The Fox's God (2 page)

Certain people—especially people named “Jien” or “Sanae”—had no concept of what being careful meant. Aito was sensible, so he would likely be fine. They’d have to take the risk.

Akakiba, Jien, and Yuki followed the coast. It rose and rose until they were ambling on top of an impressive cliff, enjoying the fresh air—there hadn’t been a lot of that in the ship’s belly—and the strangely pleasant roar of waves breaking against the cliff below. The sky remained overcast, presaging further rainfall—or snowfall—later on.

Akakiba’s shoulders leaked tension with every step. To say he hadn’t been happy trapped on a ship with a walking mountain of a man who disliked foxes was an understatement. He was much more confident with solid earth under his feet.

As Jien regained color, he was soon back to his normal chatty self—an improvement over the sick and miserable wreck he’d been for the past few days.

“Hey, look, seabirds!” Jien shaded his eyes to squint at them. “Aito would know what they’re called.”

There was nobody but them—and the birds—out there. And, ah, a child standing on the edge. What was he doing?

“That’s dangerous, child!” Jien called out. “Step back before you fall!”

The child spared them a quick glance and resolutely stepped out into thin air. He plummeted like a stone, screaming only at the end, right before he hit the water and vanished under the surface. There weren’t any rocks that might shatter a falling person’s body, which meant the child should have survived the fall, but surviving the waves was a different matter.

“Why would he jump?” Jien asked, sounding as bewildered as Akakiba felt. He’d seen humans do countless odd things, but why would a child seek death?

“He surfaced,” Yuki said, pointing. The child was barely visible, arms flailing as he struggled against the waves seeking to slam him against the cliff. He clearly didn’t have the strength or skills to get away.

Akakiba clamped a hand on Jien’s shoulder because the monk had moved for the edge as if he were considering jumping. “Don’t be stupid. You’ll drown.” He jerked his chin left, towards the tiny fishing boat currently racing for the cliff, propelled by a strong man’s vigorous rowing. “Leave it to them. They saw.”

“Too slow,” Jien said, tone wretched.

“He won’t stay afloat long enough,” Yuki murmured.

Oh, wonderful. If the idiotic child with a death wish drowned, both of them were going to be miserable. He’d have to try. He wasn’t the best swimmer, but he was hard to kill and—

Yuki pushed a bundle of clothes and weapons into the crook of Akakiba’s free arm. “Hold these for me,” he said, right before leaping off.

Akakiba couldn’t help the way his hand closed convulsively on Jien’s shoulder, eliciting a hiss of pain. “Sorry.” He released his hold at the same time Yuki hit the water, feet first, and vanished smoothly under the surface.

Jien rubbed his abused shoulder without a word, watching the sea.

Bobbing back to the surface, Yuki swam for the distressed boy. A wave rolled over them both, but two heads shortly reappeared, now heading towards the open ocean and away from the dangerous cliff. It was slow going, probably because the idiotic child Yuki towed wouldn’t stop flailing.

“He swims like he’s had plenty of practice,” Jien observed.

“He spent a lot of time swimming with his dragon over the summer,” Akakiba said. He’d resented the time they spent in the water together, but at the moment he was simply grateful Yuki was a strong and confident swimmer. “I don’t know if he’s good because of practice or because of something the dragon bond did to him.”

Assuming the idiotic child didn’t pull Yuki under in his panic, they’d be fine. The boat was closing in, the two men aboard leaning forward as if trying to will it faster. After an eternity, the tiny boat reached Yuki’s and the child’s floating heads. The fishermen hauled the rescued aboard first, then the rescuer. Between them, the fishermen removed enough clothing to give the drenched duo something dry to put on. Now clad in brown, Yuki cheerfully waved up at them, as if they didn’t know exactly where he was. Jien waved back.

Akakiba started breathing again. “Let’s go. There has to be a way down.”

They walked alongside the cliff edge, the boat outpacing them steadily. It was heading for a narrow bay that must be where the villagers launched their fishing boats from, for the coast ended in cliffs everywhere else.

