Scion of the Fox

by S. M. Beiko

  I crossed my arms, feigned disinterest. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

  It lashed out again, but Aunty rushed both of her hands into the sphere. The hunter howled, covering its head as terrible currents rushed through its cage. All at once they died away, and Aunty shoved her guilty hands into the pockets of her robe. “The hatchling must learn respect in the house of its captors.”

  The hunter was balled up now as though in a womb, visibly in pain. It wept bitterly. “No respect for Mother when she was held in the Dark Place! Mother suffered and screamed and no help! We will help Mother with revenge!”

  “The Dark Place?” Natti repeated.

  “The Bloodlands,” Phae, Barton, and I all replied in unison. This time I stepped forward, taking Natti’s place. “Your mother was there . . . a long time, wasn’t she?”

  The chastised hunter-child turned over to face me. “A hundred forevers. Mother will not forgive. Mercy is a mistake Mother will correct.”

  It seemed open to spinning its sob story, so I dove in: “Your mother was kept down in the Dark Place because of a . . . a lock that was put on her before the hundred forevers. It kept her trapped. Did your mother say where it is now?”

  This elicited another smile. At first, I thought that’s all I’d get, but the wretch spoke again. “Mother cunning and has many lovers. The Hero heard her call and freed her of her cage, but mother knew the lock would be useful. She gave it to the Gardener for keeping-safe.”

  I glanced at Sil questioningly. “The Gardener is Urka, a guardian at the prison of the Three Darklings,” she spat. “It has lived in the ash-woods since Ancient created it.”

  “So the targe is still down there somewhere with this Urka? In the Bloodlands?”

  Aunty suddenly looked very tired. She flopped onto the sofa and patted her pockets for a light and a fresh cig. “A lot of good that’ll do you, girlie. Woulda been easier to get down there maybe fourteen years ago, when the gateway at the Forks still worked.”

  The hunter had had enough of us after that. It screamed and thrashed and cried out for its mother. “Shut that thing up, Nattiq.” Aunty waved her hand, exhaling smoke through her teeth like she was at the limit of her patience. All Natti had to do was press her index finger into the water, and I knew it would freeze instantly, but I shoved her aside and, against my better judgment, thrust my hand inside the sphere. I touched the river hunter’s ghastly slick flesh, and my spirit eye flashed me out of Natti’s living room, into the future.

  Maybe it was less a prophecy and more an insinuation of future events: The sky was bruised and in swirling tumult, the sun red and ruined. The flood waters rose and swept away the fleeing people. Heaven opened a thunder-wave cataract and dumped it on the screaming people below. The city burned then drowned. Any cries were cut to silence. And in the centre, holding out her massive, powerful arms as though she was conducting a symphony — Zabor. The head and torso of a woman, and the skyscraper-long tail of a snake.

  River Serpent. Mother of Doom. She smiled in her benevolent destruction. The flood waters returned to her like a loyal dog as she moved downriver to the next city, and the next, until she had swallowed all life to her bare, scaled breasts.

  The glassy globe hit the ground with a careless thunk, the hunter prostrate inside. I was vaguely aware of a ratty carpet rubbing against my cheek, the smell of what had to be a mix of cat pee and cola sticking in my nose. I was back in the North End. Natti hauled me to my feet.

  “Roan!” Phae came to my other side. “Your eye —”

  I knew which one she meant immediately, and my hand rushed up to the spirit eye Death had given me. It was bleeding, but I brushed her aside. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” I broke out of Natti’s grasp, too. No more signs of weakness. Not after what I’d seen, what was coming. I wiped the blood away.

  Aunty laughed as if we were all being too melodramatic. “She’s had a vision. Nothing serious. Not with that little Fox at her side.”

  We all looked at Sil, the fire in her eyes kindled. “You’ve seen it, too, haven’t you?” I asked her. She only nodded.

  “Saw what?” said Barton.

  But Sil cut in. “How it will be, if you fail.”

  I scuffed my shoe near the ice sphere with the river hunter inside. It seemed less like a vision and more like the propaganda that all Zabor’s children had been fed.

