The Fox's God (6 page)

The father, angrily, “Why didn’t you correct her and say Seiji loves Hina instead?”

“And risk them discovering I lied?” the mother hissed back. “They’re not fools and I have no desire to have a ghost in my house!”

“At least the ghost would come with a dowry!”

“Never! You’ll have to repay your debts another way!”

Sanae relayed the conversation to her mother once they were outside.

“My,” Akahana said, “wasn’t it just insulting how quick they were to pick Sakura over a daughter of the Fox clan?”

Indeed,
Sanae said.
What kind of man wouldn’t like a ghost for a bride? It would save money on food and clothing.

“I wonder, will they dare invite us to the wedding? Will they dare not to?”

The giggling went on and on.

“Your father will not approve,” Akahana said, but she didn’t sound especially bothered by the prospect. “We did share important secrets with unworthy persons.”

Nobody would believe them if they went talking about the ghost fox bride.

They broke into fresh giggles.

I have to go, Mother,
Sanae said when she noticed the sun was low on the horizon.

“Watch over your troublesome brother for me.”

I will.

In the camp, Aito was sitting by the fire, using needle and ink to finish his fourth tattoo. The calm of the scene was proof nothing significant had occurred in her absence, but she still took a second to ensure the others were all in the tent.

Sanae watched Aito finish his work.
I need a shield of meat, too. I won’t be able to do anything from within somebody’s skin, but at least I’ll see what’s going on. Should I wake Yuki so we can get it done now?
Pausing, she looked at Momo.
Ah, there’s another option. How much do you like me, squirrel?

Aito looked up. “That might work.”

I’ll try it.

Momo apparently liked her enough to tolerate her inside his furry head. It didn’t feel unpleasant to be a squirrel, though it came with the feeling she was tiny and the world huge. She was also mute, a squirrel’s tiny tongue unable to make proper human noises. Waiiiit. A
tongue
. That meant a sense of taste.

Several frantic moments later, she’d successfully used tiny claws to sketch
kanji
in the dirt.
I want nuts!

If there had been sweet buns in the supplies she’d have asked for those first, but nuts would do. Nuts, she decided once she’d convinced Aito to give her several, were the best food ever. Momo agreed.

“You have watch,” Aito said when he finished putting out the fire. Moving carefully in the darkness, he disappeared inside the tent.

Sanae watched over the camp from treetops, moving from one to the next by gliding, all four limbs spread out to stretch the furry skin in between. It wasn’t true flight, but she was like a snowflake drifting lazily from the sky.

Death from above!
she thought gleefully at Momo, who didn’t understand anyway, as she launched off. Her target: the guards patrolling beneath.

She plopped down squarely on the right man’s head. He shrieked like he was being murdered, shaking his head so hard Sanae had to grip his hair in all four paws to avoid being flung off. Momo didn’t like it, and neither did she.

Two people stumbled out of the nearest tent.

“What is our danger?” Hachiro rumbled, sword at the ready.

Sanae chattered at him.

“Momo?” Hachiro laughed until he was bent over and wheezing. Straightening, he gently pried her off her perch and showed her to a tree. “Try not to terrify our guards any further, little one. I’d like to be able to sleep until morning.”

Oh, fine, she’d grant his request and leave humans alone. But only because he was kind to furry critters.

Another day on the road brought them closer to the problem area. Dead trees were now more common than living ones. Sanae curled unobtrusively in the back of Momo’s mind, leaving him free to do as he wished and climb into Akakiba’s clothes to sleep.

They were promptly evicted, Akakiba picking them up by the scruff of the neck. “You have to leave. This isn’t a safe area for you.”

He tried to put them down, but Sanae, taking over, clung to his clothes and tried to convey how very not amused she was.

I’m tired and Momo is tired and we want to sleep where it’s warm!
It all came out as squirrel chattering.

“I believe your sister is unhappy with the idea,” Aito said.

“My—Sanae! Get out of there!”

“She can’t,” Aito pointed out. “It’s not safe for spirits here.”

