Vixen Hunted

by Christopher Kincaid

  "The Inquisitor is here, demon. You will not be able to escape God's justice for your deeds."

  "And what deeds are those? I don't own any land or even a house."

  Tera blinked. What was it talking about? No. Focus. Who knew what a demon could do? "You will not escape. I will make sure you will see justice."

  "What is this justice you speak of, sister?" The creature's voice dripped venom. "Is it just that people call me 'demon' and 'creature' because I look different? Is it just that people want to cut off my ears and tail?"

  "You made the pact with the devil. You are hell spawned and can't deceive me."

  "So certain. Did you read it in a book or hear it in a sermon?" The creature locked eyes with Tera. "I know it does no good to tell you I was born this way. I cannot help being born a fox any more than you can help being born human. I say again, is it just that I am hunted just because I was created with a tail?" The creature raised her face to the ceiling and spread her arms. "Thou art truly a grand God to create the beasts of the field, worms of the soil, birds of the air, and me, a vixen with a tail. I pray thy works will teach thy children compassion. I ask in your Son's name. Amen."

  "You mock the Lord! I will have none of it."

  "I do not mock. I merely pray in my own way. If I was hell spawned as you say, do you think I could pray without being struck down?"

  Tera hesitated. "The devil is the king of lies."

  The demon sighed. "Seriously, shepherd, I tried. I can't be patient with these people anymore. I am just not as good natured as you. I don't know how you do it," she muttered to herself.

  "I—"

  "Yes, yes." The creature's tail slapped the air. "You will not let me escape, blah blah. As if you could stop me if I wanted to leave. But I will indulge your delusion for now. I made a promise to your abbess. But, I am almost out of patience. Now leave." The demon crossed the room. Tera tensed.

  The creature grabbed Tera's shoulders, spun her around, and kicked her bottom hard enough to send the sister sprawling into the hallway. The door closed off a strange sad look on the demon's face. The nun guards squeaked.

  "Are you all right?" Sister Abby asked. She offered a hand.

  "Well, that wasn't what I was planning." Tera mustered her dignity and rubbed her sore rump. "I'm fine. Be vigilant. The fox is a trickster. Do not listen."

  "Sister, what shall we do with Vespers? We can't miss…sister?" Sister Rebecca asked.

  Tera ignored them. The fox's lies rang in her ears, and exhaustion and excitement fought each other. What she did mattered. She mattered more here than in her tiny village.

  She needed to walk lest the demon got a hold on her mind. "I will be back," Tera said.

  The lies wiggled and tried to cast their spell. Tera paced the halls until her thoughts slowed and she found herself outside. How would her mother react to know Tera had helped end the fox problem for all time?

  She slumped onto the bench. She yawned and groaned, her jaw and cheek aching. She yawned again. Her father would…her thoughts drifted away.

  Timothy turned the corner and bounced off Sister Rae's plumpness. The old nun carried a pair of leather packs.

  "There you are! Where are you going in such a hurry? No matter. You are coming with me."

  "I am—"

  "Your meeting with the girl went well?" Sister Rae said. "You kissed her? No? Well you should have. I remember…never mind. No time. Come along now." She herded him away.

  "I really need to—"

  The nun herded Timothy outside. "Yes, you need to leave. The abbess told me everything. Always the troublemaker." Sister Rae laughed. "Did you really think Mother would turn over your lovey? Please." Sister Rae dragged Timothy across the empty courtyard. Rain misted as the nun continued to chatter. She dragged him by the wrist, and Timothy felt as if he were caught in a prank.

  Cat greeted the pair inside the stable. Hay and manure assailed Timothy's nose.

  Sister Rae shoved the overstuffed leather packs into Timothy's arms. "Stay put." She disappeared into the mist.

  Raindrops pattered on Tera's face. The sound of late summer night chirped and serrated, mixing with the growing pitter-patter of rain. She had fallen asleep! She staggered to her feet and out of the rain. It was late, past Vespers. The demon! Tera was supposed to take over the watch hours ago. She dashed into the abbey.

  Timothy sat on a crate with the packs balanced on his knees. What trouble would Aunt Mae face with the Inquisition? Rain pelted the stable roof. Timothy wasn't sure why it insisted on raining whenever someone traveled. Clouds took special delight in soaking travelers.

