Shadow of the Father (4 page)

“She won’t have started them baking yet,” Sinch said, but he scooted away from Yilon and pulled his pants up.

He was right, as it turned out. Chiona was just mixing ingredients into a large bowl. Her nose twitched as they entered the kitchen. “Sinchon,” she said, “would you taste this and see if there’s anything you’d add to it? Yilon, come help me gather a couple things in the garden, be a dear?”

“Of course.” Sinch took the bowl.

“Wash your paws first,” his mother said. Sinch dipped his ears and gave Yilon an abashed grin, putting the bowl down again. Yilon lifted his own paws to his nose, trying to be nonchalant about it, and smelled mostly his own saliva and a bit of Sinch’s musk. It wasn’t too bad. Still, he wiped them self-consciously on his tunic as he followed Chiona outside.

“What are you collecting?” he asked her, but she motioned to the far side of the garden, near the gate. The drone of locusts overwhelmed the sounds of the far-off busy street. Yilon’s ears tracked them, in case one came close enough to grab.

“I just need some of these flowers,” she said. She bent to pick small purple flowers from a large bush. “Hold out your paws.”

He held them out, cupped together. One by one, she dropped the blossoms into them. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

“Day after.” A small noise came outside the gate, a scrape of claw on pavement, turned his ear. Someone passing by, he thought idly. Someone else who knows our shortcut.

She nodded. Three more blossoms fell into his paws. “I want you to take Sinchon with you.”

He almost dropped the flowers. His ears swung around to face her full on. “What?”

“He has nobody else. He won’t ask you for fear of troubling you. But he has no other friends, really.”

The blossoms in his paw filled his nose with fragrance, sweet and delicate. “I know that, but I thought…”

Chiona moved to another section of the bush. When he didn’t finish, she said, “You’ve always seemed older than him, more sure of your place in the world. Before you met him, he was quiet and shy, never told me where he was going. When he’s with you, I don’t worry.”

Another noise behind the gate. Yilon had never stood here for this long, so he hadn’t realized it was such a popular shortcut. “But he helps you in the kitchen. He can’t leave his… his family.”

“It’s woman’s work, what he does. And he has so little family as it is. Just me, and his sisters, when they’re home.” Her fingers worked dexterously to extract blossoms from the inside of the bush.

“He sees his father.”

She turned from the bush to peer up at him. Her wise, dark eyes reminded him so much of Sinch’s that even had he not known her, he would have known they were related. “In passing, in corridors and gardens. Not to come home to. Not to tell him when he’s doing well, or keep him from doing ill.”

“But there’s you,” he said.

“There is me,” she agreed. “But I’ve taught him all I can. Bellia can help me in the kitchen. If Sinchon stays around here, he’ll end up a cook or a kitchen boy.”

“A cook is an honorable profession,” Yilon began, but stopped when Chiona laughed.

“Rodenta bless you, my boy, I’m not ashamed of what I do. It’s fine work, for a woman. But Sinchon can be more.” She rested her paws on his, over top of the blossoms. “He’s got much of his father in him, just as you have of yours.”

“You know my father?”

She winked. “When I worked in the kitchens he and that Lord Ikling were in there every morning to snatch a piece of bread or a small cake, seemed like. He always paid me compliments and asked after me. Not many Lords do that.”

Yilon stared down at her silver-furred paws, covering the purple blossoms, with his black fingers beneath. “That’s what people say.”

She put a finger to his lips. It smelled of the warmth of her kitchen, the fragrance of the blossoms. “You’re a good cub, honest and true. Sinchon needs more friends like you. Will you take him with you?”

Yilon pictured taking Sinch with him, thought about how good it would be to have a friend along, and then he heard another scraping, a little different this time. His ears flicked toward the gate. What if it wasn’t just a busy road? When Chiona lowered her paw, he caught another scent, one stronger than it would’ve been if the person on the other side of the gate were just passing by. Rat, he could tell, but not much more.

He tipped the blossoms into Chiona’s paws and put his finger to his lips. Quickly, he yanked the gate open, just in time to see a light brown rat tail disappearing over the fence into the adjacent garden. In a second, he was across the alley, leaping for the top of the fence. He hung there, looking into the garden on the other side. Nothing stirred among the few ragged flowers, the pile of garbage by the house, or the overgrown weeds. The wooden door in the house was shut tight.