  “What’ll you do with it?” I asked, meaning the globe of ice and the creature inside.

  Natti’s placid face seemed to twitch with pity. She shrugged, shrinking the captured hunter and the ice that encased it down again. “Put it in the freezer for now, I guess. No use sending it back to its mom to rat us out, and I don’t feel like cleaning tar-blood off the rug.” She hefted it up into her arms. “And what are you gonna do?”

  Aunty cut in for me. “There’s no going back now that Zabor’s had her prize meal taken right out of her mouth.” She frowned. “She’s wakin’ up, all right. And nothing’s gonna satisfy that appetite ’cept everything.”

  I came to her side at the sofa, but she avoided my eyes, brown cheek resting dolefully on a fat fist.

  “What did you mean about the gateway at the Forks?” I asked. “What happened to it fourteen years ago?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know, but I didn’t take it back.

  When she finally looked up at me, it was with the sadness I knew she’d been trying to hide. “It’s called a Bloodgate. Only Rabbits can open them. Your father opened that one. Your mother went through. You know the rest.”

  My chest felt like it had been slammed into an SUV all over again. What I knew, or at least thought I did, was that Ravenna and Aaron had gone into the river in her car either accidentally or on a suicide mission. A lie, then? Or a story fabricated by the only people I knew who could control minds and memories? My world tilted.

  Sil joined us, ears tight against her neck. “Ravenna went through?” she asked. “Into the Bloodlands?”

  Aunty fell into a coughing fit, waving her hand wildly at Natti until she came back from the kitchen with a glass of water. She drank, gratefully, but her forehead was creased in irritation. “That girl, I swear she had a rock for a skull. Couldn’t get it through her head that it couldn’t be done, that she’d fail. No. She was determined. And lord love Aaron, he’d do anything for her. For you.” She thrust a bent finger at me, and I backed up a step.

  I looked at the blood smeared in my palm from my eye. My mother’s blood. “They knew I was marked.” And so they went to do what I needed to now — find the targe. To stop it all. And they’d failed.

  “Of course they knew. And as foolish in love as the two of ’em were, I was the biggest fool of all.” Aunty leaned forwards with her hands between her knees, staring into the past. “They begged for help from everyone. No one would listen. I was dumb enough to believe in them.”

  “What . . .” I started.

  “I helped ’em do it,” Aunty spat, a mix of shame and anger flaring in her old face. “The Bloodgate was at the fork of the two rivers, and while Aaron performed the opening, I split the river aside so Ravenna could pass through it.”

  The scene played out with sick detail in my mind’s eye, as if I’d been there. My parents’ faces were, of course, obscured. But what they were willing to sacrifice to save me, and to stop Zabor . . .

  “But she didn’t come back,” I said, breaking the spell of Aunty’s words, not wanting to watch as my father let the Bloodgate snap shut, my mother lost inside forever.

  Natti took her aunt by the hand.

  Aunty stared into the couch cushion as though she’d find some solace there. “When you pass through the gate, the opener tethers you to the Earth. A physical lifeline, you could say. But it doesn’t last forever. If the opener is compromised, or the traveller is, the tether snaps. The gateway shuts. And some gates can only be opened once.”

  My knees started
going to water, and I sat down hard on a nearby footstool that was partways crushed from use. “What went wrong?” was all I could get out of my tightening throat.

  “Oh, guess,” Aunty sneered. “The Owls came. Can’t stand it when their little plans go all to hell. Not like they would’ve known, either; it was broad daylight — they don’t like that — and Ravenna played it close to the chest, didn’t tell a soul. But they got their spies everywhere.”

  “They were betrayed,” Barton murmured from the other side of the room.

  Aunty turned and surveyed him, openly ogling his missing legs until her sharp glare met his passive one. “By the same person who did that to you, kiddo.”

  The fire had returned. It was spreading through me as if my bones were dry kindling. The air around me shimmered. “Arnas.” Aaron’s own brother.

  “Did it to protect Aaron, he said. Didn’t want him getting hurt. But since the Allen incident, Arnas would do anything to get his powers back. The Owls had stripped them from him, and they did the same thing to Aaron. Gave Arnas an amulet with his brother’s Grace sealed inside, said this is all the power you’re getting from us.

