

“Never met him.”

Ginkgo waved at the woods around them. “He could be here. Could you tell?”

Sibley gave the idea a chance, peering around. “If I can tell, then he’s not close.”

“Good enough for me.” They walked on, but much slower. “About Haizea. When did Kyrie lose her?”

“She’s not lost. Anan put her in the wine cellar. On account of Andor’s star.”

“Most people don’t know about Eri.”

“I know, and I know you know. It was the best we could do. Eri makes her feel safe.”

“Because they’re both imps?”

“Could be. Is that resonance?”

“Shared experiences can be a kind of kinship.”

“Like being in cages.”

“Yeah, you kids have that in common. But in Haizea’s case, it was a bottle. And then a boy.”

Sibley wondered if that was why he could resonate with the eldermost storms. Because of the cages and the bottles. And because that meant they all knew how good it was, being here with Kyrie instead.

They circled a thicket and found Kyrie in a small meadow on the other side. He sat cross-legged in the snow, all his attention fixed on the two crystals in his hands. Anan loomed over him, scowl firmly in place, standing guard.

“Hey, little bro.” Ginkgo crouched in front of Kyrie. “You’re on the wrong side of our barrier.”

“I am outside,” Kyrie acknowledged. “But that does not make this meadow wrong.”

“Don’t quibble terms.”

“I think I did the right thing.” Gaze solemn, he lifted two crystals. “When this wardstone broke, its song changed. It split. Their lyrics are distinct, and they are lovely. But the change left them uneasy. I am making friends.”

“Sounds like they’ve been through a lot, and I’m in favor of being friendly. But do it in a safer place.”

“The Rogue is not nearby.”

“How can you be sure?” asked Ginkgo.

Kyrie was calm and confident. “I knew Sibley was nearby.”

“That’s resonance,” said Sibley. “Like Uncle Jackie and Uncle Boniface.”

“Brotherhood is a strong bond.” Kyrie offered him one half of the split stone.

Sibley knelt next to him. “What happened?”

“Ignorance. Impatience. Violence.” Kyrie sought Ginkgo’s gaze before saying, “The Rogue is not nearby now. But I think he was … and that he did this.”

Their big brother swore under his breath, messed up his hair, then finally announced, “If Anan wasn’t with you, I wouldn’t be half so calm right now. Do you understand how dangerous your sire is? That he’d hurt you without a second thought.”

“Yes, but … oh.” Kyrie’s gaze turned inward, and he wasn’t talking to them anymore. “Yes, that is how it is. Should I have? The risk is greater here, but I have taken care. Yes, there is a dragon. Yes, he is a threat to all of us. Sibley, too. Oh? Oooh. I wonder if he w–”

It was a good thing that Sibley was already seated on the ground, because the sudden pressure of Dima’s descent couldn’t knock him far. As it was, he was having trouble catching his breath. And making sense of words. There was snow in his face and the roar of too much sound.

But then Kyrie was pressing a hand to his forehead, and someone else tugged off Sibley’s boot and sock and slapped the bottom of his foot. After that, the storm eased off. Dima wasn’t gone, but she’d been muffled enough that he could hear Ginkgo’s grumbling and the steady stream of Kyrie’s calm.

“It is all right, Sibley. Ginkgo and I added to your protections. Do not be afraid. Dima only needs a moment to figure out how to hold a smaller shape. She is as surprised as we are that she towers. She did not mean to frighten you.”

“Not scared,” Sibley countered. “The air got heavy. Is it safe?”

“Wait a moment.” Kyrie’s head was turned to one side, and he was looking at Sibley out of the very corner of his eye. “It will be better once she is closer to Anan’s size. Then he can loan her his shirt.”

“Been doing a lot of that today.” Sibley propped his chin on folded hands and kicked his feet. “That’s all of them, then. Your winds.”

“Yes. But I do not think they are all mine.” Kyrie was smiling. “Dima’s choice is an interesting surprise.”

Sibley didn’t see why. “I thought this was always the plan. Descend and pick a weapon, yeah?”

His brother turned his way, his gaze soft with happiness. “Dima did not descend so that she could take up the Chrysanthemum Blaze, although I do think it will suit her. She descended for a boy. For you.”