World Without End

Argent supposed he was growing accustomed to having Anjou around. Even though it was the wee hours, his gentleman’s gentleman’s gentleman smoothly escorted Opal out so Argent could have a private word.

Sinder watched them go with a forlorn expression, then stood with eyes fixed on the carpet, as if contemplating further prostration.

Giving himself time to process this new and unanticipated information, Argent leafed through the papers again. Sinder hadn’t tried to hide the enormity of his neglect. Timestamped entries proved just how many years had been lost simply because the information had been filed away.

Kept from him.

But Argent was impressed. With his current resources, he wouldn’t have been able to locate any of these children. Without Sinder, they would have remained lost.

Sinder’s fact-finding had been a personal project, done entirely out of curiosity. A sideline to the greater problem, which had been locating the Rogue. Which is why, in the months soon after Kyrie’s birth, several more siblings had been located. Other survivors. Orphans without the protection of a clan.

Kyrie had older siblings. A few, anyhow. Assuming they still survived.

It bothered Argent a great deal that the addresses listed were for hospitals, laboratories, and what he suspected were private research facilities. On the bright side, all of them were in the public sector. Breaking in would be so much simpler than locating an uncharted island.

Argent raised his gaze to a fidgeting Sinder. The level of regret radiating from the young dragon was heartening. He’d been mingling with the children long enough to understand what his silence had meant. But Argent was detecting traces of fear, and those needed banishing.

“Well done.”

Sinder lifted a startled gaze.

“This information is invaluable. You anticipated my need, and I choose to be grateful.”

The dragon winced. “Look, I know I should have–”

Argent held up a hand to forestall any further apologies. “Is this list exhaustive?”

“Not sure. The next step will be to check my findings against Linlu Dimityblest’s records. There could be some overlap. Especially if the Hightips were stashing kids in other places.”

“Like Inti.”

“He sets a precedent, yeah. And expands the search parameters. Any crosser that’s been culled.” He took a step forward and promised, “I can find them. Your kids. I’ll look until they’re all found.”

“And then what?”

Sinder blinked. “This time, we go get them.”

“Yes, we will.” Argent lifted his brows. “You are used to a certain amount of action.”

“Well, sure. All part of the job. Though I’m not sure I have a job anymore. Hisoka’s retirement or abdication or whatever means he doesn’t need a cortege.”

“True. How fortuitous that I am in the process of assembling one.”

“No kidding?” Sinder brightened. “I don’t like to brag, but I know these five other guys. All kinds of elite. Stellar teamwork. Loads of experience. If you’re hiring, I could put them in touch.”

“That would be a good start.”

“Thinking of expanding membership?”

“I am. Some of you have families now. More members in the rotation will mean less time away from bondmates and young. And in your case, the dragon-crossers you will be mentoring alongside Opal.”

“Now that I have a home, I won’t complain if I get to spend time here.”

“Are you aware that Fend made your joining my cortege a condition of his acceptance?”

“That little shit. Wait. Are you airing a grievance? You don’t actually want me?”

“Not so. Jacques recommended you a few years ago, so you have been under consideration all along. I actually suspect that Fend used the pretense of leverage to alert me to the sudden availability of your team. An effective maneuver. He excels at manipulation.”

“You’re pretty roundabout yourself.” Sinder hesitated, then asked, “Am I in, then?”

“You are in.” Argent gestured to Sinder’s partial transformation. “Also, thank you for aligning yourself with my son. He has been unusually self-conscious.”

“They take some getting used to. Balance and whatnot.” Wings with an icy iridescence swept outward in a partial display, but Sinder twitched them back into neat folds along his back. “It’s no big deal. Well, it is kind of a mess for clothes, but Jacques stepped in. Anjou had this slinky getup with an open back. Timur likes it. The wings, I mean, not the mantraps. Can’t keep his hands off them, which is … probably way more than I needed to say. There’s nothing weird about it. Just oiling and stretching and … well, shit. Jacques-ish-ness really is catching.”

“You can assume that anything you say in here is taken in confidence.”

“Thanks for that.” With a pained expression, Sinder said, “Timur and me. I swear it’s not a romantic thing.”

“Timur is a member of the Order of Spomenka. I would be shocked if he did not look after the needs of his dragon.”

“He’s the best. Him and Fend both. Though that’s not his name. Well, it won’t be. Assuming he doesn’t shut me down again. But if he’s pleased, we’ll have our bond.”

