Vixen's Magic

by Aron Lewes

  Kylin cried, “Denied!” and shuffled away with a grin on her lips.

  Chapter Seventeen

  RAI STUCK HIS HEAD through the carriage window and listened to the steady clop of horse hooves against the cobblestone. They were a mile from Larien's castle, en route to Laramie Abbey. Kylin's little brother was a pest, but Vala didn't want to leave him behind.

  As they trotted through a crowded marketplace, hagglers stopped to ogle the prince's fancy carriage. When Rai started waving to people, Larien grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled the boy back to his seat.

  “Keep away from the windows as we make our way through the city,” Larien advised him. “We might run into an Edmore sympathizer who would be more than happy to take a shot at you.”

  Rai asked, “What's an add more simple thighser?” In the time it took for him to get comfortable in his seat, he lost interest in waiting for an answer. Instead, he declared, “Human cities stink.”

  “I doubt your kitsune cities smell much better,” Vala argued. “Anywhere there's shit, there's bound to be a stench.”

  “We don't stay in one place too long, though,” Rai said. “When a place got too smelly or there wasn't a lot of food, we'd pack up and leave. Humans are stuck with their stink. They're packed in tight boxes and there's no way to escape.”

  Vala leaned back, crossed her ankles, and said, “You're talking to the wrong lady. That's why I have a ship. I've no interest in being cooped up in a box.”

  Larien peeled back one of the curtains to check their surroundings. They were out of the city, so he reported to Rai that it was safe to look outside—but the boy had moved on to staging a battle with toy soldiers.

  “When we reach Laramie Abbey, I want you both to wait in the carriage,” Larien whispered to Vala. “If and when I bring down the ax on my uncle's head, I don't want you around to witness that.”

  “So... you really think you'll kill him?” When her question was met with a shrug, Vala added. “I don't understand why you didn't let an assassin take care of it for you. My brother could have had it done and dusted.”

  “Using an assassin seemed so cold and impersonal. I didn't want to stoop to Edmore's level,” Larien explained. “I keep hoping we'll miraculously reconcile, or he'll make a convincing plea for his life. I honestly don't want to kill him.”

  “You might not want to, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't,” Vala said. “You're too honorable, Princey. It's gonna get you killed.”

  “Perhaps,” he agreed. “But I'd rather die with honor than live with regret.”

  They rode for hours, through lush groves and crimson poppy fields. Vala was so bored by the end of their trip, she succumbed to playing with Rai and his toy soldiers. He enjoyed his new playmate until she made two of his soldiers fall in love. Love had no place in his games, so he banned her from touching his toys.

  “My lord, this is a long ride,” Vala complained. “You should've warned me.”

  “It is... but I believe we're nearly there.” Larien's fingers were shaking as he grasped the hilt of his sword. “You really don't think I should be merciful?”

  “You should be whatever you want to be,” Vala said. “But don't forget... I was hired to kill you. Your uncle didn't let mercy cloud his judgment, did he?”

  AS THE CRUMBLING WALLS of the once-magnificent Laramie Abbey crept into view, Wilhelm slowed his horse and motioned for the others to do the same. The massive ruin was a gutted shadow of its former glory. Twisting vines had gobbled up one of its walls, and its roof was lost a century ago. Even in its dilapidated state, the abbey was an impressive place, and remnants of elaborate architecture still lingered on its windows and buttresses.

  Wilhelm dismounted his horse and lifted Edmore from his. The old man felt so light in his arms, it was as if his bones were hollow.

  “It looks like your nephew is already here,” Wilhelm said, directing his captive's attention to a distant carriage. “Should we have stopped to buy him a gift? Maybe a pretty vase or box of chocolates would convince him to spare your life?”

  Edmore said nothing, but his captors expected no less than total silence. Even Kylin stopped trying to get a word out of him, and she was friendly to everyone.

  “Kylin, do you want to wait outside?” Wilhelm asked. “I don't know if someone as softhearted as you should be around for this reunion.”

  “I can handle it,” Kylin said. “But if it gets too bloody, don't be surprised if I hide behind my hands.”