  Cat yawned and the minutes stretched.

  Footsteps.

  Two shadows filled the entrance. Timothy tensed. One shadow moved. Soft light from a shielded lantern bathed the stable.

  Kit wore an oiled cloak with its hood down. A few red locks plastered themselves to her cheeks. Aunt Mae held the lantern.

  "You look so surprised, Timothy," Aunt Mae said.

  "He is thick skulled," Kit said.

  "I said I would take care of things, deary." The abbess handed Timothy a folded oiled cloak.

  "I…I'm sorry. I thought for sure—"

  "Different is not demonic. Actions make angels and demons. I guess I didn't teach you as well as I thought," Aunt Mae said.

  "You taught him too well," Kit said. "I cannot corrupt him."

  Aunt Mae laughed. "I wouldn't say that. I never thought he would find a girl. Be sure to marry this one, Timothy. She will be good for you and you for her."

  Even Kit looked embarrassed.

  "Best hurry. God be with both of you. And you, little lamb." Aunt Mae scratched Cat's head. "Don't worry. I will take care of the Inquisitor."

  "Aunt Mae—" Timothy said.

  The abbess held up a finger. "Mother Mae. I know the risks, but I can't have my son be caught by those fools." She pulled Timothy into a one-armed hug. "Evelyn is gone. Where, I don't know, but don't you worry. Get this girl home as you promised."

  The abbess released Timothy and pulled Kit into a hug. "You chose a good man to help you. Just be easy on him."

  "I can't promise that." Kit's voice quivered.

  The nun laughed. "No. I guess you can't." She squeezed and stepped back. "You two have my blessing. Just marry first!" She smiled. "Now best be off."

  The nun waved once before leaving. Timothy and Kit watched each other for a long moment.

  "Best we move, shepherd. Unless you plan on leering at me all night."

  The oiled cloaks shed the rain well. The trio trudged away from Timothy's home without anyone noticing. They skirted around the grounds and headed east.

  The room was empty. The sisters assigned to watch the door were gone.

  Tera shouted wordlessly. Her feet thundered down the halls as she called for help. Where had they gone? The stable. Where else to look? She ran outside and rain slapped her face. The Inquisitor kneeled in the mud, a lantern resting at his feet. He wore a strange smile and held a wisp of red hair, limp with the rain. He gazed upon it with reverence.

  "We are in luck, sister. The hunt continues."

  Chapter 9

  "I thought you liked baths?" Timothy shrugged his shoulders, his oiled cloak spraying the rain. The deluge fell all through the night and the day. Timothy hoped that put enough distance between them and the Inquisitor. He did not doubt Tahd would come after them.

  "I like baths, shepherd. Not showers. My tail needs wringing again."

  "Baa!" Cat shook rain from her wool.

  "Look there!" Kit slapped Timothy's chest.

  Mists swirled around a small traveler's shelter. They needed rest.

  "I hope your fox luck is working."

  "We got away without any problems, didn't we? Come on." Kit opened the shelter's door.

  Rain beat on the roof, but the interior was dry. A small pile of split wood stood in the corner and a square stone hearth sat in the middle of the packed dirt floor. A wooden rack fo
r drying clothes waited next to the door.

  Cat speckled the dry walls with rain. Timothy hung their cloaks and worked on the fire as Kit stripped off her sodden clothes.

  "Do you really have to take them all off?" Timothy kept his eyes on his work. The rain soaked even her shift. A glance told him that much. "What if someone else comes?"

  Kit's tail splattered droplets across the walls. The lamb settled in close to the newborn fire and worked on drying herself.

  "You worry too much. We are too far out in nowhere. Tahd doesn't know which way we went, and you will sleep against the door." Kit wrung water from her tail. "My beautiful tail! Look at it!"

  The fire blazed well enough. Timothy leaned against the door, trying not to look at the fox. The small fire started its work on his own damp clothing.

  "Your face is flushed! You better not be getting sick on me." Kit laid a hand on his forehead. Her shift clung. There was no doubt of her slim femininity.

  "I'm fine." Timothy pulled away.

