by Zoe Marriott
The girl Kitsune only had two tails, and from what Hikaru had said, that meant she was too lowly to have rigged the trap with the transformation ward herself. But I was sure she alone, out of these three who’d come to greet us, had known about it. I glanced at Jack and saw that her hands were flexing, a sign she was itching to punch someone. I shook my head at her. She gave me a duh look that made me smile. Aw. My little girl is growing up.
“You’re late,” the woman said brusquely to Hikaru. “He’s annoyed.”
“We had some trouble with the wards.”
“Trouble?” The woman’s eyebrows drew together. “What kind of trouble?”
“The kind where two of my friends turned into foxes the moment their feet hit our soil,” Hikaru said, folding his arms.
The woman opened her mouth, then shut it and pursed her lips together. “Interesting.” Her surprise looked real to me. If she was faking, she was a very good actress.
“It certainly explains a few things,” said the boy fox, grinning to himself.
“Like what?” Hikaru asked.
“I think you’ll see for yourself when you get to court,” the woman said, giving the boy fox a repressive look. “Come on now. Best not to keep him waiting any longer.”
The three Kitsune turned and marched away. Hikaru motioned for us to follow. His expression wasn’t particularly reassuring.
As Shinobu fell back to flank me again, I raised my eyebrows at Hikaru and flicked my eyes towards the three foxes. He shook his head and put one finger over his lips again; a warning that it was not a good idea to talk in front of them.
Hills shaped like buildings rose up on either side of us as we followed the foxes down the trail. Bird calls and unfamiliar animal noises echoed around us, mixing with the wind to make nature’s version of muzak in the greenery, but it still felt uncomfortably quiet as we reached a dip where wide steps had been cut in the earth, leading down to a dark cave entrance. I blinked at it, confused because it seemed familiar. Oh, right! It was the entrance to the Tube that Jack and I took to school every day. The entrance to the Underground.
Kitsune territory.
As the foxes started down, Jack took a step back, shaking her head. “No. Not again.”
Hikaru touched her arm. “What’s the problem?”
“The dark. I can’t. I’m sorry, I just can’t. Isn’t there another way?”
Hikaru called out. “Araki-san, Hiro-san, it’s a little dark down there for our human guests. How about some fox lights?”
The older woman – Araki – was poised to disappear into the cave, but she stopped and looked up at us. “Of course. Thank you for reminding me, Hikaru-san.”
Her tails whipped at the air, then straightened, each of them pointing out at a different angle, like the spokes on a wheel. There was a faint crack and a whiff of ozone. A bluish globe of light, around the size of a tennis ball, appeared at the tip of each tail. She flicked them upwards and they sailed through the air to bob about a foot over her head. She nodded at the male fox. “Hiro-san.”
He sent three balls of light – not as bright and with a faint golden tinge – up to join them.
There was a pause.
“Miyako-san?” Araki said sternly. “You will not wish to be rude.”
The younger Kitsune sniffed and whipped her tails together. Two crackling spheres of greenish electricity, bigger than footballs, surged up past her head. But instead of stopping there, the energy shot higher, stretching thin as it flew. I flinched and saw green zigzags on the back of my eyelids. There was a fierce sizzling noise.
Greyish ash drifted down. A massive hole gaped in the thick carpet of vines overhead, singed black chunks hanging sadly from its edges.
Miyako smiled sweetly. “Oops.”
I hoped she couldn’t hear the sound of me gulping.
“Never mind, dear.” Araki’s voice was velvety. “Lots of young ones have trouble controlling their lightning. I’m sure you’ll improve as you mature.”
The boy fox sniggered while Miyako’s smile soured and dripped off her face. Her tails twitched and the smell of ozone got stronger. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Shinobu shifted forward, subtly getting between us. My hand lifted involuntarily, ready to grab Jack again.
“Miyako-san!” Araki tapped her foot. “I think you should lead the way.”
Miyako turned her back on us with a flounce and marched past the other two Kitsune into the darkness. Hiro winked at us and followed her, with Araki close behind him. I blew out a deep breath.
