Mikoto and the Reaver Village (Amaranthine Saga Book 4) by Forthright

Author:Forthright [Forthright]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-09-21T16:00:00+00:00

Mikoto studied the glowing lines that decorated Sinder’s scales. They were a practical necessity, but Mikoto suspected that Timur had taken the time to be pretty about it. Even Kyrie had contributed a couple of sigils. They were small and simple, but they burned even brighter than Timur’s. Was it because he was part dragon? Maybe his soul resonated more closely to Sinder’s, and that made their bonds stronger.

Kinship.

“Will the sigils hold when he takes speaking form?” Mikoto asked.

“Should do.” Timur stepped back to admire his handiwork. “You awake enough to try, Sinder?”

The dragon lifted the lid of one eye.

Mikoto studied his pupil and murmured, “Was my dose too strong?”

“Not even close.” Timur came to stand beside Mikoto. “He’s content.”

They’d eased his pain, bound his wounds, and lavished his scales with fragrant oils, massaging it in until they were all redolent of spikenard. And throughout the whole process, Mikoto had encouraged the rapport that would allow Sinder to take from Mikoto’s strength.

He’d also been keenly aware of Kyrie’s presence—neatly contained, closely warded—and of Ginkgo’s enjoyment. The half-fox sprawled on the grassy bank, hands behind his head, ankles crossed, and a half-smile on his face.

“I wouldn’t budge either, if it weren’t for all those fish we caught.” Ginkgo sat up and rumpled his wild hair, then slapped his own cheeks. “You’re easy to take, Mikoto. Thanks for the pick-me-up.”

“My pleasure.”

Ginkgo moved toward the jumble of kindling he’d collected in a shallow pit near the shore. “I’ll get this going. Make with the shifting, Damsel. There’s no way we’re feeding you in truest form.”

A moment later, Sinder was kneeling in the protective circle of Timur’s arms.

“Steady on,” said Timur.

“I’m feeling much better, thank you. Stop fussing. It’s insulting.”

But the burly battler didn’t leave off until he’d checked every sigil still gleaming faintly against Sinder’s pale skin. Once satisfied, he unceremoniously thrust a too-large hoodie over the dragon’s head and went to help Ginkgo. “Food will do you good. You’re hungry, yes?”

Sinder struggled to pull the length of his hair free of the hoodie and came to sit beside Mikoto. Kyrie hurried forward and quietly set to work braiding. Sinder sat still, head bowed, and let him.

Curiosity brought Noble sniffing, and Mikoto scooped up his puppy.

Timur returned, this time with a squat thermos. “Get this down. It’s a restorative. It’ll clear your head.”

Sinder made no move to take it.

So Timur unscrewed the lid himself, releasing a burst of fragrant steam. Citrus and spice. Mikoto caught another, richer scent and knew that Timur had added a generous splash of liquor. By the look of things, enough eggs had been added to make it more custard than liquid.

“Do you have a spoon?” asked Mikoto.

Kyrie immediately volunteered, “I can feed him.”

Sinder grumbled, “Give a guy a chance. He pollinated me, you know.”

“This will clear your head,” Timur patiently repeated. And to Mikoto, “Make sure he takes every drop.”

With a longsuffering sigh, Sinder took the thermos and took a long swallow. Then another. “Bauble my halls, Timur. You’re better at this stuff than my own mother.

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