  Her grin revealed fangs. "So that is how it is! Maybe I should let you look." She shook more water from her tail. "Well, pity for you that my tail needs attention."

  Kit moved away and plopped herself in the corner opposite Timothy. He shook his head, wiggled out of his coat, and slung it on the rack. The rest of him would dry soon.

  Kit brandished a brush.

  "You stole that brush, didn't you?"

  "Giving me a brush is the least they could do after calling me a demon."

  "They were not too far from the mark," Timothy said. He dodged a wet stocking. It smacked against the door and slid a damp trail. Kit wore a crooked smirk.

  "So, are you going to tell me what you found? Or did I go through all that for nothing?"

  "About what?"

  "My home, mutton head."

  Should he tell her what happened?

  "Do you really want to know?" Timothy rummaged around in his pack for a small pot and a packet of Aunt Mae's stew mix.

  "If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't be asking. Stew?"

  "Yep." Timothy set the paper packet aside, cracked the door, and put the pot out into the rain. "Aunt Mae liked to make these for travelers to take with them." Timothy cast about for the right words. What words could rightly tell someone everyone she knew was long dead?

  Kit picked up the packet with two fingers and sniffed it. "Dried stew. Again."

  Cat bobbed her head with curiosity.

  "This is better, I promise. We know the name. Belafonte."

  Kit frowned. "That doesn't help me much."

  "Kit, I…" He looked into her eyes. "I need…" He sighed. He couldn't tell her. The sodden paper mocked him from his pocket. How could he tell her everyone was likely dead? "You don't remember anything—"

  The other wet stocking slapped his face.

  "I said as much, didn't I?"

  Timothy wiped his face with his sleeve. He pulled the pot from outside and hung it over the fire. He had to tell her. He took a deep breath. "Kit, I—"

  "So we are going to eat that." Kit eyed the packet Timothy poured into the pot.

  "Baa!"

  "You can have some too," Timothy told the lamb. "Kit, when I—"

  "Do you know how hard it is to get tangles out of a tail?" Her tail swished.

  Timothy gave up. Words failed him. He wished he could just blurt it out. "Your red hair is going to be a problem." Stupid! Why couldn't he just say it? He feared her reaction. Would she be angry? Would she cry? What would he do if she cried? He sighed. There would be time later.

  "Well, excuse me for having beautiful fur. I am sure you like the old crones who are missing teeth better."

  "Sheesh. You get grumpy when you are hungry."

  Kit's stomach proved Timothy's point.

  "Red isn't exactly a common color."

  "I am not going to shave my head for you!"

  "You would look weird with a bald head and those fluffy ears anyway. I mean we should consider dyeing it. Temporarily, of course. At least until we are out of the range of the Inquisition."

  Her ears drooped and Cat sniffed the boiling pot. Suddenly Kit's ears perked up. "Noblewomen sometimes dye their hair red, right?"

  "Yes…I heard—"

  She held up a finger. "We can be nobles! That can be our story. We need a good story to tell people."

  "Do we? It isn't their business."

  "Forgotten the trouble with your nuns already, hmm? A good story would have stopped that."

  "So would you not taking bathes," Timothy said.

  "Humph."

  "I don't think we exactly have the money or the clothes for that. I doubt I could pass as a noble."

  "But I could! You can be my servant!"

  "You are snotty enough to be a noble. But I don't think it will work."

  Kit's blouse flew at him.

  Timothy untangled himself. "I was almost dry too."

  "It can and will work. At the least, I could pass as a wealthy merchant. People do not venture into the affairs of nobles and the rich."

  "Except other nobles and rich people. And how are we going to pull that off with our little bit of money?"

  "We will just avoid other nobles. Give me what money we have." She held out a hand.

  "What! Why?" The scent of stew made Timothy's stomach grumble.

  "And you get slow witted when you are hungry." Kit beckoned. "The stories about foxes being lucky are true. At least, they seem to be most of the time for me."

  "No!"

  Kit pouted. "Well, you best think on it. I don't need money to make money."

  "Baa!"

  "Yes. It's ready." Timothy dug out the bowls and ladled the stew. Kit looked at it as if it were a rotting head.