Argent wondered if Hisoka had ever tried to curb Sinder’s tongue. “Fend wanted a bond with you?”

“He’s been really pushy about it, so yeah. Safe to say he wants it. Or me.” Sinder went a little pink. “I keep asking, ‘why me?’”

“Does it matter? You do not have to understand why you are happy to know you are happy.”

Sinder snorted. “Juuyu spouts crap when he’s embarrassed, too.”

Argent decided he must like being handled with a certain level of irreverence.

His cortege was shaping up nicely.

Timur sat on the low stone wall that safeguarded the drop-off to the sea, even this far along the coast from Stately House. Kicking snow from his boots, he pulled the edges of his cloak around the heavy crystal strapped to his chest. “Do you even feel the cold?” he asked the rock imp.

To his delight, there was a gurgling sort of chuckle.

Sinder was right. Their rock imp liked to chat.

“It was too cold for Gregor, but you’re managing well enough, hmm?”

They’d been tromping through the forest surrounding Stately House from sun-up to mid-past, and he was a necessary party member. Because Kyrie was to have his own little house. But one of the conditions that Argent had set was that the boy have good neighbors. More specifically, it had to be someone Fend would approve.

Fend had immediately put forward their names.

Who better to keep an eye on Argent’s son than Argent’s second-in-command, a Spomenka with parental prowess, and the dragon who’d helped Kyrie gain the sky? Brains, brawn, and beauty.

Decision made.

But vague plans weren’t Fend’s way, and Kyrie was similarly eager to secure his future. So Kyrie, Ever, Lilya, Fend, and Ginkgo were leading the hunt, with Anan trailing after. And for reasons that weren’t entirely clear, both Anjou and Boniface had joined the party. Timur was mostly along for the ride. They’d already decided to build, but he didn’t really care where.

Boniface trudged in Timur’s direction. His slim figure was slightly overbalanced by the chrysalis he carried. As the man came closer, Timur couldn’t help but notice that the Smythe brothers’ crystal had been swaddled in cashmere. Only the very top had been left exposed, as if to allow the rock imp to enjoy the scenery.

“Lord, I hope they make up their mind soon. Why did it have to be today? Auspicious or not, it’s a bitter New Year’s Eve.”

“The air has teeth, and it’s not afraid to bite.” It was an old dragon saying, and it definitely applied. “I can understand Kyrie’s excitement.”

“Can’t be helped.” Boniface leaned against the wall and hugged his burden. With a nod to Timur’s, he blandly asked, “Do you suppose this makes us ‘dad friends’?”

“That sounds about right.” And because he wasn’t sure if Boniface knew him as anything other than the chauffeur’s son, he offered, “I’m Timur, but the way.”

“Well aware. Suuzu brought me up to speed as far as members of the household and enclave are concerned. I haven’t quite sorted out all the wolves, though. The names are tricky. But Boon offered to introduce me to everyone. Another day. When it’s less in the way of frigid.”

Timur pushed aside his cloak to access the thermos that was slung with his other gear. The action exposed the heavy blade belted at his waist, and he saw Boniface eyeing it warily.

“Expecting trouble from some quarter?”

“I’m a battler. We believe in preparedness.” He uncapped the thermos and passed it along.

Boniface sniffed rising steam. “Tea?”

“My own blend. I’m also a healer.”

“Doubly reassuring.” Boniface sipped, hummed his appreciation, then took a bigger swallow. He lapsed into silence, gazing around the snowy forest with a serene expression. “A healer. That explains why Fend is insisting on space for an herb garden.”

“Good of him.”

Boniface hummed. “And Kyrie wants someplace near the sea. For Sinder’s sake.”

“They really are putting a lot of thought into this.”

“And you’re not?”

“I’ll be happy if they’re happy.”

“You’re set then.” Boniface stared into the steam still rising from the thermos.

In that moment, Timur thought the man looked terribly lonesome. On impulse, he said, “If you like, after this, why not come by my room. We’ll stoke the fires and see you warmed. And I can give you a packet of that tea.”

“Are you just going to ask for embarrassing stories about Jackie?”

“Only if they help us get to know you better.” Timur added, “We’re dad friends, aren’t we?”

That earned him a rueful smile. “And future neighbors. Probably.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“Mmm. I’ve asked Kyrie to make allowances for … well.” And completely changing tacks, Boniface announced, “I turned forty this past year. Bloody hell, that sounds older than it feels.”