By the time they were within sight, the boat was ashore and surrounded by villagers. A woman likely to be the boy’s mother elbowed her way through the crowd, wailing like a ghost. The other adults wore grim expressions.

Jien stopped mid-step. “Shouldn’t they be happy he made it? They act like he died. You don’t think—?”

They couldn’t see through the crowd, couldn’t ascertain whether the boy was dead or alive. Not until a woman raised her voice to say, “They need to warm up, you idiots! Out of the way!” She marched Yuki and the near-drowned boy to the nearest house, presumably to get them in front of a warm fire.

Soon, heads began to turn their way. After a moment, a middle-aged couple edged forward, the man addressing Jien. “Are you a monk?”

Jien’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t see many
sohei
round here, eh? Can I help you?”

“There’s a demon killing our children.”

As one, Akakiba and Jien turned towards the house that was warming Yuki and the boy who’d stepped off the cliff.

“Did you see his aura, before he jumped?” Jien murmured.

“No.” They’d been too far, and he hadn’t had time to
look
.

It wasn’t impossible that the boy had been possessed at the time he jumped. It wasn’t impossible he were still possessed, right now. They’d have to take a closer look at his aura. It was a shame neither Sanae nor Aito were here; they saw auras best. Yuki used to see auras as well as they did, but that seemed to have changed since he’d lost his bond with his dragon.

“Tell me more about this demon,” Jien said to the couple.

The woman began to weep. “Two children were killed before we realized. The priest gave us charms for the children. We thought they would work. But now it’s happening again.”

“I’d like to see those charms,” Akakiba said. He knew what a proper one looked like.

The charms were brought over and studied at length. The glyphs looked exactly like the one that had, if only briefly, kept him from re-entering his own body a few months past. “These are fine.”

Jien looked at the villager woman. “Tell me. Was the boy who fell wearing one of these?”

“He should have been.”

They peeked in the house over the woman’s shoulder as she relayed the question.

The boy had no such charm on his person. He wasn’t possessed, but he did have shadows on his aura. Demon-touched.

“Either he lost the charm in the sea, or he lost it before and that’s what gave the demon an opening to make him jump,” Jien speculated as they walked away to discuss privately. “A demon that likes attacking children needs to be taken out. But how do we catch it, if it only goes after children? We can hardly use one as bait.”

Neither of them had an answer. They eventually recovered Yuki, mostly dry and sipping hot tea from a bowl, and got him back into his own clothing.

They spent the evening besieged by anxious parents wishing to be told the problem could be solved within the next five minutes. The villagers focused their attention on Jien, which suited Akakiba. In a low voice, he caught Yuki up on the situation.

“We should use charms, too,” Yuki said. “So we don’t get flung off a cliff. I’ll go beg for string and something to carve with. I’ve made charms before.”

Children crowded round as well, wanting to touch Akakiba’s swords or Jien’s bald head. One girl stayed away, glowering at them from behind the shelter of a tree.

Akakiba touched the nearest woman’s sleeve. “Excuse me—who is that girl?”

“Oh, her. She’s an orphan. Lives off by herself in her old house. She doesn’t get along with anyone, I’m afraid. We’d take her in if we could, but she’s a wild thing.”

“I see.” Later, when the woman had moved on and Yuki had returned with supplies, he said, “Jien, do you see her?”

“Who? Oh, the tiny one?”

“She’s an orphan. Nobody’s watching out for her. I don’t see any charm at her neck. She’s a likely victim.”

“She’s our bait, you mean.” Jien sighed. “I know we’re in a hurry, but I don’t like putting a child in danger.”

“She’ll be in worse danger if we have to leave without ending the problem. I’ll watch her tonight.”

Yuki scowled. “You’re thinking of shifting fox. Unacceptable.”

“As Jien said, we’re in a hurry.”

“We’re not in such a hurry we can’t wait for Sanae. She’ll be back tomorrow, perhaps even before we wake. No shifting.”

Akakiba blinked at the imperious tone. Arguing, he suspected, was unlikely to result in a positive outcome. He settled for, “Very well. No shifting.”

