Vixen Hunted

by Christopher Kincaid

  "What is Evelyn doing here?" Timothy pressed his hand against his spinning head. "That could not have been her. Better get that coat and get out of here."

  "See? Isn't this ring wonderful! There isn't any other like it!" a young woman said. The couple passed arm in arm.

  "That's great, honey."

  The noise lessened near Shefar's shop. At least he had escaped the crush of the market. Well-dressed people meandered the street, wearing long yellow coats slashed with reds and lined with fur. Several of the men sported large-brimmed hats with blue feathers protruding from them. A few women wore the river-stone jewelry of finer quality than what the market jeweler hawked.

  The shoppers shot him disdainful looks, and he glanced down at his patched coat. Perhaps Kit had the right idea. Timothy entered Shefar's shop.

  A bell chimed welcome. A woman dressed a yellow-green dress fawned over a long fur coat a crisp man held for her. "Oh! It is so soft! What animal was this?"

  The man assessed Timothy with professional neutrality. Only a momentary frown betrayed his opinion. "The master of the shop will see you shortly." He turned back to the customer. "It is very warm for cold days, my lady. There is an animal called a marmot…"

  Timothy ignored them and watched the people passing by the window. The wind billowed rainbow skirts and claimed one of the ridiculous hats. His gaze latched onto a man dressed in drab green across the street who stood out against the whitewashed buildings and garishness. A few people looked at the figure and seemed to decide it was best to walk a good distance away. The figure surveyed the street and Timothy jerked. He knew that scarred cheek and weathered face. His heart thumped. Tahd searched for them in the town.

  "Mister Clarke!"

  Timothy jumped. Shefar's smile stretched a hair too long.

  Timothy swallowed his heart and forced a wan smile. He glanced over his shoulder. Tahd stalked down the street, and Timothy let out a breath.

  "Excellent timing! I have just finished the stitching. We just need to make a few final fitting adjustments. Come, come. The fitting room is back here." Shefar pulled aside the curtain he had materialized from. Several polished bronze mirrors lined the fitting room. Clothing in various states of finish hung from those strange iron hooks.

  "Here it is." Shefar brandished the coat as if it were made of gold fleece. "Please, try it on."

  Timothy tried to calm himself as he stripped off his patched farmer's coat. Tahd could not have seen him in the window. It was a good thing that Kit was in bed with a hangover.

  The fur-lined coat fit comfortably.

  "Stand up here, please." Shefar gestured to a short block that stood in front of the bronze mirrors. "I need to make a few adjustments."

  Timothy stood still as the tailor worked to correct things Timothy would never have noticed.

  "May I ask how the misses is doing?"

  "Oh, the, uh, misses is sleeping after being up too late."

  "Ah, the festival. Yes, yes." The man's oozing politeness rankled Timothy.

  "I was just wondering, perhaps she has more of those stones? I have business associates who have expressed interest. Perhaps even a way to pay off the debt your father owes."

  The man must have connections to have jewelers selling the stones after just a single day.

  "Yes. The…the debt. I think she does. I will have to ask her."

  "Good. Good. I would be happy to buy more off you. In order to help. This being Founders Day week after all. Melanie says you are wonderful guests. There you are. I am sure the misses will be pleased to see you in this new coat."

  Timothy tugged at the hem. It did fit well. "Thank you. I am sure she will be."

  "And I want to add these as thanks for the new business idea…I want to help you with your problem. Do come and see me." Shefar brandished a pair of gray trousers and a cream ruffled shirt.

  The man must have done very well indeed with the stones. How did Kit know they would sell?

  Timothy took the folded trousers and bowed. "Thank you…" What was he to say? He had his hands on clothing worth more than his entire flock!

  Shefar waited. Was Timothy supposed to do something? The moment stretched.

  "If you would try them on?" Shefar said. "I may need to make adjustments."

  "Oh, sure." Timothy felt awkward changing clothes in front of the man. Shefar measured and tugged at the shirt—ruffles!—and made a few small stitches here and there. The trousers must have fit well enough. Timothy was glad to be spared that embarrassment.

