by Leah Cutter
I knew my own mother wouldn’t have done as well under such strenuous circumstances. Neither of my sisters, either. And it wasn’t the big things that made Kayoku human. It was the little things, like the way she joked with her servants about the tasks in front of them, the way she listened to First Cook about his toothache then politely insisted on his assistance and how the pain seemed to vanish midway through that first hour, how she carried herself and the heavy burdens that had been placed on her shoulders, how she hid her deep and abiding grief for Iwao.
The first spell was smaller, easier to perform, but possibly more important. Etsu would disguise my features, hide my own face and beauty, so that when I approached Masato, he would mistake me for Kayoku.
It was essential that this spell be successful. Masato had to be fooled. He still had my fox fairy powers so he’d be able to see through a simple illusion. It had to be a much more complicated spell, one that would require work on his part to block.
With Kayoku here, Etsu was able to work directly with her features. We also exchanged cloaks midway through Etsu’s song, to reinforce the binding.
Masato had already demanded that Kayoku attend him the first night of his possession of the estate.
He was going to get much more than he bargained for.
By the time the spell finished, across the dancing lights that filled the center of the clearing stood a figure I recognized from my own bronze mirror. I’d known that I was that beautiful—I’d had people tell me about my beauty my entire life.
Was I really that snobbish, though? My nose stuck permanently in the air? Did I have so much disdain for those around me, that I never addressed them properly?
Again, another memory for me to carry forward, into my new life.
After Kayoku and I exchanged cloaks again, I saw her standing there. I tried to smile at her, to encourage her. She’d come so far already. I was aware that all of this, everything we’d done that evening, had been so far from her normal life.
But Kayoku still seemed distracted by my sisters, the magic in the night, the cool breezes that carried soft promises.
The second spell was more complicated. Etsu placed a golden thorn into the center of the open space among the four of us. Then she cut a length of my hair to wrap around the thorn.
Were those green wisps already trailing from it? I couldn’t tell for certain, not without my own magic.
Why had I been so foolish as to give it up?
For the first time, I wondered if Norihiko was worth it. I’d shunned such thoughts before. But since becoming human, I had more time to consider my plight.
Perhaps remaining as I had been, and having the patience to wait for my sisters, would have been the wiser course. Maybe Etsu would have been able to find a way to raise the sword from the watery grave that Masato had promised it.
I’d never know.
I’d learned so much by becoming human. It had truly been a mirror for me to see my own actions and those of my people.
But would I choose the same path if I could do it all over again?
I wasn’t sure.
Etsu’s spell to bring my powers back to me had no words. She sang nonsense syllables to a discordant tune. It made me uncomfortable, and highlighted the gulf between us, the chasm that I had put there.
Lights shifted in the clearing as Etsu sang, as if shadows danced around us. Though Etsu didn’t burn any incense, I still smelled the sweet and bitter kyara of jinkoh wood. Across from me, Kayoku swayed like a poppy dancing in a gentle breeze.
I can’t say how long the spell took. But I’d sunk deeply into it, only coming back to myself after Etsu had finished.
I couldn’t see any sweat on her brow, and I didn’t have the skill anymore to tell if my sister was tired. But I still knew that it had taken a lot of work to craft such an artifact.
Etsu picked up the thorn and presented it to me, bowing her head low. Instead of being golden, fresh and just plucked, now it looked withered, as if it had aged in snow for many seasons.
“You must drive it deep into his skin,” Etsu instructed me. “And it must remain there for a while.” She looked at me sadly. “I’m sorry, sister. I wish there was another way.”
I nodded, understanding.
I was going to have to distract Masato while the thorn was in.
And we all knew the best way for a woman to distract a man, no matter how distasteful he might be.
Ξ
I did as I was told and stayed in my rooms when Masato and his troop arrived. It wouldn’t do for him to see me too soon, recognize me.
Plus, while physically I might have been able to pass for Kayoku, I didn’t know enough about the running of the estate to pass for her. She had far more knowledge about everything. I would have been spotted as an imposter quickly.
So I stayed in my dim rooms, alone, composing myself for my ordeal later that evening. The day had dawned warm, the air sticky.
My thoughts kept circling back to Kayoku. While it was true that I had contemplated leaving this plane after I had freed Norihiko, I don’t know if I would have actually had the courage to go through with it, like Kayoku.
The smell of the yama no gekkeiju haunted me still. Mother had taught me about that tree, which was plentiful here on the mountain. She’d shared much of her knowledge of herbcraft, of herbs that would ease childbirth or stop it, as well as potions to excite the blood or cool it.
After I’d foolishly given away my magic, I’d equally as foolishly believed that it was the only worthwhile gift I had. I had discounted all the other knowledge I’d accumulated, like herbcraft or creating poetry. I still had skills.
I would have to use all of them, plus more, later that evening.
Kayoku never once asked me if I was sure about taking her place with Masato. Maybe she thought it was just punishment for my misdeeds, for causing Iwao’s death. For my foolishness.
