“It does get sunny on Rabbit Mountain in the spring—and crowded sometimes, when everyone comes for the view. But it’s still my favorite spot in Iro. You’ll see. When the trees flower and the mountain turns green, it’s like a place out of dreams. Only Takkan seems to like Iro best in the winter.”
Why is that?
“Because that’s when he gets to work on his stories. They’re all over his desk.” There was a conspiratorial lift in her eyebrow. “I’ve been trying to get him to tell one this year at the Winter Festival, but he’s as stubborn as his horse. I’ll betyoucould get him to, though…since you saved hislife.”
Now I straightened. I knew that tone. I had practically invented it when I wanted something from my brothers.
“Oh, everyone would love it so much. It’s tradition for someone from the family to open the Winter Festival with a performance. It’s a way for us to make the people of Iro happy. Father used to recite poetry, and Mama used to dance. Now I play my lute, and when we’re lucky, Takkan…”
Her voice drifted as she glanced nervously about the trees. I looked around, too. What was she looking for?
Megari grabbed my arm. “There they are! The plum blossoms!”
The grove was small, only a dozen trees at most, but itwasbeautiful. Rose-kissed petals sailed across the wind, floating onto the soft, untouched snow. Not far away, I heard the river warbling—and a horse neighing.
“You’re late,” said Takkan, closing his sketchbook. “You said you’d be here playing on your lute before I arrived.”
“Takkan!” Megari jumped into her brother’s waiting arms. He spun her in the air, stopping midway when he noticed me.
“I brought Lina along—is that all right? She hasn’t seen the plum blossoms.”
Takkan greeted me with a smile. “Is that so?”
I didn’t smile back. I wasn’t unhappy to see him, but I did wonder what Megari was scheming.
Behind the trees, his horse nickered and grumbled, kicking up snow that flew in our direction.
“Easy there,” Takkan said, trying to calm him down. “Admiral. What’s gotten into you?”
Admiral snuffled, and his huge eyes blinked fearfully. I stepped back. I had a feeling he was reacting to me.
“I should have brought some persimmons,” Megari said, stroking the horse’s thick mane. “There, there, that’s a good boy.” She nuzzled him. “I’m still trying to get my big brother to change your name to Noodles. Admiral is such a stodgy old name.”
“He’s a sentinel horse, Megari, not a rabbit.”
“Sentinel horses can have personalities too. See, he likesit.”
“I think he just likes you.”
“Then he has good taste.”
With a laugh, Takkan tended to Admiral, and Megari hooked an arm around one of the plum trees and spun, catching stray petals as they fell. She snapped off a sprig and handed it to me. “A keepsake, Lina. Until spring.”
I touched the blossoms to my nose, inhaling their sweet fragrance. I tucked the sprig carefully into my pocket.
“Sometimes I wish the Winter Festival were here instead of in town.” Megari sighed. “Can you imagine having the lantern lighting among these trees? It’ll be scenic enough by the river, I suppose. Oh, you’ll love it, Lina. It’ll be so cold you can’t feel your nose, but there’s no night as wonderful. And then there’s the fireworks.”
“I thought you didn’t like fireworks,” said her brother.
“I don’t,” Megari quipped. “They’re loud and everyone else loves them too much. But I’m willing to face my fears for the sake of the festival. Unlike you, Takkan. So much for courage being our creed.”
“This has nothing to do with courage,” Takkan said sternly. “No matter how many times you ask, I’m not going to change my mind.”
Change your mind about what?I gestured.
Before Takkan could stop her, Megari pivoted dramatically and hopped onto a tree stump.
“Hear me, friend Lina: my brother, Bushi’an Takkan of Iro—who has eluded assassins and bandits and fought valiantly on behalf of Emperor Hanriyu—is shy. He has been ever since he was a boy. He had no friends, not even Pao. And he would climb trees to hide from crowds—”
