To the war that awaited.
He dove off the promontory and soared out over the waves, the roaring storm beneath his wings, lover-sweet whispers in his ears. Lady Sun was reaching toward a new dawn, and Yukiko stood on the shore and screamed in triumph, hands in the air, a smile on her face that seemed to him as wide and as bright as summer skies.
Yukiko’s howls finally roused the female from her coma, and she clawed her way to her feet, shaking side to side to rid herself of the rain’s weight, wings spread in a broad fan, eyes still half clouded with shock. Snow-white fur ran to scarlet in the breaking light, and she turned toward the pale warmth, wind caressing the feathers at her throat, the fur on her flanks, her stripes like black clouds across a sunset sky.
Just as magnificent as he remembered.
Yukiko reached toward Buruu, hand outstretched, eyes narrowed in concentration as she wrapped both him and the female up in the Kenning, drawing the pair of them into her thoughts. He could feel the wall of self Yukiko had built in her mind, pain crackling along its surface, seeping inside and making her wince. But still, despite the lingering ache, he felt a warmth and peace more comforting than any home he had ever known.
Yukiko spoke to the female, thoughts as gentle as mother’s hands.
You’re awake. Are you all right?
—I WILL LIVE, YōKAI-KIN.—
The female looked at him across the gulf between then and now, tail switching, eyes narrowed, talons shredding the shale beneath her paws. He could feel her in the space Yukiko had created within the Kenning, a bitter, jagged heat in the corner of a blood-warm room, and as he spoke, she turned toward him, the sound of his thoughts echoing upon the walls.
HELLO, KAIAH.
She blinked, said nothing. Yukiko looked back and forth between them, wind blowing her hair about her face in sodden drifts, amazement in her eyes.
Wait, you two know each other?
The female snorted.
—KINSLAYER KNOWS NOTHING OF ME. I, TOO MUCH OF HIM.— He could feel Yukiko’s curiosity burning like fire. But brighter still was the need to get back to Shima, to see if there was any chance of stopping Hiro’s wedding, to return to the people she knew were relying on her—the storm waiting for her to call its name.
Buruu should be able to fly now. We have to get back home.
—THEN GO.—
Will you come with us?
—WOULD DO THAT WHY?—
Because there’s a war waiting for us. Because two thunder tigers are better than one.
—YOUR WAR MEANS NOTHING TO ME. SHIMA IS A WASTELAND. NOTHING WORTH FIGHTING FOR.— Then why did you help me?
—DID NOT HELP YOU. HELPED THEM.—
Yukiko blinked, tilted her head.
Buruu and Skraai? You said they were— —NOT THE MALES, MONKEY-CHILD. RAIJIN TAKE ME SHOULD I HELP THE KINSLAYER.— Then who do you mean? Who is “they”?
—YOU REALLY NOT KNOW?—
Kaiah looked at Buruu, disdain in her gaze, fur gleaming like fresh winter snow.
—CANNOT FEEL THEM, KINSLAYER? NOT HEAR THEM SCREAM WHEN THE MONKEY-MAN STRUCK HER BELLY?— Realization dawned, a cold slap to his face, an understanding so bright he wondered how he didn’t see it before. All of it …
All of it made sense now …
Yukiko’s illness at the rising of the sun. Her moods, constantly shifting, like sand upon a windswept beach. The heat and light of the world growing along with her strength, her inability to shut it out. The amplification of the Kenning, her power doubling over the course of the last few months.
Yukiko looked at him, eyes bright with uncertainty.
No, not doubling.
Tripling.
YUKIKO …
What is she talking about?
—TELL HER.—
Tell me what? Who is they?
Buruu sighed, storm howling overhead, lighting reflected in the bottomless black of her eyes. The girl he loved more than anything in this world. The girl he would do anything to protect, to spare her even one more second of pain.
But he could not spare her this.
YUKIKO …
Oh, gods, no …
The sigh came from the heart of him.
YUKIKO, YOU ARE WITH CHILD.
She stared at him, mouth agape, hands moving slowly to her belly.
“Them”?
YES.
He nodded.
TWINS …
Yukiko sank to her knees, clutching her abdomen and staring at nothing at all. The gaijin knelt beside her, asking if she was well. She was pale as death, wide-eyed, fingers splayed on black glass as if the whole world were shifting beneath her.
Which he supposed, in a very real way, it was.
HELP ME WITH HER, KAIAH.
—SPEAK NOT TO ME.—
He looked at the islands around them, the spire of rusted copper, the nomad’s corpse, skinned and bloody, the gaijin torn to ragged meat and food for worms. This place that lay days from the Everstorm. Riddled with monkey-children like fleas on a cur. Miles from the islands the arashitora called home. Why was she here at all? Why was she not …
WHY ARE YOU HERE INSTEAD OF WITH KOUU?
She stepped forward with a snarl, hackles raised.