Whisper of Blade | ✓ (Crimson #1)

Chapter 29: A Boy and His Kat

Even though hugging Azuki with one arm while she walked meant she'd be at a disadvantage should anyone jump them, Minerva held him close. His soft head rested under her chin, ears flicking when she sniffled.

Kodak glanced over, but kept silent. His hand returned time and again to the journal stashed in his cloak pocket and his dark brows furrowed in thought.

"You're sad," Azuki said.

Minerva wiped at her nose with a white pocket cloth. She grimaced at the soot and snot smearing the fabric before tucking it away. "A little sad," she admitted. At least a good cry often improved her mood, like a gentle rain bringing back life to the earth.

Paws pressed at her collarbone and Azuki's legs straightened so he could peer at her face. "Would bean buns make you happy again?"

"Maybe." Minerva perused the shop signs, thinking of the bakery with the white buns only a few streets away. They couldn't afford the detour though.

Azuki seemed to sigh in her arms, but hugged her neck with his paws. His purrs vibrated against her chest. When she'd asked him once about the little rumblings kats made, he'd said they helped hurting things heal.

As they entered Chrysanthemum district, the scent of komezu and ginger spiked the air. Bright red paper lanterns hung from the curved, sloping rooftops, providing a contrast to the dark grey of slate and stone. Patrons milled near the doors of restaurants, their figures sheathed in cloth decorated with the patterns of fragile white blossoms.

By night, inhibitions would be loosened and the festival mood would reign while flower fire lit the sky. For now, the city dozed, unused to the habit of rousing at night and sleeping in the day.

Kodak's sudden shout of alarm would have woken the spirits of the dead.

Minerva caught a glimpse of a child's scrawny face with a shock of short black hair before a cloud of dust kicked up. The boy sped away—a multi-colored ball of fluff clinging to his shoulder—with Kodak in hot pursuit.

No one around took much notice. As long as the weight of their coin pouches rested securely in their robes, a starving urchin swiping some other man's treasure didn't concern them in the slightest.

"Are we going to help him?" Azuki asked while he and Minerva watched pursued and pursuer race down the length of the street.

"I'm sure he can handle it." Minerva set Azuki on her shoulder and kept walking. "He has longer legs—he'll catch the little thief in no time."

At the end of the street, Kodak wrestled with the boy less than half his size. The child looked to be around ten summers but it could be hard to tell with those of his class since they often didn't have enough to eat. Under a too-big cloak, tattered clothing hung from his bony frame. Steel flashed in his hand and a feral snarl twisted his face as he fought.

"Stop trying to stab me, you rapscallion!" Kodak held the boy's wrist but blood leaked through his grip and the boy's kat had sunk its teeth into his arm.

"I don't think he's handling it," Azuki said. He leaped to the ground and grabbed the younger kat by its scruff. At first the kitten's hackles rose further but a growl from Azuki prompted it to loosen its bite.

Minerva waited as Kodak disarmed the boy. "Return what you stole from him," she ordered in common speech.

The boy squirmed but couldn't escape Kodak's hold. "Take it," he spat, eyes filling with tears. "It's only a book. I thought it must be a lot of coin from how carefully he guarded it." He took the book from where he'd slipped it into his sash and held it out to Kodak.