In the space of a breath, Yuki’s expression went from the lifted eyebrows of surprise to the mild frown of suspicion to, finally, the smile of relief. “Thank you.”

The smile made Akakiba feel guilty for the deception, but not so guilty he wouldn’t go forward with his second plan.

The village was comprised of no more than two dozen small houses, each already occupied. There was no room to accommodate three extra people unless they split up as separate guests, which was not an option under the circumstances. Sleeping outside was also problematic because of the plummeting temperature that accompanied the sun’s disappearance.

They ended up in the boat shed. It didn’t contain any boat, but there were plenty of nets, filleting knives, and other objects that presumably had something to do with fishing. Insofar as it provided shelter from snow and wind, it was an acceptable sleeping place.

Jien prodded the hardened dirt ground. “Ah, the glamorous life of a wanderer,” he said, settling down with, for a blanket, spare clothing provided by the villagers. “I wonder if Aito is worried about us.”

“His familiars can show him we’re well,” Akakiba said.

“True. Good night, you two, and don’t let the demon throw you off a cliff.”

“Are you insulting my charms?” Yuki said in mock-outrage. They wore them around their necks, little bits of carved wood on string. “See if I give you one, next time.”

“Touchy, touchy.”

Akakiba rolled to face the wall, pillowed his head on his arm, and waited for the others to fall asleep. Jien’s breathing grew deep and regular within moments. Perhaps Yuki had been waiting for that, because he inched closer until he was snuggled up against Akakiba’s back. The closeness wasn’t unwelcome, but it would have been more endearing if its ulterior motive wasn’t so obvious.

“I won’t shift and sneak away in the night,” he said irritably. “You don’t have to hold me down.” He wasn’t a complete idiot. His shifting powers were waning, grown unreliable. He shouldn’t risk one more shift, because he might never be able to shift back to human afterwards. He
knew
all that. But he’d never gone so long without shifting and it gnawed at him like a terrible hunger.

“That’s not it. I’m still cold. The water was frigid.”

Oh. He hadn’t considered the fact a dip in water in cold weather could be dangerous. Just because it didn’t seem dangerously cold to him, didn’t mean a human would be fine. Tugging his blanket free, he flicked it over Yuki. Then he reached back to capture a human hand and pulled it between his to judge its temperature.

“I said I was cold, not that I was dying,” Yuki said wryly. “Take back your blanket.”

“I’m fine.” He didn’t release the captured hand, tucking it against his chest. “Go to sleep.”

He waited longer than necessary, listening to Yuki’s breathing long after it had evened out into slumber. It was time to try the backup plan.

Bracing himself, Akakiba pushed outward. He expected resistance or pain, but got neither. One moment he was inside his body, the next he was outside of it. Ah ha! His shapeshifting powers might be dying, but he could still use this trick. Most interestingly, the charm around his neck didn’t keep spirits in, only out. The charm would have to come off when he came back.

He misted away hoping Yuki wouldn’t notice a thing.

He didn’t feel anything that might be called a pull, but that was likely because he was vastly less experienced in non-flesh-ness than Sanae was. Lingering in this state might be a bad idea. What if it weakened him further? The thought was unpleasant, but not enough to turn him back.

The little girl was easy to find, her house the only one standing apart from the village. The house’s large size would normally have been a sign of prosperity, but the entire structure leaned sideways and the roof sagged as if about to collapse.

Inside this dubious shelter, the girl was awake and building up a fire. She also seemed to be talking to herself. “I’m not scared of the monk, but I don’t like him. What if he comes to attack us? You have to stay away from him, Mother. I mean it!”

Was she talking to her dead mother? There was absolutely nobody else in the house.

Something stirred.

Akakiba learned several things in quick order. One: he was not the only spiritual being in the room. Two: he was not the bigger one. Three: being bitten non-physically
hurt
.

Akakiba bit back, tasting…nothing. No blood, no flesh. But he was holding something in his “teeth” nonetheless. Odd.

