by Kris Schnee
The water-repelling seabed took over. Tons of water that had been falling right toward the point of strongest effect were suddenly bouncing back up like a slingshot, spraying up along the stricken ship's hull, forming a short-lived support beneath it and shoving the wood up and outward. Men on the ship gaped down at Dane, flailed for balance, then cheered as their ship finally got just enough purchase to pull upright and begin getting hauled away from danger.
Dane sank to her knees, drained. As the hull above moved away, a sliver of moonlight shined down on the seabed, outlining her fur in silver. Dane heard distant cheers, but all she wanted to do was rest for a moment. Her magic-sense showed the Weave wobbling crazily from the disruption. Finally, she stood up and vanished into the eastern cliff to swim back to shore.
* * *
Governor Connor paced in his office. "Thank you for your service to the Empire."
Dane had been hauled in for a meeting before she even finished drying off. Her fur still dripped on the governor's floor. "I did what I could."
"It was enough. What's your name?"
"I... would rather not say."
The governor poured himself a glass of water. Dane flinched. Connor grinned. "I thought so. I won't demand to know outright, but let me tell you: I'm authorized to grant pardons for those who save the lives of Imperial personnel. We had some important officials on that ship. If you were the 'castaway' I met not long ago, and if you admitted it, I would grant you a full reprieve for 'accidentally' leaving naval service without permission."
Dane gulped. "A pardon?"
Connor leaned against his heavy desk. "You'd be able to go home. I don't know if it's possible to undo this curse that's been laid on you, as our officials call it, but I'd send along a letter requesting that you be turned back if at all possible. Maybe you'd be the test case."
"Would I be sent back to the navy?"
"Eh. I'm sure there are civilian positions we can arrange for. If they already had you jump ship once, what captain will want you aboard?"
Dane's mind whirled. She could go back and undo the life she'd started to build here. There could be a proper house in her future, a respectable career in a civilized land, a wife, her old face in the mirror. Back in the seaside town where she'd been forced into service, she could visit her old haunts, meet her human friends again, and be among people she understood. The only price was to give up what little she'd accomplished here.
"Is it really a hard decision?" Connor said.
"Governor, why did you accept a job here?"
"Stupidity. I thought it would be an easy posting where I could lord over a bunch of fuzzy idiots and make money for sitting around in tropical shade, watching other people work. As it turns out, the Hikkoi Islands are rather more complicated. They're potentially a great asset to the Empire, including the people."
Dane nodded, looking around at the mix of imported finery and local crafts that adorned the governor's office. "I... I think I'm starting to understand this place," Dane said. "This is a new life for me, but it's not a bad one. Maybe I can be useful here."
The governor smiled and offered his hand. "Well, then, I'll need to reward you some other way. Money, I suppose. I may call on you again to keep me informed about goings-on among the natives, too. You're one of the few bridges between the cultures, and we should both make the best of that."
Dane shook his hand like a human, then bowed in the way he'd seen some of the locals do.
* * *
The next afternoon, Kirani met Dane by her beachside hut. With her were an otter-man Dane didn't recognize, and Arn the fisher.
Arn said, "Congratulations on being a hero!"
Dane hugged him. The fisher was warm and musky, and eagerly held onto her for a little while. "Let's get going. I have money to burn." She hefted a jingling pouch of coins, a first installment from the governor. "Dinner's on me, and I want to do some shopping."
Kirani teased her, "So you're finally going to quit dressing like a shipwrecked sailor?"
"It's about time, yes. There's a lot to think about later, but for now, let's have some fun."
The four of them strolled along the beach together, talking and swaying their tails, then swam in search of a pleasant evening.
The Doe Festival
Beside her in the warm shop, Liren said, "Really, you look fine. Ready to change back?"
The girl Chie Ai stood on all fours in the shape of a tan buck with golden brown fur. She turned her long face sideways to get a look in the iron mirror that hung on the workshop's wall. She frowned at her reflection, from the delicate hooves that had replaced her hands to the pointy, bony little antlers pressing down between her ears. She nodded. Liren tapped her with a lump of iron.