  "You look like a completely new man," The tailor said.

  Timothy gathered his old clothes in a bundle under his arm.

  "I could dispose of those for you."

  "No, it's fine." Timothy was not about to say he felt foolish in the shirt. At least the coat and trousers were serviceable. His note still rested in his old shirt pocket. He needed it to remind him of what he had to tell Kit.

  Shefar followed Timothy to the door. The yellow-green woman fawned over a yellow dress that could make the sun wince.

  "I am more than happy to help you out of your plight. If you have any more of the stones, I could purchase them for a fair sum, perhaps enough to help you settle your father's debt. Money speaks louder than contracts," Shefar said. "Please thank her again. Let me know if there is anything I can do."

  "I will tell her."

  The new coat cut the wind well. The fool ruffled shirt and trousers kept the cold at bay. Timothy kept his eyes open for Tahd. With so many people in the market, the man could stand on Timothy's foot and not be seen. The inn finally reared into view, and Timothy breathed with relief. He hurried up the stairs and threw open the door.

  "Oh! What a wonderful new coat!" Clarisse cleaned a table. Cold wind followed Timothy.

  She straightened and studied him. Timothy felt like a freshly shorn sheep. She smiled. "I knew you were a gentleman in costume when I saw you last night. I kept a few flat cakes warm. You will want honey, yes? Please give me a moment."

  She reappeared with a silver tray containing a tower of the flat cakes, a jug of honey, and a teapot. Timothy's stomach relished the scent.

  "You have your hands full. I can take it up for you."

  Timothy envisioned Kit in her usual state of undress. He imagined Clarisse's scream and the town militia descending.

  "No, thanks. I can manage." He slung the old clothes over his shoulder and took the tray.

  At the door, Timothy balanced the tray on an arm and fumbled with the key. The tray tipped dangerously before he managed to get the lock to click.

  "Took you long enough! I was wasting away from hunger!"

  Kit sat on the bed wrapped to her head in the coverlet. A single ear flicked at him.

  "Feeling better, I take it?" Timothy slid the tray on the desk.

  "Only if you consider one's stomach trying to eat one's backbone feeling better. Only if you consider a head that splits open with every blink. Only if you consider—"

  "I get the idea." He poured the tea and handed her a plate with the odd flat cake coated with warm honey.

  "This looks very good. You are forgiven." The vixen smiled and tore into the flat cake.

  Timothy tried to pace himself despite the demands of his stomach that matched Kit's cake ravaging. He sipped the willow tea. "We are going to have to leave."

  "Why? The festival is just starting." Honey dripped down her chin. "You look almost presentable in those clothes."

  "I saw Tahd."

  "Did you?" She wiped her chin and buried her face in her cup.

  "Yes. I'm not sure how he found us."

  "Perhaps because this is the only town of its size around here?"

  "We need to leave."

  "I am not going anywhere."

  "But!"

  "I am not going anywhere." Kit's fork clattered onto the plate. "I am done running. I am tired of running from that man. All men. No more! I will be the hunter."

  "That would be more convincing if you weren't drool
ing," Timothy said. "Sounds like you have a plan."

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and glared long enough to drive her point home.

  "Not really." She sipped her tea. "At least, not yet."

  Timothy sighed. "Shefar asked about the river stones. I saw several people wearing them today."

  Kit nodded. "Good. I thought they would jump on the idea with the festival."

  "So that was your plan?"

  "People like to buy worthless things at festivals. I guessed the stones would work. I need a bath." She threw off the coverlet and stretched. Her ears strained to touch the ceiling. "I am feeling much better now."

  "It was all only a guess? After spending all our money?"

  "I am a lucky and cunning fox. You look passable enough to be seen in public with your darling wife."

  "And who might this 'darling wife' be? I only know of a red-headed trickster who plans on swindling people."

  "This trickster merely wants people to enjoy the festivities. You are going to have to practice your dancing if all goes well." She stretched hard enough to pop.

  "Dancing?"

  "I do feel better. Those cake things were really good. I want more of them. You are going to be a merchant, a rich merchant in the next few days." She tied her headscarf. "I am done with walking and with smelling like a shepherd. There are only going to be carriages and baths in the future for this fox."

