It had to know the neighbor, especially if he came around often. Yanko wished he had gotten a better look at the man. He tried to share what he remembered with the parrot.
“Puntak, puntak,” the bird said, bits of chips falling from its mouth.
“No, it’s Nurian,
Nurian
,” Mela said in a soothing but slightly mortified tone.
Trying to unlearn a bird of thirty years of racist terms could not be easy. In this case, Yanko found the outburst heartening. The parrot had understood him. As soon as Mela finished feeding it chips, he shared further thoughts, trying to suggest that more chips would be available if the bird flew out, found Mee Nar, and repeated, “Yanko wants to talk,” a few times.
At the promise of more chips, the parrot flexed his wings and ruffled his feathers enthusiastically. He wanted to open his mouth and practice his new line, but Yanko urged him to wait until he got outside. The door Akstyr had come through was still open, the warm salty breeze whispering into the house, and Yanko pointed this out to his new ally.
“No, it’s Nurian,” the parrot said and flew off the coat tree and out the door.
“Oh, it sticks this time?” Akstyr lifted his head. “Much shame. I love that beak.” He grinned devilishly and said something else in Kyattese.
“Even when it’s calling you an ape?” Dak asked.
“Yes. It is funny.”
Yanko tracked the bird’s progress as it flew toward the coast, heading farther from town, in the direction Mee Nar had indicated. Then he caught Akstyr giving him a funny look and let the connection go. Maybe Akstyr sensed him using the mental sciences.
Lakeo yawned. “So, we’re sleeping here tonight? And hoping Yanko’s new friends don’t come to visit?”
Dak nodded. “Yes. Mela will have rooms for everyone.” Dishes were clattering in the kitchen.
“It’s nice of her to house us when we’re strangers.” To Yanko’s relief, Akstyr turned his attention back to his books.
“
Some
of us are strangers.” Lakeo glanced at Dak.
Dak was finishing his second helping of dinner and did not comment.
“I’m tired, as well,” Yanko said. “Perhaps I’ll go help Mela with the dishes and ask about a room.” Preferably one on the first floor with a wide window ideal for sneaking out.
As he stood up, heavy footsteps thundered on the staircase. The twins—nobody had given Yanko the boy’s name yet—raced down, taking three steps at a time. The blond man followed, as well as a young girl of twelve of thirteen. Some new recruit from the family?
Yanko thought they might be passing through, on the way to pilfer snacks from the kitchen, but they took over the end of the table, the girl with a box full of wooden cat figurines and the boy with a map of the property, which he spread out for everyone to see. Dak propped his chin on his hand and watched without commenting as the girl plunked down large black panthers to pin the corners. Akstyr kept reading his book as he pretended not to notice the twins’ arrival. Or perhaps the girl’s arrival.
“We’ve placed alert alarms at the four corners of the property,” she said in Nurian, waving to the panthers.
“Actually at the seven corners,” the boy corrected. “Our ancestors were not geometry zealots. The original property boundaries meander.”
“Can you tell us who the intruders are likely to be?” The girl held up smaller cats—bobcats?—and smiled brightly at Yanko. “Are they other practitioners? Fire mages? Or maybe pirates? I heard there were pirates over in the southern keys lately. We’re ready for them. In addition to the alarms, we have proximity stun mines, smoke bombs, trip wires, and those pokey things Father gave us for the tree house.” She looked at her brother.
“Caltrops,” he supplied.
“Yes, it’s a mix of Made devices and mundane Turgonian armament. Grammy doesn’t approve, but we
knew
this day would come.” If her eyes grew any brighter, beams would shoot out of them.
“I’m Yanko,” he said, feeling behind on the conversation. What exactly had Dak told the family when he had talked to Mela through the communication orb? “Who are you?”
“Oh, I’m Koanani. This is my brother, Agarik. We may be young, but this isn’t our first time defending a camp.”
“Granted, it’s slightly larger than our camp on the Mezormosha Islands,” Agarik murmured, more soft-spoken and maybe shier than the girl.
“Yes, I can see that.” Yanko nodded at the map, amazed at the size of the property, especially if he was reading the legend correctly and understood the distance involved. It stretched from the ocean all the way to the base of the volcano and extended a good ten miles north and south. Yanko’s family had that much property, but that was in remote mountains, not in the center of a bustling destination island where land had to sell at a premium. “Is that road the only way on and off the property?”
