Weird Detectives

by Neil Gaiman, Simon R. Green, Caitlin R. Kiernan

  “It wasn’t like that,” Lord Abe said quietly. “Kuzunoha loved me. I do not know what drove her to leave or to make this confession, but I was never in danger from her.”

  “You want me to find her, then?” I had to ask. There were at least as many fools among the nobility as elsewhere, and there was always someone who thought the rules didn’t apply to him. I was more than a little relieved to discover that Lord Abe was not that stupid.

  He shook his head. His expression had not changed, but his eyes were moist and glistening. “Lady Kuzunoha is correct that we cannot be together now, but she should not have asked me to give up Doshi as well.”

  “Doshi?”

  “My son, Yamada-san. She took my . . . our son.”

  I was beginning to see what he meant by “complicated.”

  “I take it you’ve already searched Shinoda Forest?” That was an easy supposition to make. I already knew what he’d found, otherwise I wouldn’t be there.

  He sighed. “I should have gone personally, but I did not trust myself to let Kuzunoha go if I ever held her again. My mother suggested we send my personal retainers and in my weakness I agreed. They searched thoroughly, and I lost two good men to an ogre in the process. There was no sign of either Kuzunoha or Doshi.” He looked at me. “That is your task, Yamada-san. I want you to find my son and return him to me.”

  “Again I must ask your pardon, Lord, but is this wise? The boy will be half-fox himself. Isn’t there a danger?”

  His smile was so faint one might have missed it, but I did not. “There’s always a danger, Yamada-san. If we are fortunate we get to decide which ones we choose to face. I want my son back.”

  “By any means required?”

  “Do not harm Lady Kuzunoha. With that one exception, do what you must.”

  At least my goal was clear enough. I didn’t for one moment think it was going to be easy.

  Another advantage of being of the noble class was that it entitled you to carry weapons openly, and Shinoda Forest was not a place you wanted to go empty-handed. The place had a deserved reputation for being the haunt of fox spirits and worse; most bandits even avoided the place, and any bandit who didn’t was not the sort you wanted to meet. Yet here I was, for the princely sum of five imported Chinese bronze coins and one kin of uncooked rice a day, plus reasonable expenses. You can be sure I counted that payment to the red lantern ghost as “reasonable.”

  There was a path. Not much of one, but I stuck to it. There was a danger in keeping to the only known path in a wood full of monsters, not to mention it might make finding Lady Kuzunoha even more difficult, but I kept to the path anyway. Getting lost in Shinoda Forest would have done neither me nor my patron much good.

  Even so, once you got past the fact that the woods were full of things that wanted to kill you, it was a very beautiful place. There was a hint of fall in the air; the maple leaves were beginning to shade into red, contrasting with the deep green of the rest of the wood. The scent was earthy but not unpleasant. It had been some time since I’d been out of the city and I was enjoying the scent and sounds of a true forest. Too much so, perhaps, otherwise I would never have been caught so easily.

  I hadn’t walked three paces past a large stone when the world went black. When I woke up, I almost wished I hadn’t: my head felt like two shou of plum wine crammed into a one shou cask. For a moment I honestly thought it would explode. After a little while, the pain eased enough for me to open my eyes. It was early evening, though of which day I had no idea. I was lying on my side, trussed like a deer on a carrying pole, and about ten feet from a campfire. Sitting beside that campfire were two of the biggest, most unpleasant-looking men it had ever been my misfortune to get ambushed by. They were both built like stone temple guardians, and their arms were as thick as my legs. Otherwise there wasn’t much to separate them, save one was missing an ear and the other’s nose had been split near the tip. One look at them and my aching brain only had room for one question:

  Why am I still alive?

  I must have moaned with the effort of keeping my eyes open, since one of the bandits glanced in my direction and grunted.

  “He’s awake. Good. I thought you’d killed him. You know an ogre likes ’em fresh.”

  There was my answer, though it went without saying that I didn’t care for it. Maybe I could get a better one. “You two gentlemen work for an ogre?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” said Missing Ear. “The ogre is just a bonus. Our employer wants you dead, and, since you’re dead either way, we sell you to the ogre that lives in this forest. That’s good business.”

  He clearly wasn’t the brightest blade in the rack, but I couldn’t fault his mercantile instincts. “So who are you working for?”

  “You’re dead. What do you care?”

  “If I’m going to die, I’d like to know why. Besides, if I’m good as dead it’s not like I’ll be telling anyone.”