We trooped through the cave entrance after them. The floating fox lights revealed a wide circular tunnel, lined with thick, dark-green moss. The vegetation made faint squelching noises underfoot, and the air smelled damp.
“So … you guys can make lights whenever you want?” Jack asked Hikaru. She sounded faintly reproachful. Probably thinking about our uncomfortable experience in the blackness of Between.
“I’m not old enough to do that,” Hikaru said tonelessly. “Kitsune generally only develop the control necessary to form their lightning into fox lights some time during their second century.”
“How old are you then?”
Hikaru cleared his throat and mumbled something. It sounded like “plenty”.
Twenty? Twenty? These guys lived for hundreds of years. Twenty would make him practically a toddler!
“Hikaru-san is the only Kitsune born to King Takahiro’s people in the last century, and the only Kitsune born in the new country.” Araki’s voice drifted back to us. “His birth was a cause of great celebration and joy. We are all expecting wonderful things from him.”
The light in the tunnel was uneven, but I was pretty sure that Hikaru was turning an unattractive shade of brick red.
The tunnel opened up ahead of us, leading into a cavernous space where the ceiling disappeared into impenetrable shadows above the fox lights. The sounds of water dripping and rustles of movement echoed in the darkness. Bats? Rats? Or something worse?
“This is the station, isn’t it?” I said quickly, trying to distract myself from thoughts of what might be lurking up there. “I don’t understand why the spirit realm is so exactly like the human realm in so many ways. Or is it the other way round?”
To my surprise, Araki answered, dropping back to walk beside us. “No – you are correct. It is our world that echoes yours. The planes lie directly on top of each other, like, ah…”
“Like the layers in a sandwich,” Hikaru put in helpfully.
“I suppose that is an adequate analogy. Now, imagine that I take, say, a pen, and I press it up into the bottom layer of bread. The filling of the sandwich and the top layer of bread would be forced into a new shape by the presence of that pen on the bottom layer, even though it is not touching them. Do you see? That is why your buildings and roads change the shape of the spirit realm.”
“Then the buildings and roads we see here are, like, scars,” Jack said thoughtfully. “Are there scars in our world too? From changes you’ve made on your side?”
There was a bitter laugh in the darkness ahead of us. “We do not make changes to our world, human girl.” Miyako’s voice drifted back. “We do not crush and smash and burn and destroy as your kind do. Humanity warps the world to suit itself. We adapt ourselves to fit our world. That is why—” Her voice was cut off with a small gasp. I had a vision of Hiro kicking her in the ankle.
There was a short silence.
“No wonder Kitsune don’t like humans much,” I said self-consciously.
“Please do not believe that,” Araki said, clicking her tongue. “In general, Kitsune have always been quite fond of humanity. It is in your nature to be short-lived, full of brilliance and passion and progress. You cannot help that any more than Kitsune can help being long-lived, cautious, cunning and resistant to change. In my opinion, those who profess to dislike humans do so more from envy than anything else. Your unique human changeability and creativity would make our long lives much more int
eresting. But those traits are not for us.”
I glanced sideways at Hikaru. Cautious and resistant to change? Maybe the Kitsune weren’t giving themselves enough credit.
We left the large chamber and Araki moved ahead of us again as we climbed down roughly hewn rock steps into another tunnel. This one was much roomier, with an even more echoey quality. I suspected that it was one of the Tube tunnels. We carried on walking.
“Please tell me we’re running on Narnia time here,” Jack muttered to me after another ten minutes.
Hikaru let out a crack of laughter. Araki frowned at us over her shoulder, an arrested expression on her face. She clearly didn’t get it.
“You know C.S. Lewis?” Jack asked him incredulously.
He shrugged. “Why not? You heard Araki-san. There aren’t many people my age hanging around the Kitsune Kingdom. I’ve spent a lot of time in the mortal realm. There’s plenty of stuff to do there – shops, cinemas, libraries. It’s cool.”
Sounds surprisingly like a human childhood. And surprisingly … lonely.