“If you’re coming in a vehicle, yes,” Koanani said, “but if you’re walking, there aren’t too many places where the brush is too thick to cross, but that’s why our alarms are line-of-sight, strategically placed all around the border. They’ve been there for ages, and actually Father helped put all of this in, but we’ve never gotten to use it. Until
now
.”
“I’ve never seen anyone sound so happy that their home is about to be attacked,” Lakeo remarked.
“She’s an odd girl,” Agarik said. “You’ll get used to it.”
Without losing her smile, Koanani elbowed him. “This is going to be fantastic. I was disappointed to be stuck here in school, while Mahliki has all the fun, but this will make up for it. Yanko, will it be more than one practitioner? We need more intel, please.”
Yanko looked at Dak, still feeling helpless. Were the teenagers truly planning the defensive campaign for the homestead?
Dak spread his hand. “I’m only visiting. They’re in charge here.”
“I... am hoping no one comes to bother you at all,” Yanko told the twins, “but there’s a warrior mage and a mage hunter after me. At the least. There could be more powerful people. The mage is the only one I’ve met.” He touched his temple to imply
met
was not quite the word.
“A telepath? Oh. We could talk to him.” Koanani smiled at her brother.
“I wouldn’t,” Yanko said. “He wasn’t witty or charming.”
“Enemy mages so rarely are. He can’t be any worse than that shaman who was in charge of selecting his people’s ritual sacrifices, though. All right,” Koanani went on, barely pausing to take breaths. “We’ll assume they’ll come from the direction of the port.” She plunked a couple of bobcats down on the road.
Mela came out with ramekins full of a creamy dessert that smelled of coconuts. She shook her head at the cat-covered map but did not comment on the fact that her grandchildren were making war plans.
Chips!
cried a voice in Yanko’s head.
He nearly fell out of his chair. “Sorry, scratch,” he muttered and rubbed his back, since the twins were looking at him. Even Akstyr had raised his head from his book. Yanko had not expected the parrot to speak into his mind—he had never met an animal, reptile, or bird that could do more than receive. Had it parroted his telepathic link, the same way it parroted people’s words? Someday, he would have to find an animal-sciences specialist and ask about such developments.
Chips?
This time the word came with the thought of Mee Nar walking along the coast. Toward the Komitopis house, Yanko hoped, though he had no idea how he was going to slip out to talk to the man, not when he was being grilled for intelligence.
“That’s about all I can tell you,” Yanko said, feigning another yawn. When Koanani’s smile faltered, he felt guilty about his deception, but if he learned what he needed to know from the neighbor, he could leave without endangering the family. Just because the kids wanted a battle did not mean he should hurl one at their porch. “I’m still hoping they won’t come at all. Honored Host, might you have a place where my friend and I can sleep?” He waved at Lakeo, trusting that Dak could arrange his own lodgings. It would be good not to have to share a cabin with him anymore. He didn’t snore, but he was big, and when there were only two hammocks in a room the size of a closet, one didn’t get a lot of sleep.
“Of course, Yanko,” Mela said. “This way.”
“Let me get another glass of water first, please.” He held up his cup and nodded toward the kitchen.
“I can get it for you.”
“Oh, no. You’ve already done enough.” He smiled at her, ignoring the way Akstyr rolled his eyes, then hustled into the kitchen, hoping the taro chips were not hard to find. Ah, good. The basket was sitting out on the counter. He swiped a handful, hoping it would be enough to satisfy his bird ally.
Chips!
came another cry when he touched the basket. What had he started with this connection? Was the parrot telepathically monitoring him? Could a bird
do
that?
He stuffed the chips in his pocket, filled his glass, and hustled back out to find Mela waiting. The twins and their other family members were hunched over the map, pointing and discussing. Dak had scooted closer to join the conversation. Lakeo’s eyes were bloodshot. Yanko’s probably were, too, since he had been up all night and only dozed a couple of hours before they reached port that morning. Too bad he had no intention of going to sleep yet.
“This way.” Holding a whale oil lantern, Mela led them down a back hallway. She paused in front of a door and looked back and forth between them. “Two rooms?” she guessed.
“Yes,” Yanko said.