  “Well, if you must know—oww!” Missing Ear began, but then Split Nose leaned over and rapped him sharply on the back of his skull.

  “You know what she said about talking too much,” he said. “What if she found out? Do you want her angry at you? I’d sooner take my chances with the ogre.”

  Her. At this point there didn’t seem to be much question as to whom they meant.

  Missing Ear rubbed his head. He had a sour look on his face, but what his companion had said to him apparently sank in. “No. That would be . . . bad.”

  “So far we’ve done everything like she said. The ogre will see our fire soon and come for this fool, and that’s that. We can get out of this demon-blighted place.”

  “You two are making a big mistake. I’m acting as proxy for Lord Abe. An insult to me is an insult to him.” It wasn’t much, but it was all I had. I was still surprised at the bandits’ reaction. They glanced at each other and burst out laughing.

  “We know why you’re here, baka,” said Split Nose when he regained his composure. “Now, be a well-behaved meal and wait for the ogre.”

  The bandits obviously knew more about this matter than I did. It was also obvious that they had searched me before they tied me up. I could see my pack near the campfire and my tachi leaning against a boulder only a few feet away. It was the only decent material object I owned, a gift from the grateful father of a particularly foolish young man whose good name I was able to salvage. It was a beautiful sword, with sharkskin-covered grip and scabbard both dyed black. The tsuba was of black iron and the blade, I had occasion to know, was sharp enough to shave with. If only I could reach it, I could demonstrate that virtue on my captors, but it was impossible. As close as the tachi was, it might as well have been in Mongolia for all the good of it. Try as I might, I could not get free of the ropes. I flashed back on something Lord Abe had said.

  “Love and happiness are both illusions.”

  To which I could add that life was fleeing and illusory itself. I might not have been much for the temple, but the priests had that much right. The best I could hope for now was that the ogre was more hungry than cruel; then at least he would be quick.

  There was a very faint rustling in the undergrowth. At first I thought it was the ogre coming for his supper, but then I couldn’t quite imagine something that large moving so quietly. A light flared and I assumed someone had lit a torch, but the flame turned blue and then floated over the campsite and disappeared. Then, almost on cue, thirteen additional blue fires kindled in the darkness just beyond the campfire.

  Yurrei . . . ? Oh, hell.

  Ghosts were just like youkai in one important respect—there were ghosts, and then there were ghosts. Some, like the red lantern ghost Seita, were reasonable folk once you got to know them. Some, however, tended to be angry at everything living. Judging from the onibi and balefire I was seeing now, all three of us were pretty much stew for the same pot. Split Nose and Missing Ear knew it too. The pair of them had turned whiter than a funeral kimono, and for a moment they actually hugged each othe
r, though Split Nose managed to compose himself enough to rap Missing Ear’s skull again.

  “You idiot! You made camp in a graveyard!”

  “Wasn’t no graveyard here!” Missing Ear protested, but Split Nose was already pointing back toward me.

  “What’s that, then?”

  I was having some trouble moving my head, but I managed to see what they were seeing, not ten feet away on the far side of me. It was a stone grave marker, half-covered in weeds and vines, but still visible enough even in the firelight.

  When I looked back at the bandits the ghost was already there, hovering about two feet off the ground. It might have been female; it was wearing a funeral white kimono but the way its kimono was tied was about as feminine as the specter got. Its mouth was three feet wide and full of sharp teeth, its eyes were as big as soup bowls and just as bulging. One of its hands was tucked within the kimono, but the other, pointing directly at the cowering bandits, bore talons as long as knives.

  YOU HAVE DISTURBED ME. PREPARE TO DIE. The ghost’s voice boomed like thunder, and the blue fires showed traces of red.

  “Mercy!” cried Split Nose. “It was a mistake!”

  YES. NOW PREPARE TO ATONE!

  “Mercy!” they both cried again and bowed low.

  The revenant seemed to consider. BOW LOWER, DOGS.

  They did so. Then came two flashes of silver, and the bandits slumped over into a heap. In an instant the balefires went out, and the ghost floated down to earth, and then she wasn’t a ghost at all but a woman carrying a sword.

  My sword.

  I glanced at the boulder and saw that the tachi was missing, though its scabbard still leaned against the stone. The grave stone was gone, but by this time I expected that. Fox spirits were masters of illusion. The woman turned to face me.

