“Hey.” Oilcan pulled the boy aside. “Are you okay?”
And just like that, Blue Sky wasn’t a confident seventeen-year-old but a rattled ten-year-old. He wrapped his arms around Oilcan and buried his face into Oilcan’s side. It was always so odd when something like this served as a reminder that Blue Sky wasn’t just short for his age, but actually stuck young. Oilcan and Tinker had moved forward, grown up, and somehow Blue Sky had ended up left behind.
“What’s wrong?” Oilcan asked quietly in English.
Blue Sky mumbled something into Oilcan’s shirt; the only words that Oilcan could pick out were “hurt” and “so bad.” The boy had seen Rustle’s massive bruises, the fresh ragged wounds, and the ink of all the healing spells needed to save Rustle’s life. What could Oilcan say? “It’s okay” was so inadequate, especially with the knowledge that the oni were still out there, fully capable of doing it to someone else.
“I know,” Oilcan said finally.
To be brutally honest with himself, he’d been grief stricken at first when Tinker had been transformed into an elf and then whisked away to Aum Reanu. What made it bearable was seeing how much she loved her new family and how much they loved her. He constantly searched for ways to be okay with the sudden turn of events. He reminded himself that sooner or later she would have married, that at least she hadn’t gone to Earth and been a full universe away, that he didn’t have to worry that if something happened to him, she’d be left alone in Pittsburgh. And now he could add that he was glad Tinker would be there for Blue all the years it took for the half-elf to grow up.
“Is that everything?” Tooloo asked at the overflowing checkout counter.
Baby Duck squeezed in between Cattail Reeds and Fields of Barley and held out six baby chicks. “Quiee.”
There were exclamations of delight from all the kids, and each picked up a chick to cuddle. He knew, though, that Tooloo never sold live chickens in the store and all her eggs were refrigerated for hours. Baby Duck must have gone out the back and raided Tooloo’s chicken coop.
“Oh, Baby Duck.” He didn’t have a heart to tell her no without even asking Tooloo. “Can we have the chicks, too, please?”
The old half-elf pressed her lips into a tight line, but after a moment, said, “Oh, my poor little wood sprite, you don’t stand a chance.”
13: KNOCK KNOCK OPEN THE BOX
Windwolf found Tinker deep in mad-scientist mode in Poppymeadow’s woodshed. He hadn’t come home the night before. She distracted herself from his absence by blowing up wood and telling herself someone would come tell her if something horrible had happened to him. Wraith Arrow — if he were still alive — which would be doubtful. Maynard. True Flame. The Wyverns. Chloe Polanski. Someone!
She worked through all of Poppymeadow’s spare lumber and had the staff raid the neighboring enclaves for more. She was starting to think she would need to decimate Pittsburgh’s entire supply of ironwood, when he appeared.
“Finally!” She launched herself into his arms. He swept her up off her feet. He smelled of blood and smoke and mud. He hugged her so tight she realized that he had had his own fears.
“We really need to work on communication,” Tinker said.
“Yes.” Windwolf laughed tiredly. He slid up her safety goggles and kissed her. “The marines, once they were able to fight through the oni to my side, told me of your adventure. You impressed them.”
She blushed, feeling like a kid again, caught raiding the dynamite locker. “You’re not upset with me?”
“You are my domi, Beloved. It means we will be together, forever, but it also means that in times like these, you must act for me. I cannot have one without the other, and in truth, I would not want it any other way. I love your courage and your ability to lead.”
She supposed that made sense. She hated that he needed to go out and fight, and yet she would not want him to let Pittsburgh fall to the oni, either. Blood and mud were sprayed across the front of his white silk shirt, and there was a bruise on his cheek. Something had gotten through his shield and hurt him. The Stone Clan children had forever, and yet three of them were now dead. She hugged Windwolf tighter, wrapping arms and legs around him. And for a while, all that mattered was that they were together.
After Windwolf examined the chest with her, they ended up in the hayloft, as if they were just two average teenagers sneaking away for some privacy.
They were, of course, being discreetly guarded by their Hands. Tinker wasn’t sure which made the sekasha more nervous: the chest or her blowing things up.
The problem with going into mad-scientist mode was it didn’t shut down for nookie. Even as Windwolf nudged up the blue cheetah-print camisole with his nose, her mind was pointing out inconsistencies in the events she’d just told him.
She sighed and gave up resisting the demand for answers. “Did Sparrow know about Earth Son’s offer to sponsor anyone from his clan that came to the Westernlands?”
“I do not believe so.” Windwolf used his lips and tongue to quiet the mad scientist. . for a few minutes.
“The thing I keep going back to with the kids: how did Yutakajodo know? He sent the lesser bloods to the train station because he knew that there would be elves traveling alone. Elves no one would miss. How would Yutakajodo know about the kids when the rest of us were so clueless?”
Windwolf leaned back. Emotions played across Windwolf’s face, starting with anger. It gave way to confusion, and he shook his head. “I sent word to the queen after the oni kidnapped you — before they even took Little Horse as your whipping boy. I knew that my cousin would probably request the Stone Clan to send domana; they excel at city sieges and guerrilla warfare. If this were a battle all in open fields, Ember would have just sent more Fire Clan. She could only require the Stone Clan to send someone — she could not select the domana herself — not without insulting the head of the Stone Clan.”
“Gods forbid we insult people,” Tinker growled.
He grinned at her and then sobered as he traced circles on her bared stomach. “Ember has a thankless job of keeping four clans that would happily slit each others throats from doing just that.”
“Earth Son was at Aum Reanu. Perhaps he told Sparrow while he was there that he planned to sponsor these children. She could have passed that information on to the oni.”
Windwolf considered it and then slowly shook his head. “I doubt it. Sparrow was misleading me as to just how strong the oni force was in Pittsburgh. I wasn’t willing to give up my holdings for help until the oni took you. Then I was willing to give it all away to get you back.”
It made her all fluttery inside to know he meant it. “Wow.” She slapped him slightly on the shoulder. “Don’t say things like that. It wouldn’t have been fair to people like Poppymeadow and Ginger Wine. They depend on you.”
He grinned and kissed her. “You are perfect.”
She blushed and yet felt giddily happy. “Why?”
“Because you’re right.”
“Of course I am. I usually am. I don’t see how the two relate, though. What does that have to do with Earth Son telling Sparrow about sponsoring people?”
“Because he had no holdings in Westernlands until the Crown awarded him remunerations for coming to Pittsburgh.”
She saw the cause and effect then. When Earth Son was at Aum Reanu, he couldn’t have known that Windwolf would ask for help. Sparrow was dead by the time Earth Son arrived in Pittsburgh.