  "It's good." Timothy cooled a spoonful.

  "Baa! Baa!" Cat bleated at her bowl to try to cool it.

  "You will see in the next town. We will be able to live like nobles and ride east in a carriage."

  "I don't like the sound of this."

  Kit slurped her stew. "It tastes like beef!"

  "Aunt Mae knows what she is doing."

  "This way."

  Tera opened the door to the abbess's room, a pair of black-robed Jesuits flanking her. The middle-aged woman sat at her desk with papers strewn over it. She sipped at her ever-present teacup.

  "Have you lost all manners, sister? Hello, brothers. Care to join me for tea?"

  "My name is Balwar Tren," the younger Jesuit said. His brown hair made him look boyish.

  "My name is Guillermo Ruz," the older man inclined his bald head.

  The abbess inclined her head. "I would stand, but my bones dislike this time of year. What may I do for you?"

  "You summoned us about a fox demon, Abbess?" Balwar asked.

  Tera flinched at the abbess's glare. "Actually, I didn't," the abbess said.

  "I…I did. But we had a fox demon! It gave me this!" Tera showed off the small half-healed scar on her cheek.

  The abbess sighed and put down her teacup. "Deary, we talked about this before. You scared the poor girl." She turned to the Jesuits. "I am sorry for this. She is full of zeal, but it tends to make her think more of things than she should. You see, we had a red-haired girl sheltering with us to escape the rain. You know the stories about how fox demons have red hair."

  "They are more than stories, Abbess," Balwar said.

  "Yes. Yes. Nobles also are born with red hair and even dye it, if I recall correctly. It is something of a style. But you are not here to discuss fashion. Our sister was overcome with zeal and attacked the poor woman. She defended herself, as you can see. Poor dear."

  "I saw its ears and tail! Tahd said I would." Tera slapped her hands against the fool woman's desk. The abbess had lied to Inquisitors!

  "You said Tahd." The older Jesuit locked his dark eyes on Tera. "Do you speak of Tahd Valador?"

  "Y…yes. Brother Tahd said he hunted this demon."

  "Brother Tahd"—the young Jesuit's voice dripped sarcasm
—"is a heretic."

  "H…he can't be." Tera took an unconscious step back and bumped into the desk.

  "He cares more about his hunts than the work of the Church," Balwar said. "There have been incidents when the man's…zeal for the hunt cost the lives of innocents."

  "N…no." Tera felt her knees weaken. Tahd could not be a heretic. Tera trusted her eyes. "I know what I saw! It was a red-haired demon with a tail and ears."

  "No one doubts what you saw, deary. But sight often isn't reality." The abbess poured herself more tea. "Are you sure you don't want any tea?"

  Guillermo held up a hand. "Where is this demon of yours? We need to speak with her."

  "She left more than a week ago." The abbess inhaled the tea's warmth. "She was on her way home."

  "And Valador?" Balwar asked.

  "I spoke with him. He is a driven man, I guess you can say. Restless." The abbess held Tera's eyes. Tera glared back. "I told him she went left, heading northwest."

  "You lie! How could you! You saw the demon too!" Tera felt panic rising in her throat and acid in her chest. Why did the abbess protect the demon!

  "Deary, I only saw a girl angry about our terrible hospitality."

  Balwar held the abbess's eyes for a moment. "She speaks truth."

  "I am telling the truth!" Tera shouted.

  "Sister!" The abbess rose to her feet. "That is enough. What has become of you? I am sorry, brothers. This young one's zeal and desire to help build the Holy Body gets the best of her."

  "I…I am not…" Tera felt herself deflate. "Get Sister Grace! She saw the same thing I did! Or Abby and Nika. Rebecca!

  "Deary, Sister Grace has taken Sister Abby, Nika, and Rebecca to minister a village struck with an illness. I don't suspect they will be back for several months. We will talk about your behavior and proper penance."

  Tera fell to her knees. "I…I…"

  "It doesn't matter," Balwar said. Tera looked up at the dark Jesuit. "If we find Valador, we will find the girl. Or rather, if we find the girl, we will find Valador. In either case we will know the truth and bring a heretic to justice. What direction did the girl travel?"