The Fox's God (9 page)

Chapter Ten

Yuki

T
hey moved together, getting Akakiba closer to the other sword-bearers.

“It’s useless to wait further,” Akakiba called out. “She’s mindless. We have to take her down.”

“Are you sure?” Yuki said, talking low. “She’s important to your clan.” It didn’t seem fair to kill Inari for what was essentially not her fault. She hadn’t asked the cult to deprive the land and its inhabitants of their life force.

Akakiba looked strangely guilty, but his tone was determined when he said, “There’s no choice. She’ll hurt more people if we don’t stop her.”

“Understood,” Hachiro said. “We three will fight her. Everybody else will form a line to defend our exposed backs.” He was only repeating tactics discussed earlier, but it seemed to settle the other men’s nerves to be reminded there was a plan beyond, ah, how had Jien put it? “Flailing around with pointy weapons and hoping for the best”?

It helped Yuki’s own nerves to see Hachiro and Sora were as blasé about the situation as Akakiba seemed to be. They were all willing to take on the giant, mad fox spirit.

“Everybody without a special sword should stay out of her reach,” Akakiba said. “Slicing up something this big will take time.” He side-eyed the other sword-bearers. “Don’t stab. Slice. The swords will eat what they can.”

Sanae hopped to Yuki’s shoulder and settled there, soft fur tickling his cheek. “Hey,” he said. “Pull my ear if there’s danger behind me I can’t see, okay?” He took her chatter as assent.

The three sword-bearers went off together. The giant fox was still trampling the temple’s ruins, as if offended by their existence. This activity had so far kept her too busy to attack them. Akakiba must have been right—there was no reasonable mind in there.

With Akakiba gone, it was him, Jien, and Aito standing together against the guards who circled like predators looking for a weak spot. Since everything was dead around, one might hope these men might not have much battle experience beyond simple training.

They clashed, blade to blade, in the morning light. The air was chilly, all the better to cool them when battle heated blood and flesh. Without consulting each other, the three of them edged aside until they had their backs to the dazzling afternoon sun and the enemy had to squint against it.

They fought and killed. The emperor’s men had joined the line on either side of them and celebrated every kill somewhat distastefully. At least they knew what they were doing. Against so many, the occasional slip happened. A cut here, a blow there. The scent of blood tinged the sharp air and its color spotted the snow that hadn’t yet been turned to mud.

“Yuki,” Jien panted. “Over there.”

He looked. Three enemies had gone all the way around their defensive line to creep behind Akakiba. He was alone, the other sword-bearers standing on the other side of the massive creature they fought. None of them seemed to have noticed the danger.

Sanae made an extremely unhappy noise.

“We’ll hold the line,” Jien said. He was favoring his right leg heavily and probably couldn’t have run very far. “Go.”

Yuki ran, feet pounding the ground. Sanae was flattened on his shoulder, claws digging into his flesh as she held on tight. A tremor ran through the ground now and then, as if it were trying to trip him, but he couldn’t afford to slow down. They couldn’t let the sword-bearers take injuries and he wasn’t willing to allow Akakiba to take even a scratch more than necessary. Else the idiot would bleed red and his sword might eat him alive.

The enemy was close now, almost ready to take their weapons to Akakiba’s unprotected back as he danced with Inari’s tails, his attention fully absorbed by their motion. One of them had a bow! The archer must not have been skilled, if he had to come this close to shoot, but it gave Yuki just enough time to—

As the bowman pulled the string, Yuki tackled him bodily to the ground. Screeching, Sanae flung herself at the second man’s face.

The third man was swift, and unfortunately competent. Metal wormed into Yuki’s flesh and stayed there even as he reached to return the favor.

The second man flailed, blood dripping down his face as Sanae mauled him. He threw her off, finally, and chose to stumble away rather than stay and face the mad squirrel.

Yuki’s free hand rose to touch the sword impaling him. This was…not good.

The blade had apparently gone all the way through, because it got pushed the tiniest bit backward when he lay flat on his back. The sharp pain filled his eyes with water. Removing the blade would worsen the wound, wouldn’t it? Maybe he could sit the rest of the battle out, watching the others fight.

Sanae chattered at him. She sounded angry, in a squirrelly way.

“It was an accident,” he tried to say. He looked at the sword again. It must have gone through several important bits of innards, considering the angle. It didn’t hurt as badly as he’d have expected, but breathing took effort, every breath snatched as if against his lungs’ will.

Sanae took off running. Yuki closed his eyes a moment, opening them to see Sanae leading her brother back to him.

Akakiba’s face dimmed as he crouched. “Yuki.” He touched the sword, eying it as if trying to calculate how far it’d gone in. “Sanae, is it safe for you to come out, now that the ritual is ended?” Hope drained out of his voice as he added, “I forgot. There’s no spare energy here to heal with, is there?”