  “Then they threw Aaron to the river hunters. Chum for the sharks.” She slammed her cigarette into the ashtray as her bitter tale ended, her head whipping up as I rose suddenly to my feet. I ignored the surprise in her eyes, in the faces of my friends. I saw nothing but what lay ahead.

  “Roan?” said Phae. I felt as hot as a new star. The Owls. Arnas. They had ripped my family apart for the “greater good.” I was ready to let the fire take over and incinerate everything around me, but I held it back, turned the fuel down. Saved it.

  I steeled myself, finally managing to unclench my jaw and my fists. “I think we can kill two birds with one stone. Barton, Phae, we’re going back to my place.” I turned to the Seal that had saved my life. “Natti. You said you wanted to help me. Now’s the time.” She nodded and zipped up her parka.

  I looked down at Aunty. I think she’d waited a long time to tell me all this, had thought I’d be dead before she ever could. “Thank you,” I said quietly. “For telling me. And for helping my parents when they needed you.”

  Aunty set her mouth in a thin line. “Your father let me get away once the gate shut. Didn’t tell a soul I’d been there, and the Owls never found out. It takes a lot to keep a secret from a mind reader. So I owe him my life. Sure we’re all gonna owe you ours, too, when you pummel that snake back to the pit she came from.”

  I nodded and moved to leave, but Aunty snatched my wrist, holding me back.

  “There’s another Bloodgate, kiddo. In the house of the Owls — the Pool of the Black Star. If you want that targe, it’s the only place left you can go through to get it.”

  She let go of me, leaving behind a cool pulsing handprint on my flesh. But to open that gate, we’d need a powerful Rabbit. “Two birds, one stone. Get you back your power” — I nodded at Barton — “and beat Arnas dead with it.”

  The First Rabbit

  Don’t be rash, Phae had warned.

  You can’t just walk in there and go all flame-thrower on your uncle, Barton had chimed in. I didn’t want to hear them. I wanted this to be simple.

  But when we got to the front door, ripped off and dangling from its hinges, none of my three companions, or my Fox-Yoda, said a damn thing. They were all waiting — to see if I’d explode or if I’d be the leader they needed and keep my cool.

  My fists shook at my sides, the cold air evaporating as I cut through it towards the house. Cool was the furthest thing from me at that moment. The snow shrank away from me; I pretended it was out of fear.

  On the way here, all I could think was He will pay. He will pay. Arnas was the reason my mother was trapped in the Bloodlands — either torn apart by monsters (the most likely) or still alive. He was the reason the man I called my father was dead — his brother. His cowardice. His complicity. And he’d been sleeping down the hall from me all these years. He would’ve let me die, too. He’d even tried to do the deed himself.

  And I’d left him alone with Deedee. The only person in my family who didn’t want me dead. Who genuinely loved me. I had tried to call the house. The phone rang and rang. Deedee’s phone went directly to voice mail. Seeing the ruined front door made me fear the worst.

  Sil darted into my path as I reached the stoop, her ears flattened. “It could be a trap.”

  I sidestepped her. “Of course it could be. But Deedee could be hurt. And I’m willing to take the chance.”

  Phae reached out for my hands — gloveless, newly healed. I didn’t feel anything other than the fire. And when she touched me, she stifled a cry, which was enough to stop me.

  Phae cradled her hand, flinching as the blue light from inside her spread over her burned palm and healed it before a blister could form. She looked up at me, hurt ringing in her troubled eyes.

  I was startled back to myself. “I’m sorry, I —”

  “— can’t control it. I know that.” Her words were acid. “But you’re going to have to.”

  Barton piped up in a harsh whisper. “You can’t just go in there and blow him away, Roan. Not with the Owls waiting to see if you’re dead. And not with your comatose grandma upstairs, either.”

  I froze, having completely forgotten Cecelia. I glanced down at Sil, who seemed to be faring just fine. But Cecelia was just as vulnerable as my aunt — worse so. What if —

  “I can’t show him mercy,” I seethed, trying to calm down. “I just can’t. Not after . . . and he could still do a lot of damage to us.” I turned towards the ruined door, wondering what else had been destroyed inside. It was as dark as the secret stairway underneath the house. What if he’d found the summoning chamber, too?