The bigger spirit shook him. For the first time in his life he knew what it was like to be a rabbit in a predator’s jaws. Ow. He couldn’t take this demon down, not in this form, but if he fled the child would be defenseless. Could he lure it away? Could he—

The child in question squinted at him, looking alarmed. “What is that? Kill it, Mother!”

Chapter Two

Sanae

T
oshishiro was always easy to find since he never left the temple’s grounds. On the spirit side, his soul spark shined so much brighter than the other monks’ that identifying him was as easy as finding the moon in a starry sky. Today, however, his spark was partially obscured by an equally strong one. A familiar one, too.

Sanae popped in.
What are you doing here, Domi? Is there trouble?

“Nothing to concern you,” Domi said.

Did Marin do something?

Domi sighed into his teacup. That was clearly a “yes.”

“The lady is causing some small mischief in town,” Toshishiro said. “She plays at gambling.”

“She cheats,” Domi corrected glumly. “She’s so happy with her ill-gotten gains she doesn’t want to go home. She wants to buy a house and hire servants to tend to me as if I were a prized horse.”

If Sanae still had a human body, she’d have burst into laughter at his dejected expression. As a spirit, it wasn’t overly difficult to metaphorically press a hand to her mouth to keep the mirth inside. Men were prickly. If you laughed at them, they were unlikely to believe anything you said after, even if it was good advice.

You deserve no less for tricking her
, she said.
You led her to believe your condition almost killed you; it’s normal for her to worry. Either tell the truth or be quiet and let her take care of you.

“You don’t understand. The rough types she gambles with may not have an overabundance of wits, but they’re bound to catch her cheating eventually. If we get a house, we’ll be easy to find. I don’t want to have to explain why we’re always throwing unconscious men out the door.”

I see how it would be troublesome. Tell her what happened and apologize.

“Perhaps.”

That didn’t sound like “perhaps.” That sounded like “I know you’re right, but I will continue to cling to my lie until the situation grows dire.” Men and denial…really.

Domi put his empty cup down and rose. “I’ll leave the two of you to your business. I need to ensure I haven’t acquired a house and servants yet.” After he closed the door, his footsteps retreated down the hall.

Toshishiro re-filled his cup with fresh tea. “I’d offer you a cup,” he said, “but it would seem a little silly. Tell me, how goes the god hunt?”

The ship landed, but nobody’s killed—or seen—any god yet. I can confirm there’s something over there, but I don’t know what it is. It feels hungry so I’d rather not get too close. I’ll leave it to the boys to investigate.

She didn’t like thinking about it, but it was an inescapable fact that she wouldn’t be able to accompany her brother and his friends all the way to their destination. Whatever was up there in the north, god or something else, it ate spiritual energy. Since she currently existed as a spirit, a being made of spiritual energy, she wouldn’t survive getting too close. She’d follow her boys as far as she dared, but after a certain point she’d have to wait and hope.

Toshishiro smiled, eyes crinkling. “It can be difficult to be left behind, but trust them to do what’s needful.”

I can trust them to do what’s needful, but I can’t trust them to go about it in a sensible way or without endangering their lives!
It was time for a change of subject before her mood grew worse. Worrying didn’t help.
Have you told the temple’s higher ups? About our god-slaying expedition in the north?

“What they don’t know can’t hurt them. If I told them, they would attempt to interfere. Aiko and Jien will do well enough without a senior monk trying to control their actions from afar. Isn’t it so, my dear?” He wasn’t talking to Sanae anymore, but to a spirit she could see twirling about his head. The answer, if there was one, was audible only to him. “Oh, you’re quite right.”

Sanae took her leave; she had others to visit before she could dash back north to see if her brother had managed to stay out of trouble. This far away, she couldn’t sense Akakiba, his life spark lost amidst countless others.

Next stop: the clan house. With her superior travelling method, it was right next door.

A tiny altar used to mourn lost family members was tucked in the corner of the first room she entered. In the very middle of the altar stood a painted portrait of a short young woman with vivid red hair. Her parents had placed the portrait there when they’d thought her gone forever, but hadn’t removed it after she resurfaced as a spirit. Sanae couldn’t discern what her feelings were on the matter. Should she be hurt? In a way, the girl in the portrait truly was dead. Sanae could barely remember bearing that face.