He debated whether to jump into the garden. Locusts buzzed overhead, but no other sound reached him. The smell of garbage overwhelmed any traces the rat might have left. Besides that, he was starting to remember the arrow on the roof top, and realizing how exposed he was hanging on top of a fence in a back alley of Divalia. He dropped to the ground.

“Sorry,” he said, returning to Chiona’s yard and closing the door.

She gave him a curious look from the same spot near the flowery bush.

“Your garden’s really nice.”

“Sinchon and the girls help me with it.” She tilted her head. “Are you in any sort of trouble?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I think someone was listening outside the gate.”

She frowned. “Listening at my gate?”

Yilon flicked his ears. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

Sinchon called through the open door, “I think it’s done, Ma.”

They both turned toward the kitchen. Chiona looked up at Yilon. “Please,” she said. “He won’t ask you himself.”

He nodded. “If I can.”

“Thank you.” She made her way along the little stone path back to the kitchen. Yilon followed, his mind awhirl with thoughts of Sinch coming with him, the arrow on the roof, and the rat in the alley. He was too distracted to talk much to Sinch, or his sisters when they arrived home a short time later. Finally, Chiona shooed them off to bed, fending off their motions toward the delicious-smelling pastries.

“The cakes will be done in the morning,” she said. “And you both have a busy day tomorrow.” Her brown eyes twinkled as she hustled them up the stairs.

“What did she mean, we have a busy day tomorrow?” Sinch closed the door behind them. Yilon leaned against the wall beside the windows, tail swishing behind him. “I was thinking,” he said. “How would you like to come with me to Dewanne?”

Sinch gaped, his head tilting. “I… with you? But…” He glanced at his door, looking downward.

“Your mom…” Yilon stopped. “Um, I asked her already. That’s what we were talking about in your garden,” he said, inspired.

“She said yes?” Yilon nodded. Sinch paced toward the small table, where he set down a paw on his pile of clothes. “And… you want me to come?”

“Of course.” Yilon smiled. “It’ll be more fun that way.”

“Really?”

Yilon sat on the bed. “Didn’t I just say that?”

“Sorry.” Sinch’s face spread into a grin. “I’d love to.” He took two steps to the bed and knelt astride one of Yilon’s legs. His nose bounced an inch from the fox’s. Yilon grasped his friend’s arms and pulled him down to the bed. “All right,” he said. “Then let’s get some sleep. We both have to pack tomorrow.”

The bed was small, but they were used to fitting together on it. Yilon squeezed back against the wall, and Sinch squeezed back against him. It was crowded and warm, but this late in the summer, the night brought a cooling breeze in through the open window. Yilon was more comfortable in Sinch’s bed than he’d ever been in his own bed at the palace.

 
In the morning, Chiona gave Yilon a napkin folded around a warm pile of cakes. The aroma of fresh baking and honey rose to his nostrils; the strong cinnamon and underlying vanilla made his nose twitch. “Now, mind you don’t eat them all the first day,” she said, turning back to the stove. “They’ll keep for a week.”

“Mmmf,” Yilon said, holding the napkin out to Sinch.

Chiona snatched the parcel back. “Honestly, you two. I have cakes made for you to eat this morning! Hmph. I’ll just put them in here and you can have them tomorrow.”

“We could have those now, too,” Yilon said, taking the wrapped cakes and swallowing the one in his mouth.

The mouse laughed. “Growing boys. Here, take them and go on about your day. Sinchon, I’ll see you for dinner. Yilon, will you be back to say good-bye?”

“I don’t know.” He leaned in close and rubbed his muzzle along hers. “If I don’t, good-bye, and thank you.”

She put her arms around him. “You take care, and remember what I said.”

Yilon looked more carefully outside when he left than he normally did. “What’s the matter?” Sinch asked, behind him, but Yilon didn’t want to worry him any more. He’d already overreacted to the arrow on the roof. And the streets in the morning were clearer than they had been at night. He could see almost all the way to the river. All the rats he could see were intent on their own errands.

Sinch was very chattery on the way back, talking about the trip and the country they’d see. Yilon kept the conversation going with a word here and there, but in the back of his mind he was puzzling over why a rat might want to spy on him. Who could he turn to ask about that kind of thing? Sinch would overreact, his father would either overreact or tell him he was being silly, and his tutors all lived in their own abstract worlds.