  Sil pawed my shin. “Your power has grown quickly,” she murmured. “And you will need that power to fight Zabor. But Foxes are not defined by their strength. It’s their cunning that gets the desired result.”

  I thought of the stone menagerie. It seemed like eons since I’d found the statue of the fox crumbled in the backyard, with a real one waiting to save my life. While the others seemed to be running, the Fox kept still in the path of ruin. The Fox waited.

  “Yeah, cunning,” Natti muttered. “Wasn’t it a Fox that made the deal with Zabor in the first place?”

  I straightened my spine at her words. “Well. I guess it’ll take a Fox to rectify that.” I turned around to face them all. “He’s my uncle. And it’s my beef. You guys don’t have to come with me. I can do this alone.”

  “Ha! Yeah, right!” Barton laughed. I started in his direction, but couldn’t help the twitch at the corner of my mouth. He was still on the bench, but he was willing to be on the front lines and have my back. “Besides,” he shrugged, seemingly reading my mind, “maybe after this I’ll finally have something to do around here.”

  Phae stood firm beside Barton, hand gripping his wrist. Her hair sparked up into antlers as smooth as lightning. She nodded.

  Natti just grunted affably. “A promise is a promise, Fox-girl. If I can help you, I will. And if you could do this alone, we wouldn’t be here, anyway.”

  I huffed, the fire that had blazed earlier now cradled in me like the heart of a blowtorch — controlled, calculated. Ready. Four was better than one, anyway. And though I knew Arnas would probably be an easy takedown, the hairs on my neck rose like needles. I stepped through the door.

  Furniture overturned. Windows shattered. TV smashed. Deedee will kill me, was the first thought. If she isn’t dead already, came the next. I swallowed.

  The lights were out. I reached for the switch and flicked it on and off. Nothing. Power cut. Phae and Natti flanked me, forming a protective V in front of Barton.

  Sil’s tail lit up like a roman candle. “There’s a strange presence. Like a Therion, only . . .”

  I nudged her with the toe of my boot, pres
sing a finger to my mouth. Silence fell, save for the sinister, sentient creaking that coalesced through the bones of the house.

  Or the earth around it.

  A seismic quake seized the house then and I pitched forward, landing hard on my palms. Phae cried out behind me, and I twisted to see the foyer light fixture falling towards my head. My eyes bugged as I raised my hands, ready to fire-blast it into oblivion, but it slammed into the white shield Phae had cast around us and bounced off like a toy.

  I scrambled to my knees, grabbing Natti in an attempt to support the both of us — her haughty, hard veneer had broken and, despite our protection, she covered her head.

  Then the earthquake stopped. Phae had herself wrapped around Barton, keeping his wheelchair from toppling, her antlers rippling blue in the dark of the foyer. She let out a hard breath, forehead glistening and face ashen as the shield flickered away.

  “What the hell was that?” Barton hissed.

  Sil’s tail sparked in cadence with her growling. “Whatever it is, it’s hiding beneath the house. And it’s taunting us.”

  I jolted. “Could it be in the summoning chamber? Do you think it’s Arnas?”

  Sil looked away. “I think it used to be Arnas.”

  A chill vibrated up my spine, an internal earthquake. “Then we better go down there before the house crumbles on top of us.”

  I got to my feet, shucking my coat and tossing it on the askew sofa. “Phae, stay with Barton. Natti, you’re with us.”

  “But what if —” Phae jerked forward, hand on her head. Barton reached out and caught her, his arms steady.

  “You’re drained,” he whispered, smiling ruefully. “You’re no good to anyone dead. I’ll only be a burden for a little while longer, I swear.”

  A pang of sadness and sheer anxiety lanced my heart. What if this crazy power-stealing mission didn’t even work?

  Phae’s eyes went round with dismay. “You’re not a burden! Don’t you dare . . .” Her plea was lost as another wave of dizziness overcame her. Barton gathered her as close to him as the wheelchair would allow.