  Edmore's bound wrists were attached to a rope, which Wilhelm tugged to get the old man moving. As they shuffled toward the abbey, the assassin asked, “Do you have any final requests, Eddie? Maybe you'd like a kiss from a pretty girl?” He flicked a thumb at Kylin.

  “Are you asking me to kiss Prince Edmore?” Kylin shrieked.

  “Only if it was his last wish. You couldn't deny him that, right?” Wilhelm joked. “If I was heading to my death, a kiss from you would be my last wish.”

  Esha, who was trailing a few paces behind Wilhelm, cleared his throat as loud as he could. He disapproved of the conversation, and he wanted them to know it.

  Wilhelm continued, “Of course, we don't know that Larien will definitely kill old Edmore. If he's kind enough to spare me, he might be kind enough to spare you, so... keep your chin up.”

  Unlike Larien and his soldiers, Wilhelm's group approached the abbey from behind. The rear entrance was clogged with rubble, so they entered through a crack in the wall. As they made their way inside, their footsteps were silenced by a carpet of moss that covered the abbey's stone floor.

  Larien and his soldiers were waiting in the nave, immediately inside the abbey's front door. They didn't notice their guests until Wilhelm spoke.

  “Your Highness,” Wilhelm's voice echoed when he addressed the prince. “As requested, I've brought your uncle. Once he's been dealt with, I assume you'll release my sister?”

  Larien's face paled, and for a moment, no one said a word. When Larien found his voice, it was weak. “That's not my uncle,” he said.

  Wilhelm's eyelashes fluttered, and it took him a moment to respond. “Pardon?”

  “That's not Edmore!” Larien screamed—and he had to scream, or his men might not have heard him over the whistle of three hundred arrows, sailing into the abbey. Prince Larien was tackled by three of his soldiers. They threw themselves on top of him, protecting their prince from the deadly volley.

  With seconds to spare, Wilhelm threw Kylin against the nearest wall and shielded her with his body. As the rain of arrows poured down on them, he cupped her cheek and whispered, “This is the only good thing I've ever done.”

  Kylin muffled a scream when she saw an arrow sticking out of Wilhelm's shoulder—but she couldn't see the worst of it. Countless arrows had plunged into his back, and it wasn't over yet. A second storm of arrows, loosed by an unseen enemy, whistled into the sky.

  Wilhelm's body wanted to fall, but he made himself stand. As long as he was on his feet, he could be the shield that protected Kylin. He closed his eyes as the deadly cascade rained down, and more arrows pierced his flesh.

  Kylin was hysterical when Wilhelm finally dropped. She collapsed on the ground beside him, cradling his head in her lap. “Come back!” she cried. Her blurry eyes counted the arrows sticking out of him. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. There were at least a dozen arrows, buried deep in his body.

  “Come back!” she screamed again. She peeled back his eyelids, to see if there was any life inside of him.

  There wasn't.

  Wilhelm was gone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  KYLIN TRIED TO CALL Wilhelm back to his body. She pressed her hands, warmed by magic, against Wilhelm's pale cheeks. Her eyes turned red, and she whispered again and again, “Come back, Wilhelm. Please, please come back...”

  Deep down, she knew her efforts were useless. She couldn't force a soul into a body that had been ravaged by a dozen arrows.

  Kylin nuzzled Wilhelm's chest and cried quiet
ly to herself, soaking him in tears. She tugged one of the arrows, buried deep in his back, but she could barely make it budge. Even if she removed every arrow, it wouldn't make a difference. His body lost too much blood, and his wounds would still remain. There was no way to save Wilhelm. Somehow, she had to accept that.

  Kylin's head snapped up from Wilhelm's chest when she heard footsteps approaching, followed by a frantic yip. Esha, in fox form, was hiding under a fallen statue, trying to get her attention. Voices accompanied the footsteps, and they were getting louder. Before she was spotted, Kylin changed forms and squeezed herself under the statue with Esha.

  The loudest voice shouted, “Dead or alive, we need to find Prince Larien. Check all of the corpses. He should be here somewhere.”

  “What if the bastard managed to escape?” asked a second voice.

  The first voice replied, “There's no way. Our attack was too well-timed. There's no way he would have seen it coming.”