“You’re about Papka’s age, then.”

The smaller man drew himself up. “That can’t be right. I’m not old enough to be your father.”

“I meant … relative age.” Timur looked off in the direction of the house, then shrugged. “Papka stopped getting older about a decade ago.”

“Ah.” And after a lengthy pause, Boniface repeated, “Ah. That sort of thing will happen when you take up with the imps and clans.”

Timur dared to ask, “Are you thinking of your brother?”

That earned him a sharp look. “No. My world doesn’t revolve around Jackie. But … lord. I suppose I’ll never get away from comparisons. First of Smythes? If anyone cared to notice, I have the years.”

Timur didn’t know what to say. He was Jacques’ friend. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t befriend Boniface. They were both good men. And they might be neighbors, though Timur had gotten the vague idea that Boniface’s job involved a lot of travel.

“Forever forty,” Boniface murmured. “I suppose this is meant to be the prime of life.”

“Do you mean Papka?”

“What? No. I mean me.” Boniface gestured with one hand, still hugging the chrysalis with the other. “There’s the other route, you know. Dr. Naoki told me about his way. Is it meant to be a secret? I keep running up against them.”

“Dr. Noaki. I did meet him briefly. He’s Tsumiko’s and Akira’s father.”

“That’s the chap. Doesn’t look a day over … well, he’s thirty-something, isn’t he? Started earlier. Can’t be helped. But anyway, years plus mobility would be a useful combination.”

“You’re thinking of taking in a golden seed?”

“Do not tell Argent bloody Lord Mettlebright. He’s got Jackie on a short leash, but I have plans.” His gaze was fierce. “I’m confiding in you. Because we’re dad friends. And future neighbors. And … mon dieu, I’ll probably need help. But I won’t ask Jackie. None of his bloody business. And you seem a good sort. Can I rely upon you?”

“You need me?”

“Well, I need somebody. I’m on my own in all this.”

That put Timur in familiar territory. “In some ways, I’m a single father. Taking sole responsibility for a child is life-changing. Though I’m not alone, and you won’t be either. Still, you’re facing a big decision. Take your time.”

“Bit late for that.” Boniface raised the thermos in a toast. “Here’s to the queerest New Year’s resolution ever made in the history of me.”

“It’s done?”

“I spoke at length to Dr. Naoki, who chose one of his experimentals. Poor thing can’t simply be planted. Has to have a surrogate.” Boniface patted his rock imp, who’d begun softly crooning. “Downed my seed on the sly. Early this morning, with cranberry juice. Hajime held my hand. Gave his blessing.”

“You’re a brave man, Boniface. My invitation stands. Come back with me. Fend will be delighted to help you keep your secret. Sinder and I can set up some wards. For secrecy. For safety. We can support you. You won’t be alone.”

“Knew you were a good sort.”

Timur clapped his shoulder and said, “Likewise.”

They made an evening of it.

Upon hearing Boniface’s well-reasoned yet rebellious decision to keep his choice a secret, Fend fixed Timur with a look of pure adoration. Like he’d brought home a particularly nice treat. After that, Timur was once again along for the ride, because Sinder excelled at drawing people out, and ever since finding speaking form, Fend had been greedy for conversation.

Timur pottered in the background, bringing snacks and brewing tea. He saw to Gregor’s bath and tucked him in with Lilya and Vanya. When he returned to his room, the topic had turned to Boniface’s courses. He was being mentored on the job by the members of Suuzu’s cortege, but he wasn’t opposed to a bit of private tutoring.

Fend offered to draw up a syllabus.

Sinder meddled with Boniface’s phone, adding all their contact information.

And Timur noted with appreciation that the man had finally relaxed. Boniface’s gracious manners had slipped, and it was easier to see how greedy he was for the company of peers.

“You should stay the night,” Timur said. He indicated the bed. “Plenty of room.”

“That’s very generous, I’m sure.” Boniface looked as if he wanted to accept.

“You should stay,” Sinder echoed, adding a touch of sway.

Timur probably should have called him out, but Boniface looked so relieved. “If you’re sure?”

Fend said, “Rest here, among friends. Deepen the bonds of trust.”

“Right,” said Boniface. “I didn’t fancy being alone. Usually, there’s Sylphon, you see. Funny how you get used to company …?”