They showed their papers at the gate and walked into the palace garden. Halfway to the door, Yilon grabbed Sinch’s arm and pulled him down a side path. “Father,” he said, jerking his head in the direction they were turning away from. His father ran with Lord Ikling every morning, and Yilon didn’t have any desire to meet up with him before dinner. “So what are you going to take along?” Sinch asked, holding open the side door.

Yilon slipped through. The place was just beginning to wake up, lords strolling down the hallways to breakfast or out to morning errands as the servants hurried to get their work done. “Clothes,” he said, “all those formal outfits I have, and I’m going to the armory now to get a bow. Then I’ve got the armband my mother gave me, all my books… of course, my comportment and diplomacy classes don’t even have books…”

They walked down to the armory, where Yilon found it surprisingly easy to talk the old bear into letting him have not only a short bow for the trip to Dewanne, but also the knife he’d loaned Sinch the day before. He kept it hidden in his belt so that Sinch wouldn’t see it when he came out, but he needn’t have worried. Sinch was standing at the base of the stair, looking up, and didn’t seem to have noticed him at all.

Yilon edged around until he could see what Sinch was looking at: a mouse lord strolling down the stair, giving instructions to his servant. Sinch shrank back behind the large post, peering around it as the lord passed by.

Yilon came to stand behind his friend, watching the lord walk away. He thought the lord hadn’t seen them at all, but just before he stepped into a side passage, he turned his head, his dark eyes looking directly at the two of them.

Sinch froze where he was, even his tail going limp and falling to the marble. Yilon couldn’t think of anything to say to his friend. The moment stretched out, the two of them and the lord moving with the slowness of cold honey. Finally, the lord moved his head back, and continued walking down the side passage, out of sight.

They stood watching the empty passage. Sinch’s shoulders sagged. Yilon put a paw on the nearer one to him. “Wanna help me pack?” he said. The mouse nodded, following him around to his chambers without a word.

By the time they reached the room, he’d perked up. Volyan wasn’t there, no doubt having spent the night with one of his friends, but four empty trunks had appeared overnight, two on Yilon’s side of the room and two on Volyan’s. Sinch helped Yilon fold his clothes and pack them into the first trunk, which took them about until Volyan returned, his tunic balled up under his arm. The fluffy white fur on his chest was tousled, his stomach fur matted, but his ears were perked, and below his sleepy eyes, his muzzle curved in a satisfied smile.

“Good morning, brother,” he said, tossing the tunic into one of the trunks. “Packed already?”

“Almost.” Yilon glanced at his empty trunk.

Volyan looked around the small room. “Can’t believe I have to go too. I was hoping to have my room to myself again.”

“You’ll have it when you get back,” Sinch said. “Yilon’s gonna be a lord and he’ll have his own chambers.”

“Maybe.” Volyan opened his wardrobe. When he turned around, arms full of rumpled tunics, Yilon saw his grin. “If there aren’t any other lords who need rooms.”

“Oh, be quiet,” Yilon said.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure there’s a closet somewhere.” Volyan tossed the tunics into his trunk.

“Come on, Sinch.” Yilon waved to his friend.

The mouse tagged along dutifully behind him as he visited all his tutors, collecting books and well-wishes. It took most of the afternoon, but this time of year, the sun was still halfway on its journey down the sky when Sinch had to leave for dinner. “Be here at sunup?” he said.

Yilon nodded, tail wagging. “Excited?”

He didn’t really need to ask. Sinch nodded, eyes bright. “And,” he said, lowering his voice, “I haven’t forgotten about that arrow. I’m going to get a couple weapons to bring along, just in case…”

“No, listen,” Yilon said. “We’ll have guards, I’m sure.”

Sinch nodded. “But how do you know you can trust them?”

“Maxon wouldn’t bring someone untrustworthy,” Yilon started to argue, but the mouse was so earnest, and what harm would it do? “All right,” he said. “I feel safer already.”

“Don’t get hurt tonight.” Sinch looked behind him, into the palace main hall.

“I just hope I can get through dinner without Father making a scene.” Yilon clapped his friend on the shoulder. “See you in the morning.”