  Timothy's hands stopped moments away from wiping honey on his new trousers. He settled for his old clothes. They needed to be washed anyway. He replaced his empty plate on the tray and stepped toward the door. Kit's brow furrowed.

  "Where do you think you are going?" she asked.

  "I assumed you wanted to go out."

  "Hmph. Trying to guess my mind and guessing right. First, I am going to sell the rest of the stones. You are going to have my bath drawn and find more of these cake things."

  "I should go—"

  Kit crossed her arms. Her ears twitched under her scarf. "Some things are wifely duties, like earning money."

  "I don't think—"

  "If you are good, I might buy you some books."

  There was nothing for it. He might as well play along. "Oh boy! I would like that, Ma!"

  Kit grimaced.

  Timothy savored the small victory and mocked a bow. "I will leave negotiations to you but for a glimpse of your tail."

  Kit lifted her chin. "I am best at negotiations, after all." She bounced from the bed and smoothed her blouse, her tail pushing at her skirts. "New clothes are also in order." She pushed past him, laid a hand on the door knob, and smiled fangs over her shoulder. "Ruffles suit you."

  Chapter 12

  Tera clasped her shawl as the wind threw a few brown leaves into the garish press of people. Even the poorest turned out in brightly colored rags for this festival. Didn't they have better things to do? They should be praying in the church.

  "It is nothing but an excuse to drink and eat too much." Tera tapped her foot.

  Balwar and Guillermo insisted that Tahd would be in this town. They followed the stories of a kind, red-haired girl and a strange lamb. That little girl, Gristle or whatever her name was, was smitten by the demon. The Jesuits claimed Tahd would track her the same way. Was Brother Tahd really the heretic Balwar and Guillermo claimed he was?

  "A demon would enjoy this sinful festival, but Timothy will be saved. I have faith in that. Mother Mae will have to repent of her lies when I return with Timothy." Tera understood how a young man like Timothy could be seduced by the fox, especially after all Tera had seen of the demon. Many men must have fallen for that fox.

  Tera imagined Timothy lying with the red fox, the fox's white skin pressed against the boy's tan. Its small chest buried into the boy's just as…

  "Stop it. You are about God's work." She slapped her cold cheeks. "It must be the stories Brother Guillermo told me that made me think of such evil possibilities."

  "I see the hunt has a hold on you too, Sister."

  Tera whirled to see a scarred face under a forest green hood. "Brother Tahd!"

  "She is in this town." He scanned the people milling about on the street. A strange gleam burned in his eyes.

  "I already heard gossip about a beautiful red-haired girl who must be sold to pay off her husband's debt," Tera said. The festival brought more gossip than people. This or that noble found with a seamstress. This merchant lost everything gambling. A cute red-haired girl sold to pay off her father-in-law's debts. No, her husband's debts. No, she saved her husband from a slave camp.

  "It is a cunning cover." Tahd's gaze roved.

  "But wouldn't it draw attention?"

  "Exactly. Hiding in plain sight is one of the best tactics. But it doesn't matter. This is where the hunt ends. It has gone on as long as I can allow it. She will not run. Not now. The moment I love and hate is coming."

  His lips peeled back to reveal white teeth. "She won't be able to run anymore after I catch her. She won't need legs for what I have in mind. We can't let such excellent prey disappear forever." He flowed into the crowd and vanished.

  Tera's blood iced.

  "There you are, sister." Balwar appeared from the crowd.

  Tera squeaked. Did they all have to sneak around?

  "We were right. A man matching Valador's description was seen by the militia, as was a red-haired woman. Is something wrong?"

  "N…no. I am just a little cold."

  "It is too cold for autumn." The Jesuit glanced at the sky. "In any case, once Brother Guillermo returns, we can speak with the diocese and get the town's militia to help us track down the heretic."

  The look in Tahd's eyes…Tera shivered. Maybe the Jesuits were right after all.