Chie's sight sharpened, gaining colors she had forgotten how to see as a deer. The intense earthy smell of the hearth faded from her weaker nose. Her shifting senses helped distract her from the pain of her bones and muscles reshaping, a slow and jerky process whenever she'd tried out this terrible choice of species. At last it was done and she was able to stand up again on human feet. Liren handed back her pale green robe. Though she was finally an adult and trusted to fish like her parents and their parents, Chie was still scrawny, and often got mocked for having callused hands.
"I can't go to the hunt like that. Everyone will laugh." Chie pulled the robe back on and stared at the creaky wooden floor.
Liren said, "It's no fault of yours for being born in a Horse month."
Sure, Chie couldn't be blamed for being born on exactly the opposite side of the zodiac from the Deer month, making it especially tough to turn into a deer, but it was humiliating. Why couldn't the village have a rat or ringtail party instead? She could become either of those more easily, and without the side effect of also ending up the opposite sex.
Chie scowled at her friend. "Didn't you skip it when you were my age?"
She smiled back. "Not for the same reason. I was sick that day, and not because of a particular hunter I was hoping to avoid." She'd ended up marrying him last year.
"I just won't go, that's all. Do you have more of that tea?"
Liren poured a hot, steaming cup for her, and Chie passed it back and forth between her hands. It was nice not to have hooves. Liren said, "The Festival is for everyone's enjoyment, not just you and the gentlemen. How would your family look if you played sick or left some boy without a catch?"
"There must be some way to save face. I've got the rest of today to think."
"Don't give up, all right? You'll have a good time even if you stand out a bit."
Easy for her to say. Liren wouldn't be the one "standing out". Chie left her friend's shop at a jog, kicking up sand with her toes. The endless tide nearby, where she'd spent too many hours playing sneakily with the family fishing nets and scaling knives before being formally trained with them, calmed her frustration. She turned toward the water to feel the wind on her face and look away from the forest.
A shrill voice argued inside Kan Ma's house, a stone's throw from Chie's home. Chie gritted her teeth. Kan had a visitor. Chie tiptoed over to the slit in the paper-covered window and peeked through to see Wuling seated on a straw mat with him. The girl was stuffing her rouge-doused face with rice while telling a long, unfunny joke between mouthfuls. Chie grinned at how Kan sat rigid and obviously wanting to flee. He saw her and shrugged helplessly.
Wuling stopped in mid-bite. "Who's there?"
Chie hurried around a corner and heard the girl clomp outside to search.
"It's nothing, just a bird outside," said Kan.
"A bird isn't 'nothing.'" Wuling rounded the corner and found Chie hidden beneath the house's wooden supports. "Aha! Come out, mud-lark. Why are you spying?"
Chie came out grumbling. "None of your business."
Kan said, "She wasn't spying, just stopping by. Chie, can we —"
Wuling got between them. "Kan, your father promised you'd come with me for a walk after lunch." She took Kan's arm as sweetly as
possible and stuck her tongue out at Chie, adding, "Forget it, fish-gutter. It's destiny."
Kan was red-faced and obviously about to object, but he bowed hastily to Chie and went with Wuling.
Chie stomped back towards the shore, where her house and a dozen others perched on wooden legs. She tripped and got sandy soil all over her robe. Damn it! She picked herself up, marched to the waterline where waves lapped her sandals, and stuck her scraped hands into the stinging saltwater. She mumbled a prayer to the water spirits and sat on the wet sand.
If she showed up for the festival, she'd be a buck instead of a doe, and then everyone would laugh and no one would bother trying to chase her. Worse, Kan Ma happened to be a fellow Horse-month, making him perfectly auspicious for Wuling (a Deer-month) and perfectly wrong for Chie. So there was a betrothal already. Ugh!