Fend accompanied the man to the onsen, and Sinder checked with Dr. Naoki, who confirmed that a small dose of huddlebud wouldn’t go amiss. Within the hour, Boniface was clean and warm and well-warded. And sound asleep.

Timur looked on with satisfaction. More than that, he was happy.

“You like having a patient,” Sinder accused.

“I like having a dad friend.” Timur rested his chin on his palm and considered the man who’d taken refuge with them. “I’m glad he trusted us.”

“He has good instincts.” Fend warned, “His ambitions may mean we’ll foster his child.”

Timur wasn’t so sure. Still, he said, “Make sure our little house isn’t too small, hmm?”

“I can do that.”

Fend was nice enough to let Timur think he was in charge once in a while. Probably because they both knew otherwise. And they’d always found the arrangement agreeable. Teamwork. Alliance. It was good for battle, but it was equally good for creating a sheltering space. Timur reflected that he really had taken after Mum, who took great pride in defending her home. And the many people who needed its haven.

While Timur was woolgathering, Sinder dropped to a perch on the arm of his chair. He glanced up, wondering at the impressions he was catching. Sinder was in a simmer of anticipation.

“Two things, okay?” Sinder heaved a breath and announced, “He likes it. So we’ll have to get used to calling Fend by his new name.”

Timur beckoned to his partner, who came to perch on the other arm of his chair. His eyes were bright with the import of their news.

“So you’ve come to terms?” Timur asked. “Forged a bond?”

Sinder simply nodded.

Fend began to purr.

Wrapping his arms around both their waists, Timur said, “Well? Which of you is going to tell me?”

His dragon turned his hands palm up and said, “The fathers are strong. Seriously. Both of you have scary-strong dads. And since Fend is a tribute to his sire, I thought he might want to carry forward Deece’s name. In part.”

Shifting into tones that were both formal and laced with sway, Sinder continued. “Smallest of your litter, you quickly proved your strength. You earned admiration and your first name. Able to fend for yourself, Deece Evernhold named you Fend.

“Since then, you pacted with a reaver, you found speaking form, and you fended for everyone at Stately House. Argent Mettlebright may have handed down your attainment, but you earned it. By your wits and by your cunning.

“You saved my life, you entrusted your partner to me, and you want the bond a name bestows. And so we’ll call you Evern. And hold you close.”

The feline blinked placidly. “Evern Michaelson. Because I belong to both of you.”

Timur reached up to tug his ear. “Is good, yes?”

“Quite satisfactory. But that’s only the first thing. Go on, lovely one. Time for the rest.”

Sinder leaned away to collect it, then dropped a small stack of folders onto Timur’s lap. “Merry Christmas. Belatedly. From us. As promised.”

Evern nuzzled Timur’s cheek before kissing it. “We’ve gone past midnight, so we’ll call this Happy New Year. Don’t be shy, Papka. Have a look. You did well.”

He withdrew his arms from around them, touched the stack. Straightened it. Stalled.

“I left out most of their personal information. There’s nothing about their parents or where they were born. If they want to talk to you about home, that’s up to them.” Sinder dropped to the floor, kneeling in order to look up into Timur’s face. “This is stuff I thought you’d care about. Some basics. Names, birthdays, early aptitude scores.”

Evern interjected, “But there’s so much more. He’s included nicknames, favorite colors, family pets, and in several cases, weapon of choice.”

“Three of them come from lines with longstanding arrangements with Kith, not unlike your mother. No felines though.” Sinder went right on, even though Timur’s vision kept blurring. “One young lady has grown up with wolf Kith in the house. Her family was keen on the fact that we have a pack here. I think that swayed them even more than the prestige of our staff.”

Timur started. “You spoke to their parents?”

“Not personally, no. Randolla and a few of his lot volunteered to do a bit of touring, as a favor to Argent. They’re not official heralds, but they pulled this off like pros. As residents, they were able to talk up the enclave. One unexpected upshot was a couple of applications for colonization. It’ll make things easier on the kids if some of their people come along. We’ll have to add Russin to our language lessons.”

“The battle has turned,” said Evern, all superiority. “Those who wanted to take from you, to gain the advantages of pedigree and prestige? They’ve surrendered. Your children are ours.”

“Hey, it’s not like that,” grumbled Sinder. “Don’t talk about these kids’ folks like they’re the enemy. Sure, reavers who add to their families by arrangement are hoping for improved rank, but they don’t do it for themselves. It’s so the next generation will have more options. Every family Randolla spoke to? They were thrilled that their little phenoms are going to get the best possible training.”