Sanae crawled back into the warmth of Akakiba’s clothes. He let it happen, but complained; “You could have told me about this before you did it! Why a squirrel? Why not a fox?”

Where would I have found one? I didn’t plan this in advance!
But he couldn’t hear her. Ah well. She went to sleep—she hadn’t experienced sleepiness in so long!—warm and content. If she could have spoken, she’d have asked,
Do you think many spirits take residence in wild animals? Nobody really looks at animal auras when they hunt.

She woke when they stopped for camp, and only because she’d dreamed someone was calling her name from far away.

Akakiba was frowning, looking in the same direction from which she could have sworn someone had called her name. Had he heard something, too? Strange.

The sole human woman in the company, Hachiro’s companion Sora, approached. “I would like to request we train together tonight,” she said. “I wish to practice against different fighters.”

Akakiba eyed her warily. “Did
someone
ask you to challenge me?”

“No, he didn’t. Fear not; you will not hurt me so easily.”

“The scribe won’t be pleased.”

“His fighting prohibition was not directed at me. I can fetch him for confirmation, if you like.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Sanae didn’t watch the fight. She’d meant to, but then someone started passing food bowls around and ohhh, there was fruit today! Dried fruit, but it was no less sweet under the tooth once she’d obtained a piece from Aito. The rice didn’t interest Momo, but the pieces of mushroom mixed in it did.

“I yield,” Sora said. She sounded strangely happy, for someone who was yielding.

“Well fought,” Akakiba said, breathing heavy.

“Men tend to underestimate me and claim they were going easy on me when I beat them. Not many push me hard. Thank you.”

“You should talk to my sister. She used to be a fair swordfighter, before.”

The woman’s brows knit together. “I thought you called her sister in a figurative way. Is she your blood sister?”

“Of course.”

“How—”

“You might ask her, one day.”

“I might,” Sora agreed, and left.

Akakiba settled down to eat; Sanae perched on the edge of his bowl at once. More mushroom!

“Go steal from somebody else,” Akakiba said after a while, shooing her off.

Sanae prodded Momo to make sad eyes at Yuki until he surrendered a piece of dry fruit and said, “Momo’s friendly today.”

Jien handed over a piece, too. “Maybe it’s because Sanae isn’t around for him to follow. She must have stayed back without telling us; I haven’t seen her today.”

Akakiba sighed, but didn’t explain. Neither did Aito.

Sanae munched on tasty, tasty fruit. Informing Yuki and Jien about recent developments could wait.

Chapter Six

Mamoru

I
f Mamoru could have had one wish granted, it would have been never to cross path with a fox samurai again. Good luck—and skill, he liked to think—had kept him alive through three such encounters, but otherwise none of these encounters had ended in what he’d call “success.” Not for his side, anyway.

It was unreasonable to expect his fourth fox experience to conclude in a better manner. Unfortunately, it was also unreasonable to expect his current master to take pity on him.

Which was why he was presently creeping along in the spirit realm and watching the soul-sparks of fox samurai he could identify. That one belonged to clan leader Takashi, this one to his advisor Kiba. Hmm, Kiba was heading towards Takashi. Should he risk crossing into the physical world to spy upon their conversation? It was the purpose of his presence here, after all, to listen in on potentially incriminating discussions.

The problem was that he wasn’t the only spirit person roaming the area. Sanae wasn’t present—the one time he’d glimpsed her, he’d run in the opposite direction for fear she’d identify him—but there was another fox without a body who patrolled the place assiduously. That fox was the biggest obstacle to his work. Not only might see detect him, she could also pursue him into the spirit realm. People called her Grandmother Naoko.

Where was she, right now? Ah, over there with the little sparks, the children.

He could risk listening in. He crossed over, unsurprised to find himself in the clan head’s quarters. The man rarely strayed far from this area, possibly because of assassination concerns.

“I wish I could have gone north myself,” Takashi, head of the Fox clan, said. “Waiting for news is difficult.”