Akakiba took his hand, a most peculiar look on his face. He looked like he might cry, something which probably hadn’t happened since he were five years old.

“My thoughts are rambling,” Yuki said, coughing. “Is that bad?” It was probably bad.

Sanae bloomed out of the squirrel, pooling into her customary five-tailed fox shape.
Why am I so stupid I didn’t realize I could come out now? Take the sword out, now now now! I’m healing and it’s in the way!

Akakiba yanked the blade out. It should have hurt, but didn’t. It merely tugged.

“Is there enough energy?” Akakiba asked. “Can you stop the blood? Flesh can be mended later.”

Brother,
Sanae said, tone gone painfully kind.
I’m made of spiritual energy. That’s all there is to use.

“Don’t you dare—” He stopped, drew a ragged breath. “The minimum. Then you stop.”

It’ll be okay.

She was already going faint, her shape nothing more than an outline. “Stop now,” Akakiba ordered. “It’ll have to be enough.”

Yuki stirred. A second ago, he hadn’t been
there
, mentally. Now he was back, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be. “I’m fine, I’m fine! You can stop!” The sword’s entry point was an angry, puckered hole in his flesh, but the wound was no longer bleeding, and he could feel pain again—a good sign, compared to the numbness from before.

Don’t be so impatient; this is delicate work! I don’t have an endless supply of energy to use! There are blood vessels to close, and this bit of muscle to fix, and—

Fainter yet, all but invisible.

“Stop now,” Akakiba repeated. “Obey your elders!”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Yuki lied. “Leave it be.”

I can’t, there’s still this left… Oh, curse it. I’m sorry. I’m running out. I’m—

“Just stop!” Akakiba snapped.

No answer.

Yuki sat up, searching for a hint of red. “Sanae?” Only silence answered. “Maybe she crossed to the spirit realm? Wouldn’t she be safer there?”

The mindless fox screamed, kicking at the two humans harassing it. Akakiba turned their way slowly, as if walking through deep water. “Rest as long as you need,” he said. The words were flat, as if expressing or feeling any emotion at this moment would break him.

Yuki stared at his wound. It looked terrible, muscle visible under the parted skin, but he could tell the real damage, the damage inside, had been patched. Sanae had fixed him, and vanished. Maybe she’d reappear after they killed the monster. She had to. He couldn’t contemplate the alternative, couldn’t afford to be struck useless by the possibility. She’d be back, and she’d laugh at them for worrying.

He rolled to his feet, pressing a hand to the wound as the motion tore broken skin a fraction further. He was almost grateful for the sharp and vivid pain, the way it anchored him into reality. He ignored the way the ground shook—again—in favor of looking round the field. His place was back at the line, keeping the remaining enemies away from the sword-bearers. He walked away while watching over his shoulder, admiring the way Akakiba and Hachiro took turns attracting the beast’s attention while the others moved in to strike. Sora was dwarfed next to the men, moving like a nervous critter, in short bursts; this way, that way. The spirit didn’t seem to know she was there.

He was still looking when the earth opened beneath Akakiba’s feet like a maw trying to swallow him. Sora, two feet away, dove to catch him; her free hand seized on something. With her sword hand, she stabbed her weapon blade first into the earth to serve as an anchor.

Hachiro bellowed at the fox wordlessly, drawing its attention away from the precariously perched pair.

Yuki reversed course, feet hardly touching the ground. Sora might be nimble, but she wasn’t a big woman and Akakiba was heavy. The ground was roiling as if trying to impersonate the sea, sending him lurching, but he somehow kept his feet.

Akakiba’s arms appeared over the edge; he was hauling himself up. He was fine, everything was—

The ground under Sora’s feet crumbled. She vanished from view, and so did Akakiba. Pulled down with the earth.

Too late, Yuki thought dimly as he finally arrived and looked far, far down. Akakiba was at the bottom, unmoving. The woman lay halfway down, caught on a tiny ledge. The white edges of bones protruded from her chest, dark blood running thick. She looked up at him, her lips moving without seeming to make a sound.

“I need rope,” Yuki said to no one, feeling oddly calm, as if this were but a dream. Where could he find rope? In the temple’s ruins?

“Rope,” Jien said, arriving out of nowhere with his arms full of uncoiled rope that he shoved at Yuki. Blood streaked his face from a cut on his forehead, giving him the look of a nightmare creature. He bent over to clutch at his bleeding leg briefly, hissing as he tightened the sloppy, strained bandage. “I’ll lower you.”

“Where did you find rope?”

“The guide found it for us; we had someone fall too.” He glanced down only briefly, as if unwilling to truly see who lay at the bottom. “Other guy didn’t fall as deep, though.”