  Kit's tail wagged. She wore a new blouse that matched the color of Timothy's shirt. Delicate lace lined the long sleeves and adorned her chest, and she wore a new pair of light brown leggings. A half-eaten plate of flat cakes lay in her hands, and honey pooled on one side of the plate. Kit ran a finger over the rim of the nearby honey pitcher. A golden rivulet slid down the pitcher and caught the fire dancing in the hearth. Her ears fluffed. Timothy picked at the ruffles in his shirt. Fool things.

  "How did you do it?" Timothy held up a gold coin. "I could eat well for a year with just one of these."

  More coins cascaded on the table. The pool of honey trapped a few of them.

  Kit failed to hide a satisfied smile behind her cup. "There are at least fifteen of those, shepherd."

  "I know. I see them. But how? Why? Why would anyone pay that much for just a few bags of rocks?"

  "It is your wife's excellent acting." Kit laid an arm over her forehead. "Oh, thank you kind sir! With this much we can pay off the debt and more besides." Her lower lip quivered.

  She lowered her arm and deepened her voice. "I cannot see a lovely lady like you needing to work to pay off such a debt. My family founded this town to provide work so such evils are no more."

  "He didn't really say that." Timothy studied one of the gold coins.

  "Nope! But I am a good actress, yes?" Kit licked honey from a finger.

  "It still doesn't make sense. They are just rocks."

  "Don't ask me. Humans are strange. Diamonds and rubies are just rocks, yet people buy them for a lot of money. Money is just metal. I like this festival! There is a lot of honey!" Kit smacked her lips.

  "Diamonds and rubies are just rocks," Timothy said. "I hadn't thought about it that way."

  "And they are more common than the rocks I sold. I said I was tired of walking. I just made sure I won't have to anymore!"

  "I wouldn't have thought about selling rocks."

  Kit shrugged and her tail slapped the air. "I am a fox, after all. If it helps you feel better, I do think you are smart in a bookish sort of way. You are just not usefully smart like me."

  "If you are so usefully smart, why didn't you do this before you met me? You could be a rich merchant."

  "A lonely merchant." Her ears wi
lted. "I…I didn't want to take this journey alone."

  "Sorry."

  She leaned back in the chair and laughed, and the chair's back legs complained. Her bare feet barely missed the honey solidifying on the table. "Today is not a day for that. Today is a day that starts our carriage rides, hot baths, and beds without fleas!" She smirked. "Besides, I am rather fond of you and your awkward, shy habits. I am fond enough that I just might want you to keep me warm one night."

  Timothy felt his face heat. "I would suffer from frostbite with your cold feet against me."

  Her smile widened. A sharp tooth escaped her lips. "You are still trying. You do have the cutest face when it flushes."

  The chair thumped. She pressed her knees against her chin. "Did you find the location of my town yet?"

  "I…I haven't asked around yet."

  Kit leaned back in the chair again and sighed. "Your one job." She tisked.

  "About that—"

  "Oh!" Coins tingled. Kit rummaged through the bag. "Here it is!" She held a cream envelope between two fingers.

  "What's that?" Timothy took the dense weave paper. The letter smelled faintly of roses. "This is an invitation to a ball."

  "The Founder's Day Merchant Social Ball. Shefar gave me the invitation himself. It's tomorrow night." Kit held up a finger. "And guess what?"

  "Absolutely not." Timothy tossed the invitation on the table. "You still have people trying to cut off your ears and tail, remember?"

  "So you forbid me?" Kit's eyes smoldered. Her finger stabbed the table.

  "Tahd is here. If it keeps you safe, yes, I forbid you to go." Timothy clapped his mouth shut. Wrong words. Those were definitely the wrong words.

  "Oh yes! My mistake." Kit slid to the floor and snatched his hand. Honey stuck to her fingers. She looked up at him through her bangs. "I am sorry, husband. I forget myself. Should I cook you something, or would you rather we work on a child? I am barefoot already. Is it okay that I made you this money? I am just a stupid girl, after all."

  Timothy groaned. "Would you stop it? You know I don't think that of you. It is just not safe to mingle with so many. What if you are discovered? Someone could just accidentally step on your tail, or a gust of wind could reveal your ears. What if Tahd is there?"