“Aw, Yanko.” Lakeo slung an arm around his shoulders. “You don’t want to take this opportunity to get cozy?”
“I’ve been sharing a tiny cabin with a giant Turgonian for the last week. I’m looking forward to having my own room. Besides, you have twenty pounds’ worth of pamphlets there to study.” Yanko waved a hand at her pack.
She lowered her arm and shifted it away from him. “Fine.”
“He’s actually only a couple of inches above average for a Turgonian,” Mela said with a smile. “Their children eat well over there.”
“I’ve heard,” Yanko murmured, trying to keep the judgment out of his voice. Whatever struggles his people were having now, it wasn’t as if he had ever gone hungry.
Mela pushed open a door. “Sleep well.”
The window Yanko had been hoping for occupied the wall on the other side of the bed. As soon as the door shut, he dropped his pack and charged over to it, banging his knee on a trunk in the process. A candle burned on the nightstand, but its light did not travel far. He pushed aside the curtains and opened the window.
He was in one of two wings of the house that cupped a lush courtyard with a gurgling fountain and numerous flowering plants that sent their aroma into the room. It
would
be a nice place for a tryst with a woman, but he only had trysts with Nurian men in mind for tonight.
Yanko closed his eyes, reaching out into the fields and orchards behind the house, searching for the parrot. He did not have to search far. He hadn’t had the window open for more than thirty seconds before wings flapped outside and the sleek red-and-blue bird landed on the sill in front of him. It tilted its head, a beady eye staring straight at Yanko. Actually, straight at his pocket.
Can you take me to the human?
he asked, placing the image of Mee Nar in the bird’s mind again. At the same time, he held out a couple of broken taro chips. That beak came perilously close to removing a chunk of skin in its eagerness to snatch up the treat. But he did not have to ask twice. The parrot flew out of the courtyard.
Yanko grabbed his sword, climbed out the window, and ran after him.
After seeing the size of the property, he worried he would have to run miles to meet up with Mee Nar, but the man must not have made it all the way home before the parrot caught up with him. He was waiting behind a mound-shaped earthen building with processing and distilling equipment visible through an open door.
“Greetings, Honored Neighbor,” Yanko said when the man came into view, leaning casually against the back wall, as if he belonged there. Yanko wished he felt like
he
belonged here. Instead, he kept glancing nervously back at the house. “I sensed that you might wish to talk to me.”
The parrot squawked from atop the distillery.
Yanko winced at the noise. He shared his gratitude with the bird, then gave him the suggestion that more chips might be obtained in the kitchen. Wings flapped, and he took flight.
“Interesting,” Mee Nar said. “There aren’t many young people in Nuria who study the animal sciences any more. Or have things changed since I left?”
“They haven’t changed. I’m mostly self-taught and do prefer the earth sciences, but animals are a part of the earth. I find them easy to be around. Mee Nar, have you lived here long? I’m seeking an artifact. If the stories around it are true, it could change the lives of our people. I...” Yanko hesitated, not certain how much he should confess to a man he had just met and knew nothing about. Could he get his help without saying more? Did Mee Nar know anything useful to start with?
“Artifact? Some treasure? You’re not seeking the Ebony Dragon, are you? Or the Chalice of Eternal Life?” Mee Nar sounded disappointed. Understandably so, since those were, as far as Yanko knew, nothing more than items mentioned in fables.
“No, nothing so silly.” Or so Yanko hoped. He stretched out with his senses, making sure nobody was nearby. He sensed only the people in the house and more in the bunkhouse up the road, but nobody else was roaming around outside after dark. Good. “Have you heard of the Golden Lodestone?”
“No.”
Yanko relayed the story, explaining the lost continent, what it might offer for Nuria, and how the lodestone was supposed to be able to find it. Mee Nar listened without interrupting. It was too dark to see his face, and Yanko couldn’t tell if the man believed anything he was hearing or not.
At the end, Mee Nar asked, “Was it your idea to come here or the Turgonian’s?”
“To Kyatt?”
“To this house.” Mee Nar waved at the land around them.
“Dak’s idea.”
“Interesting.”
“Why?” Yanko leaned forward, his fingers twitching, as if he might pluck the answers from Mee Nar’s mind. He supposed he could try, but spending a week reading a book on mind science didn’t make him an expert, and if Mee Nar was a Sensitive, he would feel the intrusion.