A hand landed lightly on Chie's shoulder. Chie looked up and saw Liren through blurry eyes. "What can I do?"
"About the festival?"
"I already said I won't go. I mean, what can I do about Kan and Wuling?"
"Your parents will find you someone. And if you go tomorrow, someone will still catch you." She gave a Fox-month grin. "Every year my brother would use his festival-wish to demand a free meal from whoever he caught. You can cook, right?"
"Fish and rice and vegetables." Her parents had demanded that she learn, and she'd been too dutiful to object to taking lessons in something so dull but useful. Chie frowned and stood, making sand shift underfoot. "Is Kan's father in the woods today?"
"Yes. Why?"
Chie was already jogging away. "I need to tell him the truth."
* * *
Trees owned the northern shore. Tangled mangroves in the water gave way to beeches that sent shadows rippling all along the ground. The woods, on this last day of winter, rang with hand-bells and wooden clappers. She followed the noise and found the village men scaring off demons. One of them was in the shape of a bear, in case any monsters proved to be more tangible than the kinds that amulets and holy noise-makers kept away.
The dark and powerful bear was Kan's father. Chie approached him, feeling her heart beat faster from getting within range of those massive claws and teeth. She said, "May I speak with you?"
The bear grunted and nodded his head, then walked away. The other men kept up their noise-making except for one who went with him to bring him some clothes. A little while later, Kan's father returned as a man with hands and feet like the anvil he worked on most days. "Miss Ai! Hello."
Chie fell to her knees and kowtowed. "Sir! I can't stand keeping silent about this any longer. Your son doesn't love Wuling. He's so honorable that he's afraid to complain. Please don't force them to marry."
The big man blinked. "Don't grovel to a poor man like me. I don't put much stock in the stars when it comes to marriage, but I'm told Kan and Wuling are matched. And Miss Wuling's uncle is a rich clerk. I want my boy to have a dowry."
Chie stayed kneeling. "Sir, I can't promise you silver and gold, but I'll work for you. I'll be your horse and carry wood for you, or a wolf to help you hunt."
"Kan and I are the horses when we need them. You mustn't debase yourself. Anyway, I made a promise to Wuling's family. I'm sorry."
Everything in the world was against her. She wanted to hit something, but that would be pointless too. Instead she went running. She'd have done it as a horse, if there were a way to bring her clothes. She jogged in sandals with her robe pulled tight, pounding the dirt beneath her. The wind whipped by her as it did through her mane on longer runs, on happier days.
And since today was horrible, of course she ran into Wuling, hard, before even noticing her. Wuling staggered and put a hand against her back, feigning injury. "You scrawny crayfish!"
"I didn't see you."
Kan hurried over to make sure Wuling was all right, frowning at her moans.
Wuling said, "She hit me! Kan, why won't you stand up for me?" She got in Chie's face and they were about to hit each other.
Chie felt Kan's hand clamp her arm, and he pulled her and Wuling apart. "Stop it, both of you!" He stared with big brown eyes at Chie, unnerving her, and at Wuling, driving her half a step back.
Wuling's voice faltered. "She should just accept it. She used to be so friendly... and your family needs our help, Kan."
Chie didn't know what to say. It had to be more manipulation by that girl; she hadn't stopped taunting Chie about the engagement since it happened. Not outright, but by always being around Kan, always laughing. Chie gritted her teeth and said, "Kan doesn't like you. At all."
"Shut up!"
"Whether I do," said Kan, restraining the girls, "doesn't matter. I've got an obligation. Please, both of you, just go home and let me think. I'll see you tomorrow."
Chie grimaced at the mention of the festival, but then an idea came to her. Kan seemed to read her sudden grin; a shocked look crossed his face for a moment. He released them and the three of them scattered, lost in thought.
* * *
That evening, Chie entered Liren's house. The woman sat playing one of the blood-lutes her family sold to distant noblemen. Under Liren's strumming the sound came out repetitive and tense. Chie said, "I need a hunting bow."