“Anyway,” Hikaru said, “the days and nights and the seasons might be reversed, but time passes at the same rate in both planes.” He hesitated, and then said in a slightly softer voice, “Don’t worry. There are hours left before dawn.”
“Besides, we are almost there,” Araki said. “Has Hikaru warned you of the proper etiquette in court?”
“Er, mostly,” I said.
“Then brace yourselves,” Araki said. She stopped abruptly and placed her hand on one curving wall.
The tunnel shook and rumbled as a circular section of the wall began to roll back. Light spilled into the gloom. Jack grabbed Hikaru for balance. I planted my feet firmly, grateful for Shinobu’s steadying hand on my shoulder.
The opening became perfectly circular. The rumbling stopped, but the tunnel was no longer quiet. A rushing, rustling noise filled the space. At first I thought it was wind moving through leaves again, like above ground. Then my eyes adjusted to the brightness and saw what awaited us on the other side of the wall.
“Holy shit,” Hikaru whispered.
CHAPTER 18
THE COURT OF THE KITSUNE
Avast space – big enough to dwarf the cavernous station we had just walked through – lay before us. I couldn’t even see the walls. Maybe there weren’t any. The only visible boundary was a circle of green-gold tree trunks, each of them wider than any tree I had ever seen in my life. If Jack, Hikaru, Shinobu and I had all joined hands, I doubted that we would have been able to encircle even the thinnest one. The trees curved outwards like ribs, their branches meeting at least fifty feet overhead in a lush, silver-leafed ceiling, utterly still.
I could see lights glinting between the leaves, and for a moment I thought they were stars. But they were moving. Fox lights, clouds and clouds of them, danced among the trees. The ground at the base of the trees sloped into a steep bowl shape, its sides terraced into broad steps, with a low, round hill at the very bottom, acting as a centre point. It reminded me of an amphitheatre.
Everywhere – on the hill, on the terraced sides of the bowl and along the top, among the trees – there were foxes. Foxes with multiple tails. Foxes as tiny as house cats. Foxes as big as wolves. White foxes, black foxes, grey foxes, red foxes. Foxes with giant, tufted ears, foxes with narrow, cruel-looking muzzles that reminded me of dingoes. There must have been a thousand Kitsune here, so many that even this giant place felt crammed.
And every one of them was staring at us. Their whispers echoed through the space under the trees like the sound of the tide rushing in.
“Good luck,” Araki said.
She stepped through the round entrance, with Miyako and Hiro close behind her, and began the walk down the side of the bowl. Before they had taken two steps into the giant space all three were back in fox form.
“This is why someone, whoever it was, triggered the transformation ward,” Hikaru muttered, his breath quick and harsh. “They needed to delay us so they could arrange all this.”
“What’s going on?” Jack demanded.
“We were supposed to have an audience with His Majesty. Just His Majesty. Maybe a few advisors. This – this is a full gathering of the British Kitsune.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” Shinobu asked, low-voiced.
“It means nothing that happens here is about us any more. Everyone is watching. Whatever the king says will become law. He has no wriggle room. If any of us, including me, put a single paw wrong, he’ll have no choice but to annihilate us. He can’t afford to show a hint of weakness or favouritism, or they’ll turn on him. It was dangerous enough before, but now…” His voice trailed off as if even he couldn’t think of words to describe the utter suckiness of the situation.
Jack looked at me, her face stricken. I could see the thought running through her mind before she even opened her mouth. “I’m sorry. I made you all come here—”
“Don’t.” I cut her off. “You didn’t make us do anything. We’re all in this together. Right, guys?”
Shinobu nodded, face grave. “Of course. We have each made our own choices, Jack-san.”
“And it’s too late to turn back now anyway,” Hikaru said. “Listen, Mio, you have one shot to convince him of your worthiness. You have to get him to treat you as an equal, to agree that you have the right to speak to him and petition for his aid in saving Rachel. If you don’t, he’ll be forced to rule that letting you come here was a mistake. And then things will get bad. Very bad.”
“How do I do that?” I asked, my voice going squeaky at the end despite my best efforts. I cleared my throat. “Don’t I have to bow and scrape?”