Jien wrapped one end of the rope about his arm and shoulder; Yuki wrapped the other end about his waist. He half-climbed, half-fell down, using what handholds he could find to take weight off Jien’s shoulder.

When he arrived at the woman’s height, her arm jerked, moving the Soul Eater copy towards him. “Can’t rise,” she rasped, blood bubbling at her lips.

How could they possibly lift her up without killing her?

The truth was lead in the bottom of his stomach. They couldn’t do anything. Moving her would kill her faster, and they had no way of healing such damage either way. It would have been kinder for her to fall farther down, so she might have died on impact.

He wanted to stay and hold her hand; he wanted to tell her she wouldn’t die alone. But he couldn’t. If there was any chance Akakiba was still breathing, could be helped…

The ground started shaking again. When had it stopped? A whimper escaped the woman’s lips, then nothing. Unconscious, Yuki hoped. He couldn’t hope that she was dead; the crushed mess that was her chest was still moving.

He clung to the rock face, willing the quake to end right this instant. He was in a hurry!

The spirit screamed. The earth groaned and split. Jien was suddenly not there. The rope’s end slid down.

“Jien? Jien!”

“Busy!” Jien shouted. “Hold on tight!”

Were those fighting noises? Curse it!

Should he go up to help Jien, or continue down? He was closer to the top, but… He started moving downward, excruciatingly slowly.

One handhold crumbled under his fingers; he scrambled for another. His left foot was slipping too—if he fell, he’d break his neck. Who’d have time to come down for Akakiba, then?

A hand pressed him against the wall and a voice said, “I have you.”

Yuki yelped, heart well-near stopping from shock. “You’re alive!”

Akakiba’s eyes were red. His hair was red from root to tip. His skin was covered in red swirls so thick there was more red than there was normal colored flesh visible. They looked at Sora when they reached her; she was no longer breathing. Akakiba reached for the glyphed sword.

Yuki hissed, knocking Akakiba’s hand aside. “Don’t touch that when you’re red!” He took the sword himself.

Once up over the edge, he found Jien wrestling down a kicking priest, who was howling something about saving Inari from them.

“I’m getting too old to save the world,” Jien wheezed. “Sorry I dropped you. He hit me in the head with a rock!” The way Jien’s face lit up told Yuki that Akakiba had come over the edge, too. “Hey, Aki! I knew you were too stubborn to die!” His expression jumped to alarmed in a split second. “Uh, is that a rib poking out of you?”

Yuki whirled round. Yes, the white thing was the broken edge of a bone. “Sit down, it needs to be pushed back!”

Akakiba looked down as if only now noticing there was
a bone protruding from his flesh
. “It’s fine,” he said, pushing it back in place under his skin with the flat of his palm. “Are you hurt, Yuki? You look—”

“You’re asking
me?
Which of us fell off a height that would have killed well-near anybody else, and
then
climbed back up with a protruding rib?”

“Sorry.” Akakiba reached out and stole the lady’s sword from him. “I have to hurry. If it’s the last time I get to use this trick, I better make the most of it.”

Akakiba leapt across the chasm and ran for the monster, slicing and slashing and stabbing. He wielded both blades bluntly, hacking away at the fox’s paws while avoiding its wildly whipping tails. The blades’ mindless hunger seized on every bit of energy; the paws were shrinking with every slash.

Hachiro had vanished somewhere, perhaps to catch his breath, perhaps because he’d been knocked down. He rushed back into view, mouth open on a war cry. He seized and kept the creature’s attention, keeping it snapping at him and not at Akakiba.

The ground shook intermittently, occasionally fissuring under the sword-bearers’ feet as if hungry to complete its collection. They were keeping up, for now.

Yuki’s stomach hurt. He’d forgotten his wound, but it hadn’t forgotten him. He forced the pain out of his mind. He had to be useful. He had to do—something. He looked around, but there didn’t seem to be any fighting left other than Akakiba and Hachiro versus the spirit.

“The guards are all dead or fled,” Jien said from his position sitting on the struggling priest. “It’s up to them now.” He gestured vaguely towards the giant spirit, which was no longer giant. Still big, yes, but no giant. They were whittling it down. It was working.

Yuki didn’t have the energy to be pleased. It had to be exhaustion turning his wits to sand, because he only presently wondered—“Where did Aito go?”

“Oh, he’s maybe a little unconscious. They pulled him back with the wounded. He’ll be fine when he wakes from his nap.”

It was too much work to decide whether or not he should take Jien’s words seriously.

“He’ll collapse before he’s done,” Yuki decided, observing Akakiba at work. “I’ll go get him.”

He made his way around the chasm. He was
not
gambling his life on his ability to leap across.