The music kept going as Liren saw her. "You can't be serious."
"Whoever catches a girl gets to make one demand, right? The rules don't explicitly say that the hunters must be the boys. All I have to do is force Wuling to break off her engagement."
"That's a cruel wish! Besides, you'd have to sneak into the forest so people won't ask questions —"
"I can do that."
"And find Wuling?"
"I'll just look for the fattest, meanest deer."
Liren fox-grinned, quickly hiding it. "Chie, you're serious about this? It's likely to end in tears, whether or not anyone thinks Wuling is bound to honor your wish."
Chie nodded resolutely.
Liren sighed, then vanished into a storeroom. She returned with a bow and padded, round-tipped arrows. "These are my brother's."
Chie hefted the smooth, light wood and the quiver. "Thank you! Will you watch the hunt tomorrow?"
"Of course."
* * *
That night Chie crept out of the house without transforming. No one was watching at this hour anyway. She walked into the woods carrying the bow and arrows, stirring chilly mist with every step. Only crickets and frogs broke the silence here. If the forest was ever safe it ought to be tonight, right after the ritual cleansing, but she still held the bow tightly. She imagined that firing it would be like the tug of a weighted net. She made a note of how she'd reached this spot, picked out a tree, and stashed two sets of clothes at its base. One would be for her quarry. While she was here she made a few tentative practice shots with the blunt arrows. She blushed at how terrible her aim was, and how hard it was to pull the string back, but at least she'd made her first few mistakes in private. She took a deep breath and tried again until she could hit a tree at close range and without having the bowstring whip painfully across her chest. At last, she hid her weapon with the clothing and a piece of iron, and crept back home.
She entered quietly and went to bed with no risk of falling asleep. In her head she practiced archery and the striking of pesky deer. Each time she rose to check the sky it seemed no closer to dawn. When she could stand the waiting no longer, she found the door in the darkness, and slid it open. It was technically the first day of spring now, but chilly wind still flowed through her robes and made her skin prickle.
Throughout the village there were colorful streamers hanging between the houses. No one was about at this hour, of course. Chie crept under the raised floor of her home, closed her eyes, and began the prayer of the fox. A blur of minutes passed by in which her body reshaped smoothly and painlessly, making the world seem to grow around her. She felt the salty wind tickle long whiskers on her snout. Her fox shape was much like Liren's if not quite as pretty, and it was good for sneaking.
Tree
s loomed high above her in eerie silence. The last patchy snow chilled her paws. She blundered into what seemed to be the right clearing, sniffed around the base of each tree for her own human scent, and found the one she'd stashed the supplies in last night. She sat back on her hindlegs, awkwardly clutched the metal between her forepaws, and tapped her chest with it.
Her body rippled and grew until she was human again. She dressed in her robe and sandals, picked up her bow and quiver, and dusted herself off. Sunlight was just starting to flow into the world and chase away the darkness. It was time.
After a little while she heard footsteps crunching on snow. The hunt had begun! Chie slipped behind a tree in time to hide from a running boy. The sound faded, leaving only the clean snow scent. She jogged, searching for Wuling. A fresh cloven hoofprint in a bit of muddy ground gave her a clue and guided her steps.
A doe thundered across her path. Chie's hand flew to her quiver, just like she'd practiced, but then she knocked it off of her shoulder. Arrows spilled all over. She cursed and hurried to collect them again. The deer gaped at her, sniffed, and ran away. At least it probably wasn't Wuling.
Chie climbed a gentle hill. There was no bedding-place to find, not for deer who were usually villagers. All around and below were the shouts of hunters at play, giving chase to prey who wanted to be caught by anyone clever enough to find them.
The hunters were noisy. As a village girl, it was Chie's job to be sneaky and quiet on this festival day, elusive until someone came along to find her. But today she was a huntress, and it seemed wrong to be silent. She gave a shout that echoed through the wilderness.