  Kylin's orange ears pricked as she listened to the conversation. She crawled halfway out of her hiding place, hoping to see the speakers, but she saw only their shadows moving across the floor.

  “This is a lot of bodies,” remarked one of the men. “I don't think I've ever seen so many corpses in one place.”

  Someone in the abbey replied, “I think it's beautiful. Even if my nephew did survive, he won't recover from a blow like this.”

  “What happened to the body double?” asked a gruff, male voice.

  “He's dead... but don't feel sorry for him. He knew he was a sacrifice when he signed up for the job.”

  Kylin could feel her tiny heart thumping beneath her chest. Even in fox form, she was so nervous that every breath was a labor.

  “We found him! We found Larien!” cried an echoing voice.

  “Is he dead? Where was he?”

  “He was near the entrance, buried under a pile of his men. He's unconscious... but still alive, if I'm not mistaken. Should we kill him?”

  “No. I have other plans for him. Drag him outside, and let's leave this place. These dead bodies are giving me shivers.”

  A few minutes later, when the voices and footsteps receded, Kylin left her hiding place, returned to human form, and crawled back to Wilhelm's corpse. Her tears returned as soon as she saw his lifeless face. She lifted his head into her lap, cradled his cheek, and hummed a lullaby. She was so lost in her own mind, not even the sudden sound of Esha's voice could startle her.

  “You should have joined me under the statue when the arrows came down,” he said. “But... I guess it wouldn't have mattered. Wilhelm would be dead either way.”

  “He shielded me,” Kylin mumbled. “He protected me.”

  Esha said nothing else. He sat cross-legged on the floor, watching his Chosen's tears.

  She brought her face to Wilhelm's ear and whispered, “Come back.” She smoothed back his hair, kissed his forehead, and tried again, “Come back... please.”

  Kylin's constant, falling tears dampened Wilhelm's face as she leaned over him. She kissed his nose, his cheeks, and finally, his lips. With her mouth against his, she whispered, “Come back.” She hoped her desperation would make a miracle, but no spark of life ever returned to Wilhelm's eyes.

  The abbey's front door burst open, and a familiar voice cried out, “What happened? What the bloody hell happened?”

  It was Vala. Kylin closed her eyes and continued to cradle Wilhelm's head in her arms. She didn't want to see Vala's face when she saw the body.

  Esha hopped up to greet the abbey's latest visitors. One of them was Rai, who saw his sister's tears and staggered backward.

  “There was... an ambush,” Esha said. “We thought we were taking Edmore to Prince Larien, but we had... an imposter, I guess. I barely had time to figure out what was happening before a thousand arrows rained down on us. Literally a thousand. I was lucky enough to find a place to hide, but the others...” Esha pointed at a mound of corpses—but Vala's eyes were on her brother.

  “Is that... Wilhelm?” Vala asked. As she shuffled forward, toward her motionless brother, her voice was flat and frigid.

  Kylin's eyes were still closed, and she couldn't bring herself to speak. She nodded solemnly and caressed Wilhelm's cheek.

  “He's dead?” Vala crouched over her brother's body. She pressed two fingers into his neck, checking for a pulse. Feeling nothing, she hopped up and turned her back on Wilhelm's corpse. “Where's Larien?” she asked.

  Kylin's eyes opened halfway, because they were too heavy with grief to open fully. She whispered to Vala, “Is that all you're going to say?”

  Vala repeated with a growl, “Where's Larien?”

  “Someone, presumably the real Prince Edmore, entered the abbey and carried him away,” Esha replied.

  “Real Prince Edmore,” Vala grumbled the words. “If you captured an imposter, he was probably bloodmarked. After what happened with Prince Larien, my fool brother should have been more careful.”

  “We were all fools,” Esha said. “I should have been more careful too. I didn't think Edmore would use the same tactics as Larien. I—”

  Vala's hand shot out, snatching a fistful of Esha's shirt. “Where's Larien? Where's his uncle taking him?”

  Esha stuttered, “I-I-I don't know. I honestly couldn't say.”

  “Make a guess,” Vala demanded. “Aren't you telepathic or something? Get into Larien's head and find out where he is!”