“Yes, but you have to do it in the right way. You can’t show fear. Act as if you’re just as powerful as him, like you’re only bowing and scraping because you’re polite. Can you do that?”
He looked me up and down, taking in my diminutive stature, ruined clothes and the layers of dirt. His brow wrinkled in despair.
Shinobu folded his arms menacingly. “Mio-dono is the equal of anyone here. She is special.”
“I am?”
Jack nodded at me, her normally golden skin looking yellow with fear. But her eyes were determined. “He’s right. Don’t let these guys freak you out.”
Don’t let the foxes freak me out? Right now my friends were doing a great job of that themselves. Because if we were going to get technical about it, all of this was my fault.
I’d mucked things up right from the beginning. Ojiichan had trusted me with the sword and practically destroyed his relationship with his son to get me the training and information I needed to handle it. In return, I’d abandoned my kendo, forgotten all Ojiichan’s stories and treated the katana like a toy. I’d put my best friend and her sister – not to mention the entire population of London – in terrible danger. And I had no idea what to do about any of it.
Special? Specially useless, more like.
But Hikaru was right. It was too late to turn back now. We were already through the looking glass. The sword, whatever it was, was mine to bear. I’d done a terrible job so far, but if any of us were going to get out of this, I had to suck it up and start acting like I knew what I was doing.
“Stand back,” I said quietly. I gave them all a moment to shuffle away before I drew the katana from its carrier. My bad arm twinged sharply with the movement.
I sighed as I took the weight of the sword between my hands, closing my fingers tightly around the saya and hilt, and felt the familiar buzz of energy against my skin.
Below us, Araki had reached the low hill at the centre of the amphitheatre. A small group of foxes sat there, and Araki trotted up to one of them – a medium-sized fox with colouring very similar to Hikaru in his fox form. His tails, spread out like a peacock fan, waved gently in the air behind him. Tiny, blue sparks of lightning crackled constantly between the white tips, as if he was so powerful that he generated electricity without even being aware of it.
I
counted the tails and gulped. Nine.
He had to be the king.
Below the king, two more foxes sat on the hill. The one on the left was startling white, with no trace of colour in its fur at all. The one on the right was a deep, bluish-grey, darkening to black at the extremities of tail and paws. Each of them had eight tails. As I watched, Araki bowed low before the king and spoke to him. Meanwhile, Miyako seated herself neatly behind the white fox and Hiro took up position behind the grey one.
So each of the most powerful foxes here had sent someone to look for us when we were late – and the lovely Miyako was the white fox’s contribution. Interesting.
Araki finished speaking to the king. He nodded at her. She lay down behind him, lifting her muzzle to the sky and booming: “His Majesty bids the visitors approach!”
Hikaru drew in a deep breath. “I’ll go first. Mio, you’re the petitioner, so you walk right behind me. Shinobu and Jack, bring up the rear. Remember, don’t look at the king directly or address him until he gives permission.”
He hesitated for a second, then turned swiftly to Jack and laid a kiss right on her lips.
She started back in shock, two spots of bright colour lighting up her cheeks. Hikaru cleared his throat, nodded to me, and then stepped through the gateway.
“Geronimo,” I muttered, jumping through after him.
I heard Shinobu and Jack follow, but I didn’t look back as we began the long walk down the rows of steep terraces. The amphitheatre had clearly been designed for people with four legs, not two. I had to keep my eyes fixed firmly on my feet to avoid taking a humiliating tumble down the too-smooth grass. I just hoped that I wasn’t breaking protocol by refusing to meet anyone’s eyes for long.
The space grew gradually silent as we descended, the last whispers lingering chillingly in the air. Every time I risked a glance up, a pair of cold, foxy eyes would be there, fixed on me. It was hard to read human expressions on a fox’s face, but I would have bet good money that none of them were broadcasting warmth and welcome. Had Araki been joking when she said that the Kitsune were fond of humans? These guys looked like they wanted to eat us for breakfast. Possibly without bothering to kill us first.