I agree on both counts,
Kiba said.
But we’ve grown too old and slow for adventures.

Mamoru had known for a while now that members of the Fox clan could turn into foxes at will. But why some, Kiba among them, never appeared as humans was yet a mystery. Was it personal preference or a disability?

He listened with half an ear—a figurative one—until Takashi suddenly said, “What will we do if Sanae returns and tells us Inari lives? Preventing a cult from upsetting the world’s natural balance by resurrecting a long-gone god is good and just, but what if they have already succeeded? What could be gained by killing her?”

Ah-ha! Finally, they were going to talk about something important! He might have something good to report today!

You believe we should take Inari’s side, if she lives?
Kiba’s tail flicked back and forth, the meaning of which Mamoru tentatively put down as troubled or interested.
It is true it would do no good to try and fail to take her down. Only fools anger gods. But for all that we call her our patron goddess, we do not know if she would be our ally. Her life in this world is so far in the past I doubt our clan existed at the time.

“You’re right we can’t assume she would be well-disposed towards us, but we can hope she would be. I’m sure we can count on your daughter to seek an alliance, should the possibility arise.”

Ha. There’s no doubt whatsoever my daughter would be thrilled to befriend a god. Whether it would be good is another matter. She might take over the world.

Though Mamoru had heard one or two weird whispers about Kiba “daughters,” he’d found no proof there was a third child in the family. Not a living one, anyway. The daughter they spoke of must therefore be Sanae.

Mamoru waited for more, but the men were silent, enjoying their tea—the human drinking from a cup, the fox lapping from a bowl. Grandmother Naoko’s approaching spark compelled him to move on, drifting through the walls, through the garden, through the fortifications protecting the clan from attack. He moved slowly and steadily, pretending to be a regular, unthreatening spirit that just happened to be having a look at the physical world. There were plenty of other spirits for him to blend with because the forest around the clan house was thick with life.

Once he was a safe distance away, he faded into the spirit realm. It was like slipping under a lake’s surface, only the tiniest ripple betraying his passage. He knew, without quite knowing how, which way was home. Once he was closer, familiar sparks stood out—Usagi, right there in their shared quarters, and Advisor Yoshida in his private ones.

His body awaited him, seemingly sleeping. Nobody had come in and cut his throat while he was away. It might yet happen, but not today. He dove in, spreading out into a body that welcomed him. He cautiously stretched muscles left inactive for long hours and blinked until he’d reacquainted himself with physical sight.

In the other room, Usagi spoke with a servant who must have brought food, for there were several plates on the low table.

“Mamoru, finally! I was about to wake you.” To the servant, she said, curtly, “You may go.” The girl bowed and retreated.

There was rice, two types of fish, tiny bowls filled with pickled vegetables, plates of noodles, and plenty of
miso
soup. The food wasn’t cold, but getting there.

“Is it safe?” Mamoru inquired.

“That’s one of Advisor Yoshida’s trusted servants,” Usagi said. The unspoken but obvious meaning was “if he wants us dead, we’ll never escape.”

Their former clan was disbanded, the leader slain and surviving members scattered. It would have been distressing, except for the fact it meant he no longer had to fear that clan leader Yoshio would end him. Their new master Advisor Yoshida might yet chose to kill him because he knew too many secrets, but the man didn’t seem like someone who liked to waste useful tools. If he stayed useful, he should be safe. Assuming the foxes didn’t get him.

They ate, chopsticks darting from plate to plate.

Usagi watched him with unusual intensity. Before he could ask why, she volunteered, “You worry me, sleeping so much. You hardly ever leave our rooms. Are you feeling unwell?”

He couldn’t tell her the real reasons for his hermit ways. First there was the bodiless spying he performed for Advisor Yoshida. Second there was the danger of being spotted by a dragon; the Imperial Palace was overflowing with important persons who had one. What if they could tell he was half-demon? What if they alerted their masters or spat acid in his face? Being noticed in such a way would ruin his cover and Advisor Yoshida would be displeased.