Or maybe she still floated between worlds. She had that look sometimes, her gaze far away, not seeing what was directly in front of her but things far on the horizon.
It wasn’t punishment, however. Or at least, I couldn’t view it that way. I wasn’t a sullied woman about to get her just deserts.
Nor was it duty. While I was a wife of Iwao, I had never married him in my heart. I had one true mate, whom, at one point, I would have done anything to save.
I viewed it more as correcting the mistake I had made. I could have asked my sisters for help. Possibly they could have distracted Masato enough while I stole my fairy powers back. The most certain way, though, was for me to do it.
And I needed for the spell to work, for me to have my powers again.
I had gotten myself into this mess. I needed to get myself out of it.
Though I wasn’t certain I’d make the same choice again, I still felt as though it wasn’t just me dependent on the success of this spell. Only with my full powers could I free Norihiko. He was dependent on me.
I reached out and stroked Seiji’s scabbard. The sword would never accept me. However, I was certain Norihiko would forgive me everything when he returned.
I would need it, as I wasn’t certain when I’d be able to forgive myself.
Ξ
I didn’t fall asleep for my nap until the heat of the day had seeped away, the promise of the evening’s coolness carried on the breeze. I felt as though I had just closed my eyes when a rough hand shook my shoulder, waking me.
“It is time,” Kayoku told me as soon as I opened my eyes.
I nodded, swallowed, and gathered myself together, pushing my dreams away and sitting up. “How did it go today?” I asked.
I’d learned that humans needed this sort of interaction, that it was polite to ask about an event.
I hadn’t expected the bitterness of Kayoku’s laugh. “Masato the great lord rode right past all the servants and wives assembled in the courtyard. I’m not even certain he saw us. Then he spent the day closeted with the generals and other advisors. He never aske
d for me or any of the other wives, any of those who might actually know about the estate.”
“But that was good, right? That you didn’t have to deal with him?” I asked, stripping off my robe.
Kayoku looked blankly at me, then blinked.
That was right. Humans had an aversion to actually being nude in front of one another. Even when they fornicated, they still wore robes. At least the proper lords and ladies.
Peasants stripped bare and enjoyed it.
It was still the easiest and quickest way for us to exchange robes, however.
With a shrug, Kayoku started to follow suit, stripping off her outer robe. “We wasted much of the morning standing there, waiting for him, first to arrive, then for someone to finally inquire whether he needed us or not. But why would that matter? We women and servants weren’t important enough for anyone else to think that our time might be wasted.”
“I’m sorry,” I told her sincerely. And I was. It was my fault, in many ways, that she’d been exposed to this.
“Then we gathered again, a second time, to see him off, as he left the estate,” Kayoku continued. She handed me her robe with an impatient gesture. I handed her mine in return.
“For a second time, he didn’t deign to look at any of us. Later, one of his men approached me to let me know that I shouldn’t let such rabble assemble in the yard, that I needed to keep better control of the servants.”
Her bitter laugh sent chills down my spine. “I didn’t bother explaining to him that there had been very few servants there, that it was wives and minor lords. But I understood what he was implying. Masato didn’t want to see us, or even acknowledge our existence.”
“I’ll take care of him,” I told her. “I swear he’ll hurt after tonight.”
“Good,” Kayoku said, nodding as she slipped on my robe.
The enchantment was already taking hold. Her features softened, her nose turned up, her hair grew thicker and softer.
“Will you kill him?” Kayoku asked as I knelt down and she started applying makeup.
I shook my head. “I can’t,” I told her. “I thought I could kill Norihiko’s killer. But that isn’t part of my soul, to kill another that way.”
“Ah,” Kayoku said, pausing. “I think I could. But one never knows what one will actually do until faced with the truth, right?”
I merely sighed in response. “I will do this,” I told her after a long pause. “I will steal back my powers and weaken him.”
“I believe you,” Kayoku said. “And let tomorrow bring what it may.”
I blinked back my tears, honored that I’d had a chance to know this brave woman, human or not.
I also vowed to not let her down.
Ξ
Masato had chosen to keep his camp outside of the estate walls. I don’t know if his paranoia was justified or not: sometimes victorious generals were murdered in their sleep when they moved into a new territory. However, the generals at the estate were morally beaten. I doubted any of them retained the will to fight on.
Fortunately, the guards escorting me to Masato’s camp didn’t try to talk with me. They also didn’t look at me. I realized they were just doing their duty, though I suspected they considered it shameful as well.
I didn’t know if my sisters followed me through the darkening evening. I tried not to be bitter about the fact that at one point, I would have known if any of my kin was within a single li. I didn’t see any fireflies, however, didn’t hear the yipping of foxes or hounds, so I assumed I was on my own.
I had to save myself, this time. My fate, and Norihiko’s both hung on my own wits and skills.
I hadn’t paid that much attention to Masato’s original camp—my goal had been to get in, steal the sword, and leave. Afterward, well, I don’t think I was capable of doing anything other than putting one foot in front of the other as I dragged Seiji behind me.