Turning away, she tracked down her parents in the next room. To be polite, she didn’t stay in her mist form but rather materialized as a sleek red fox. She was more vulnerable to attacks when she manifested fully, but she needed fear no one in the clan house.

Good evening, Father, Mother.

Her mother looked up from polishing her swords—rarely used, but tended well nonetheless. “Sanae! How is your brother?”

Still breathing. Nobody’s started a fight yet.
She would have liked to share her concerns about her brother’s dying shapeshifting powers, but the news would only worry them further. If she were to tell anyone, it should be Maru, the clan healer. If there was anything to be done, he would know. Yes, she really should have a word with him.

That is good to hear,
her father said, tail twitching,
but you should visit Takashi. It’s not proper to give us the news first.

Oh, how would he know?

I might tell him, you rude child,
a third voice said. The sounds were ageless and genderless, but she would have recognized that mind-voice anywhere.

Currently, there were only two members of the Fox clan who’d completely separated their mind from their body in order to continue living as pure spirits: Sanae and Grandmother Naoko.

Hello, Grandmother,
Sanae said cheerfully
. You’ve adapted well to spirit-hood if you’re already comfortable spying on people.

Who are you accusing of spying, you pup?

“Sanae,” her mother said. “Respect the elderly.”

I’m no longer elderly,
Grandmother Naoko said.
I’m dead. There’s no comparison, I assure you.

Her father deliberately scraped his claws against the floor.
Sanae, please. Go see the clan leader and report. We can converse afterwards.

Yes, Father.
She misted her way to the clan leader’s quarters in a straight line, completely ignoring inconsequential things like walls. They didn’t matter to spirits.

Sanae was noticed the moment she materialized in the room. The guards put hands to their swords but relaxed quickly, no doubt recognizing her aura. There weren’t all that many fox spirits running around.

“Sanae,” the clan leader said sharply. “News? Have you found a god?”

He wasn’t asking if she’d found
a
god; he was asking if she’d found
their
god. Humans worshipped Inari because she was associated with fertility and rice, but she didn’t belong to them. Inari favored foxes and that made her theirs.

We only landed today,
Sanae protested.
We’ve yet to uncover anything. It’s true there’s something strong and hungry in the north, but I can’t say if it is Inari.

Everybody in the room looked disappointed.

“Very well,” clan leader Takashi said. “Continue reporting as you can. The clan trusts you will solve the situation.”

The last time she’d been here to report—shortly before the ship departed—
certain people
had been absolutely outraged a mission this important would be in the hands of “a half-dead girl and her half-mad brother.” Now the clan “trusted” them? Ha! They must have reconsidered the wisdom of alienating the siblings who might be the first foxes to meet Inari in centuries. When they came back victorious,
certain people
would be at the mercy of her smugness. Such fun she would have!

Maru the healer was alone, sitting on the floor methodically grinding herbs in a stone bowl. He didn’t so much as twitch when she popped in.

“I do not believe I can do anything for you,” he said.

It’s for my brother. I’m sure you’ve heard about the energy-eating swords we found. Well, my dear brother managed to get bitten by them twice. The wounds weakened him but he didn’t get trapped in the shape he was in at the time. Instead he’s in a strange in-between state. He’s strong enough to force the shift, and weak enough that doing so causes him severe pain. Have you ever heard of anything similar?

Maru put down bowl and herbs. “Explain everything from the beginning.”

She recounted everything in exacting detail. Maru took notes, his brush moving fast and messily, and muttered words like “fascinating” and “impossible.” When she was done talking and he was done muttering, he said, “Your brother’s case is certainly unusual. Normally, a fox’s strength wanes in a slow and regular manner, until they become trapped. But these swords’ bite must tear uneven chunks of energy out of people. I would venture to guess it is akin to a psychic wound.”

Hope felt like a lovely sunrise, bringing light after darkness. Psychic wounds were invisible wounds to the mind or aura and they usually healed with time and rest.

You think he’ll heal? Completely?