“The cold wearies me,” he said, improvising. “I’ll feel better when summer warmth returns.”

Usagi didn’t press the issue, but the way she kept watching him eat was proof she didn’t believe the excuse. Did she think he was hiding a terrible illness? He finished every plate to prove his appetite was healthy.

“I should go,” Usagi said, rising. “I have men to entertain and encourage to drunkenness.”

“Be careful.”

“I will. Rest well.”

Leaving the dishes for a servant to recover, Mamoru padded over to Advisor Yoshida’s workroom. An attendant ushered him in. There were few servants here because Advisor Yoshida was somewhat paranoid about spies.

Advisor Yoshida looked up sharply. “News, Mamoru?”

“Some,” he said, kneeling. “I overheard the clan leader and his closest advisor discussing the possibility of allying with the goddess Inari, if she were willing. They believe the girl Sanae would be especially inclined to seek such an alliance.”

“I see.” Yoshida dipped his brush in ink, writing in quick, precise strokes.

Mamoru fidgeted. “Shouldn’t we take steps to stop them?”

“Why? We have also considered the possibility Inari might already be among us. If our men are too late to prevent her resurrection, they have instructions to attempt peaceful communication.”

“But she might prefer to work with the foxes. They could ally against us.”

Advisor Yoshida’s eyes lifted from his work to bore into him. “I understand the grievance you have with the Fox clan, but you cannot let feelings get in the way of your work. They are, at this time, allies. Your job is to look for proof of the contrary to ensure we are not caught unaware should something happen. If you hear of specific plans to turn against us, report so at once. But do not attempt to paint threat where there is none.

“At this time, there is no need to upset a delicate situation. If it comes down to battle, the foxes will be needed. We have three god-slaying swords and not as many worthy hands to wield them as we would wish. You understand we could not ask for help from clans with any sort of influence, lest they chose to divert the swords to their own use?”

“I understand the situation,” Mamoru said stiffly. “I will do my best.”

“No less is expected. Was there something else?”

Mamoru hesitated a moment. “Is there a way to keep Usagi busy elsewhere, or to move me to a different room? She thinks I must be ill, because I spend so much time inside.”

“Hm, yes, the girl. Her suspicions could be a problem. Do you consider her trustworthy?”

“Of course!”

“Tell her the truth and observe her. If her reaction is not the one desired, terminate her.” The man delivered the death sentence without so much as a note of regret in his tone.

Mamoru gaped. Kill Usagi? How could those two words even make sense? “I’m not qualified to make that call.”

“Would you prefer I do it?” Warning words, those. This was a test of him and Usagi both. One with lethal consequences.

He swallowed, bowed his head. “I’ll do it.”

“Very well. Go.”

Mamoru went, feeling like he might expel his meal all over the gorgeous wooden floor. He’d misjudged the advisor, badly. The man was just as dangerous and terrifying as Yoshio, not less. How would Usagi react? How could he make her understand she was in danger?

Delaying needlessly might be considered failing the test. Seeking Usagi out at her work would be too hasty, so he settled to await her return in plain sight. He nearly fell asleep on the table, mentally arguing his case over and over again. In his head, Usagi always understood, always reacted correctly, and everything was well.

She crept in so late it was almost early morning, a lamp in hand to light her way. Mamru lifted his head off the table with a jaw-unhinging yawn. “Those old men keep you up far too late.”

“The old ones go to bed at decent hours,” Usagi said. “It’s the young ones who annoy me.” Despite the hour, her eyes were bright. “Why are you awake? Is there a problem?”

Though nothing stirred in the building, Mamoru gestured for her to come closer. She settled at his side almost indecently close, whispering, “Danger?” Her eyes scanned the room.

“Not immediate danger,” he whispered back, trying to recall the perfect speeches he’d rehearsed in his head, the ones that helped Usagi-in-his-head understand everything. They eluded him; he’d have to make up a new one. “Advisor Yoshida ordered me to brief you on a situation Yoshio had forbidden me to speak of. Since Yoshio is dead, he can’t object. Don’t take it badly, please. It sounds scary, but it’s not.”