  Esha freed his shirt from Vala's grasp, took a step backward, and smoothed the wrinkles that were made by her hand. “I'm afraid it's not as easy as that, ma'am. Larien is currently unconscious, but even if he wasn't, I assume he's currently in transit and—”

  Vala smacked the wall and screamed, “Tell me!”

  “They're probably returning to Edmore's villa!” Esha shouted. “Mind you, that's only a guess. They could be anywhere!”

  Despite Esha's uncertainty, Vala looked satisfied by his answer. With her hand on her sword, she hurried out of the abbey, leaving her dead brother behind.

  Chapter Nineteen

  KYLIN FINALLY STOPPED crying. When the sunlight caught her face, Esha could see faint streaks on her skin, where salty tears had carved a path along her cheeks. She was so still, she barely blinked. She almost looked dead herself.

  Rai had been floating around the room, counting arrows and pickpocketing corpses. There were so many dead bodies scattered around, he had plenty to collect. He found several coins, random keys, and a few fancy pocket watches. He even found half a sandwich, but it was covered in the blood of the soldier who carried it, so Rai tossed it.

  He was tired of waiting for his sister to recover, so he sat beside her and asked, “Are you going to be alright?”

  Kylin's unblinking gaze drifted down to Wilhelm's face, and she slowly shook her head. Her mouth was gaping, because she couldn't breathe through her nose. Her constant tears had clogged it.

  “I'm sorry about Wilhelm,” Rai said. “I didn't know him as long as you did, but he saved me, and I'll always be grateful for that.”

  When Rai tried to share his coin collection with Kylin, Esha said, “Picking the pockets of dead men is morbid, you know.”

  “No, it's not!” Rai defended himself. “They're not going to need these coins anymore! Why shouldn't I have them instead?”

  “At least you didn't steal any wedding rings... or did you?” Esha asked.

  “No. But I should!” Rai hopped up, unfazed by Esha's criticism, and went back to pillaging corpses. He checked hands for rings and wrists for bracelets.

  “Your brother is surprisingly unbothered by all this death,” Esha observed. “I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.”

  “Bad,” Kylin decided, ending her long silence. “You know how our people feel about corpses. We respect them. Rai is definitely not respecting them.”

  “Well, it isn't my place to reprimand him... if he even needs a reprimand.” Esha's arms crossed as he watched Kylin's brother wiggle a ring
from a young man's hand. “If nothing else, at least he's not traumatized by this. Quite the opposite, really.”

  “I am traumatized,” Kylin whispered.

  “I know. And I'm sorry,” Esha said. “I don't know what I could possibly say that wouldn't sound like an unoriginal platitude, but if there's anything I can do...”

  “I'd like... to bury him.” Kylin drew a deep breath after she made the suggestion. A burial seemed so irreversible—but what else could she do? She tried everything to bring him back, but Wilhelm's body was too badly damaged.

  “I'm sure this is stating the obvious, but... he was important to you, wasn't he?” Esha asked.

  “Very important,” Kylin confessed. “I didn't realize how much he meant to me until he was... gone.”

  Gone was a difficult word to utter. Her heart was pierced by the crushing finality of it.

  “Do you think you were in love with him?” Esha asked. “I know I'm your Chosen, so this might be a difficult thing to admit, but I want to know the truth. Pretend I'm not your Chosen and answer honestly.”

  Kylin hesitated a moment, then answered with a nod.

  “So... you were in love with Wilhelm,” Esha said. “I had my suspicions, but I didn't want to accept it.”

  “Are you angry?” Kylin asked.

  “How could I be angry with you now, when you're so heartbroken and sad? I would be a terrible man if I was.” Esha's lips pursed as he studied the arrows in Wilhelm's back. “I should think of him as a rival, but... I don't, and I certainly never wanted him dead. In fact, I feel partly responsible. I should have known the body double wasn't Edmore. I only saw him a few times, and it was always at a distance, but still...”

  “It's not your fault,” Kylin said.

  Pacing around the room, Esha rambled, “The man was practically Edmore's twin! But Larien knew it right away, didn't he? He knew we didn't have his uncle, so why didn't I know? We should have checked his body for a bloodmark. Why didn't I think to do that? If I had been using my head... if we would have done things differently, I—”