“Not quite,” Maru said, “but his strength will redistribute to compensate, to fill the holes. If the bites were serious, the mending itself might cost energy. He might be able to shift without pain once the healing is done, but he might also be trapped in whatever shape he happens to be in at the time. Tell him he must not use his bleeding red ability. A single use might push him beyond recovery.”

Yes, but… If they’re going to slay a god, or something similar, he will need every bit of extra strength he can muster.

“He’ll have to make the same choice any older fox has to make when danger comes. Hold off, or use the strength and run the risk of losing all shifting powers. In his case, I suspect it’s not so much a risk than a certainty. If he disturbs his body’s attempt to mend properly, he almost certainly will not shift again.”

I see. I will tell him.

Maru could have been wrong. He’d admitted he’d never seen anything quite like this before. But he sounded so certain healing was possible. She wouldn’t withhold this hope from her brother, if only because it might encourage him to be cautious and let himself heal.

She enjoyed her parents’ company for as long as she dared. Always something whispered in the back of her mind that her brother was skilled at finding trouble when she wasn’t looking. Or, sometimes, even when she was.

Her last stop was the shortest.
Advisor Yoshida,
she said to the man poring over scrolls in a room lit with several lamps to combat the evening’s darkness.
Do inform the emperor that the ship has landed in the north. There have been no incidents so far. We will proceed onward.

Sanae left. That stop had been but a courtesy. And a warning, too, a reminder she could travel faster than the wind. If the Emperor or his men tried to turn against the Fox clan or hurt Akakiba, they had no hope of keeping the knowledge from reaching the clan through her.

Back north she went, quickly, quickly. Over such vast distances, she couldn’t use a familiar person’s life spark as guide. Instead, she traveled due north, popping in and out of the spirit world as she went. Forest, forest, village, forest, river, forest—sea!

She’d have expected to find fewer spirits in the sea than in the forest, but the opposite was true—the bottom of the sea was its own kind of wilderness. At least until she approached the north coast, where the spirits were fewer and larger. The small ones must have fled.

The first spark she identified was Aito’s, framed by three of his familiars. Ah, the fourth one was all the way over there, near Yuki, Jien, and Akakiba.

She popped into the physical world.
Aito, what is everybody else doing away from camp?

“They went to the village to gather information and stayed the night. I can tell they’re well.” Aito didn’t look at her as he spoke; he was busy pricking his skin with a needle dipped in ink. There was already enough ink under his skin to form a large blob. How odd.

Why are you tattooing yourself? I wasn’t aware you were a criminal.

Aito’s smile was a bolt of lightning, bright and ephemeral. “There are other uses. Look.”

One of Aito’s familiars seeped into the needle wounds. The ink began to move, edges shifting and stretching until the former shapeless blob was artfully shaped into a songbird. The bird hopped around much like a real one, free to wander under the skin.

It possessed the ink? How is it possible?

“Ink comes from plants. Spirits frequently find refuge in plants, since they’re less likely to object than living creatures with minds of their own. This ink, too, can be a refuge.”

Ah, I get it! If they’re under your skin, they’re protected from the god-thing that eats spiritual energy. Or, well, as protected as your own soul is.

“Yes. They wouldn’t let me go on alone, so I have to take them along.”

They will be able to get out again afterwards, correct?

“Of course. They wouldn’t like to be constrained forever.” Picking up his needle, Aito went back to prickling his skin. He’d probably need a great deal of ink to fit four familiars.

Hmm. I wonder if Yuki would let me ride under his skin?
She would never again try to body-share with Yuki, not after what had happened the first time, but this tattoo method seemed safe. She’d have to ask.

“Spirit!” a voice roared. Hachiro charged over like a mad bear.

I haven’t been spying on anyone,
she said automatically.

Ignoring her words, the big man thrust his hands forwards. There was a small, furry shape in them. “This creature is injured! I have heard you can perform healing!”

Why should I?

“I would regard it as a personal favor. Please.”

Sanae peered at the creature. It was a flying squirrel, with grey fur and huge black eyes.
What happened?