Timur needed some time to think that through. Later. So he asked, “They’re all coming?”

“Every one of them.” Evern tapped the folders. “Are you pleased with us?”

“I will be,” he promised. “At the moment, I’m too stunned to be anything else.”

“There are pictures,” prompted Evern. “Have a peek at the future.”

Timur carefully flipped open the topmost folder and stared. “She looks just like Lilya.”

“She does,” agreed Sinder.

That’s how it went as he quietly studied the photos.

“He has Papka’s green eyes.”

“And your smile.”

“She has a falcon?”

“She and that Kith have been inseparable since birth.”

All twenty-four of the children were between the ages of five and eight. So young to be leaving their mothers, but that was the way of things with reavers. Especially those with dynasty-class pedigrees.

Opening the next file, Timur’s voice wobbled a little. “He looks just like me, doesn’t he?”

“That one? Sure,” said Sinder. “If you were more prone to glaring.”

“Is he unhappy?”

“With you? Hardly. Randolla made a point of mentioning that he was the first to accept.” Sinder scooted away just long enough to grab the tissue box. “Gather your courage, battler. Ready or not, your wee ickle dragon-slayers will be here by Dichotomy Day next. At midsummer.”

“Oh, we’ll be ready.” Evern licked away some of Timur’s tears. “The fathers are strong, etcetera, etcetera. And we are far from weak.”

“Here you are,” grumbled Argent.

Tsumiko gently pointed out, “You always know where I am.”

“Ah, but this is not where you usually are.” Arms slipped around her from behind as Argent joined her in contemplating the room Kyrie had finished vacating. It was empty of all but echoes.

She leaned back into Argent, grateful for his support.

“Was I wrong to send him from this place?” he asked.

“No. He was happy to go.”

Argent swathed her in the silver softness of his tails, and his hands settled at her waist.

She smiled to herself and pulled them further forward, to rest over her stomach.

Argent huffed. “You spoke with Bethiel for quite some time. Perchance, did the angel have any annunciations for my lady?”

“His message was more along the lines of ‘well done, good and faithful,” quickly followed by ‘keep up the good work.’ Which doesn’t sound the least bit angelic, but it’s good that he’s not lofty or formal. People will quickly come to love and trust him.”

“Bethiel will undoubtedly become what Twineshaft was. The Council’s guiding star. Our voice.” Argent pulled her closer. “Are you pretending not to understand why I sent Kyrie away?”

Since his return from this last rescue mission, Argent had been especially … attentive. But the natural consequences of his ardor hadn’t occurred to her. Until Rhomiko had tugged her arm through theirs and escorted her to Dr. Elara.

After receiving positive test results, Tsumiko hadn’t known quite how to break the news to Argent. Yet here he clung, radiating contrition. She almost laughed. “So you knew.”

He hummed an affirmative and kissed her jaw. An apology. And something more.

“Why are you embarrassed, of all things?” She turned her head to look up at him.

“Because I have been so careful. Up until now. And I do not like to think of the risks.”

“It’ll be all right.”

“How do you know? Crosser births are difficult enough, but for a beacon …?”

“O, ye of little faith. I’ll be fine.” Tsumiko pivoted and pulled Argent down for a light kiss. “Keep up the good work. Wouldn’t you say that implies many long years in which to prosper?”

“May it be unto me—and thee—as you say.”

She laughed.

Argent smiled in a pleased way. His tails took on a much calmer sway. And Tsumiko reflected that this little room wasn’t truly empty.

It was ready.

Ready for a future that would be built alongside living stone.

Ready for peaceful days under the shelter of generous trees.

Ready for the songs of ancients and eldermost and oracles and stars.

Ready to be filled with all the things that made Stately House a home.

And she would be ready, too.

“You shine,” Argent declared, his voice low with reverence. “Like Soriel of the Dawning, like Auriel of the Golden Seed. Like every tale of the Kindred, the Unbroken, and the Blessed, my lady shines.”

Her bondmate rarely spoke of his feelings. Even this reprise of an old confession was oblique in the extreme. But Tsumiko knew that his words were heartfelt, and that for Argent, they amounted to a prayer of thanks. For her, certainly. But also for the future they were building, little by little, life by life, year upon year, together. Onward and evermore, world without end.

And so she kissed his smile and said, “Amen.”

THE END