This time, I looked around eagerly. Guards paced in the darkness, both near the entrance and away from it, so I assumed they circled the camp. Warriors camped to the left of the main tent, while the priests, the sorcerers, the blacksmiths, the cooks, the camp followers and everyone else sprawled to the right. That would have to be my way out, once I regained my powers. It would be easier, and Etsu had warned me that it would take time before I was at my full strength.
Masato’s tent was as large as a temple. I remembered it had been divided into several smaller rooms. Guards stood before the doorway, as well as placed about a spear’s length apart all around the perimeter.
Was it an honor to be chosen to guard here? Or was it a disciplinary action? I couldn’t tell. The darkness hid the disposition of the men. The ones I could see all looked grim.
I wasn’t certain what to expect when I walked into the tent. Would Masato try to be civilized at first, invite me for tea and small talk, before inviting me to his bed? Would he be demanding as a new groom?
Masato had removed all the dividers. I wasn’t certain why. It made the place more breathable. Maybe the fox fairy powers had inspired him to do that, or maybe his servants hadn’t had time to set them up yet.
A silver brazier smoked on the altar at the back of the tent, and the scent of pine and clove incense filled the air, masking a more musky smell. The pillows and writing desk set up in the corner were the finest quality. As was the casual, indoor robe that Masato wore, brown with golden cicadas—a symbol of lust.
Servants took my cloak, then left the tent, left us alone. I turned to Masato, but didn’t raise my eyes to him.
I willed the spell to work, that he wouldn’t see anything of me standing there.
When Masato grabbed my arms, I gasped and looked up. Had he pierced the disguise?
However, instead of denouncing me, he started kissing me with his vile tongue demanding entrance.
I struggled. I couldn’t help myself. I was completely unprepared for his hunger.
That merely brought a quiet laugh from him. “Go ahead. Struggle, my little dove. That just makes me harder.” He thrust his hips against my body and I realized the scent the incense tried to cover up but hadn’t was his own masculine odor.
I tried to swallow down my fear. His fingers bruised my arms and his tongue continued to invade me. I shivered and tried to take a step back. I wasn’t really struggling, it was more play acting, to see what his response was.
It was as despicable as I’d thought it would be. He grew harder and pressed more deliberately against me.
I wasn’t about to give in, to scream and cry in earnest. I would never have given him that much satisfaction, or let the game go that way.
Fortunately, however, I was my mother’s daughter. I’d been taught how to pretend interest. Fox fairies frequently seduced men to get something out of them.
So I squirmed, squeaked, and pushed away, driving the beast inside Masato wild. It didn’t take long before he threw me down on the sleeping mats, holding my body down with the weight and strength of his own. He merely pushed my robes to the side as he prepared to mount me.
I struggled more then, as I knew he was expecting it. “Little wildcat you are,” he crooned as he cruelly pinched my bottom to get me to spread my thighs apart.
I cried more when he entered me, unprepared as I was. It hurt, but I could bear it. There wasn’t that much of him to accommodate.
As his pleasure increased, I reached back and scratched his thighs. That made him thrust more roughly, brought him closer to the edge.
When I judged he was close to finishing, I scratched him again, howling my displeasure as he grabbed my hair and forced my head back.
I reached back with my other hand and scratched him a third time, but this time, I used the magic thorn and plunged it into his thigh.
Shouting his pleasure, Masato started to orgasm. He didn’t notice the power seeping from him—he was too caught up in his release.
The first flood of power washed over me, choking me. I gasped, barely able to breathe. I tried to move my body to pro
long his pleasure, so he wouldn’t realize that he’d been tricked, but I need not have bothered.
Once the fool finished his useless pumping, he fell over to the side, his eyes closed, a peaceful smile on his lips. “You may go, now.”
I swallowed the bitterness I felt over being used and discarded as such. I knew he did it on purpose, to make the women he mated with feel powerless.
I had my prize. I had my power back.
Still, as I walked out of the sleeping room on shaky legs, gathering my robes back up around my shoulders, I couldn’t help but wonder at the price I’d paid.
Nine
Galloping Horse Hooves Echoed
Masato
Galloping horse hooves echoed in Masato’s aching head. He tried to focus his far–flung thoughts. He hadn’t had that much to drink the night before, had he? He didn’t recall any wine pots after taking Iwao’s wife, marking her as his territory, much as she’d marked him with her nails.
He shivered at the memory. She’d been such a wildcat! He was going to have to send for her again. Soon.
With a groan, Masato pushed himself up to sit on his sleeping mats. The day must be cloudy—the sun was so dim that morning. He blinked and took a deep breath, seeking the warm fox fairy powers to wash away his overindulgence.
Nothing responded to him. His own blood remained sluggish. Was he sick? The powers should just be there! What was happening to him?
Masato swayed when he finally made his way to his feet. He had no strength, no life in his arms or legs.
Again, Masato willed the fox fairy powers to rise, to warm his blood.
Nothing happened.
Had Junichi stolen the rest of the fox fairy powers? Or drained more of them away?
Masato sought the box that contained the shadow that had been carved off. It still sat in the corner, well protected by charms.