Usagi made noises of the “go on, I’m listening” variety. They were very interesting noises. Mamoru tried not to reflect on the fact she must spend a great deal of her time making those noises at the men she spied upon, encouraging them to talk while she refilled their cups over and over.

“I’m keeping to my room often because I’m doing special work for Advisor Yoshida.” He rushed the rest of the words out, hoping to finish before Usagi started calling him a liar or trying to stab him. “A while ago, Yoshio invited a demon into my body without my consent. It’s hard to explain, but we merged into one. Mamoru is still here, and the demon is still here, we just don’t know where one begins and the other ends anymore. Advisor Yoshida asks me, the new me, to leave my body behind and go spy as a spirit. That’s what I do.”

Usagi wasn’t making those encouraging noises anymore.

“It’s true,” he insisted, in case it was disbelief freezing her tongue. “I’m like the foxes are, you see? Half-human and half-not. It can be useful. I haven’t really changed.” She still wasn’t talking. “Usagi?”

“Since when?” she asked. “Exactly when did this happen?”

“Right after the leadership changed. We merged a little while later, after we’d gotten to know each other.”

“So everything you did recently… That wasn’t Mamoru, not really.”

She didn’t move, but he felt like she was leaning away from him. He scrambled to find words to reassure her, to bring her back. “Of course it was! Demons don’t have much in the way of personality, not like people do. This me is mostly Mamoru, enhanced.” That might have been a slight lie, but it also might not; he could hardly remember what it’d been like being two separate entities.

“I see.” She rose, moving for the door.

“Where are you going? Usagi, listen, don’t—”
Don’t panic, don’t do anything rash, don’t make him tell me to hurt you because I won’t and we’ll be in so much trouble.

“Advisor Yoshida sleeps little,” she said, stepping out. Their quarters were within Advisor Yoshida’s, separated only by sliding panels and a hallway. At least they wouldn’t encounter anyone who shouldn’t know they were out and about at this hour. Other than a handful of trustworthy servants, nobody else lived in this building.

Mamoru trailed her helplessly. Were they succeeding or failing the test?

Advisor Yoshida was at his worktable in the very same position as he had been when Mamoru had seen him hours ago. The only change from earlier was a plate of snacks left within reach.

“What is it?” He didn’t sound displeased; perhaps this visit was expected.

“Uncle,” Usagi said, respecting her cover story even when everybody present knew better. “What Mamoru has just told me, is it true?”

“Yes.”

“I see. I apologize for wasting your precious time.” She bowed and stepped back, but Advisor Yoshida stopped her with a raised hand. “Come in, the two of you.”

They did. Usagi didn’t look alarmed, but she could have been calculating escape routes just like he was. Fleeing the room would be the easy part. Next they’d have to dodge guards and find a way to get over the gates, closed at this hour. Maybe—

“What do you think of these revelations, niece?”

Usagi matched Yoshida’s bland expression. “They explain certain changes I had noticed in my cousin. I now suspect certain things about the true root of the clan’s problems.”

“Your suspicions are likely correct. Will this affect your performance in any way?”

“My assignment hasn’t changed.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Yoshida, for he asked no more questions of her, but what did she mean by it? Was she angry with him?

“Mamoru,” Yoshida said, “you’re fidgeting.”

Mamoru snapped straight. “I apologize.”

“You’re too emotional. I will consider moving you elsewhere so you may better focus on your own assignment.”

“Understood,” he said, withering inside.

He’d failed the test, whatever it had been. He didn’t ask where he’d be moved; it had better not be far away or he’d…he’d…what, refuse to go and get either eliminated or ejected from the palace? Convince Usagi to run away with him into a precarious life without clan or employer to support them? How could he hope to convince her of anything when she wouldn’t even look at him?

She might be in shock. Time to think it over might help. Maybe she’d smile at him tomorrow.

Or maybe she’d never smile at him again.