  I had never seen a more beautiful woman in my life. A master painter could not have rendered a face more perfect, or hair so long and glossy black that it shone like dark fire. She seemed little more than a delicate young woman, but the ease with which she handled my sword and the twitching bodies of the two bandits said otherwise. She walked over to me without a second glance at the carnage behind her.

  “Lady Kuzunoha?” I made it sound like a question, but really it wasn’t.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  “My name is Yamada no Goji. Lord Abe sent me.”

  “I’ve heard of you, Yamada-san. Well, then. Let’s get this over with.”

  She raised the sword again, and I closed my eyes. I would have said a prayer if I could have thought of one. All I could manage was the obvious.

  This is my death . . .

  I heard the angry whoosh of the blade as it cut through the air. It took me several long seconds to realize that it hadn’t cut through me. Not only was I still alive, but my hands were free. Another whoosh and my legs were free as well, though both arms and legs were too numb from the ropes to be of much use to me at first. While I struggled to get to my feet, Lady Kuzunoha calmly walked back to the bandits and took a wrapping-cloth from one of their pouches which she used to methodically clean the blade. I had just managed to sit up when she returned the long sword to its scabbard and tossed it at my feet.

  “I wouldn’t advise staying here too long, Yamada-san,” she said. “The ogre will be here soon.”

  “I’m afraid he’s going to be disappointed,” I said.

  She shook her head, and she smiled. “Oh, no. Those two are still alive. We foxes know much of the nature of the spine and where to break it. They’ll die soon enough, but probably not before they’re eaten. The fools would have been eaten in either case, of course. Ogres don’t make bargains with meat.”

  Her words were like cold water. If they couldn’t totally negate the effect her beauty was having on me, at least they reminded me that I wasn’t dealing with a human being. An important point that I had best remember. I got to my feet a little unsteadily.

  “My thanks for saving me, Kuzunoha-sama,” I said, “but I’m afraid that I have some business with you yet.”

  “So I assumed. The path is about fifteen paces ahead of you. Stay on it until you reach the river. You’ll be able to hear a waterfall,” she said. “I’ll be waiting for you there.”

  Lady Kuzunoha moved quickly away from me. In a moment her image shimmered, and I saw her true form, a silver fox bearing the second tail that betrayed her spirit nature. She ran swiftly and was soon out of sight. I gathered my belongings and hobbled along the way she had gone as best I could.

  I wasn’t clear on a lot of things, not the least of which was why Lady Kuzunoha had bothered to save my life. After all, if she knew who sent me, then she knew why I had come and, if she’d been willing to surrender the boy in the first place, she could have arranged that easily enough while Lord Abe’s men searched the wood. And if she wasn’t willing to give up the child, why not just kill me? It’s not as if I could have done anything to stop her, and if I had any doubts of either her ability or will in that regard, I had the wretched bandits’ example to prove otherwise.

  A lot of things didn’t make sense, and if I wanted any answers I’d have to go much deeper into Shinoda Forest to get them. Part of me wondered if I might be better off taking my chances with the ogre. Then I heard a large crashing noise in the forest back the way I’d come and decided not. I picked up the pace as much as the headache and my tingling limbs allowed.

  I’d been careless once and was lucky to be alive. This time as I moved down the path, I had my sword out and ready. I wasn’t sure how much good it would do me against what I’d likely face, but the grip felt comforting in my hand.

  I came to the place Lady Kuzunoha described and followed the sound of rushing water. A cold water stream rushing down the adjacent hill formed a twelve-foot waterfall into the river’s rocky shallows. Lady Kuzunoha was in human form again. She stood directly underneath the rushing water, her slim fingers pressed together in an attitude of prayer, her long black hair flowing over her body like a cloak. Her hair was the only thing covering her. For a little while I forgot to breathe.

  I knew Lady Kuzunoha’s human form was an actual transformation and not simply illusion, else she would never have been able to bear a human child, but I also knew it was not her true form. Knowing this did not help me at all. The only thing that did was the sharp and clear memory of what she had done to those two hapless bandits; that was my cold waterfall. That left the question of why Lady Kuzunoha needed one.

  When I finally managed to look away, I noticed Lady Kuzunoha’s kimono neatly folded on top of a flat stone nearby. I’m still not sure why I turned away. Maybe it was my common sense, warning me of danger. Or maybe I had come to the reluctant—and relieved—conclusion that this little show was not being staged for my benefit. Lady Kuzunoha was preparing herself for something, but I didn’t have any idea as to what that might be.

  There was a small clearing nearby; I waited there. Lady Kuzunoha finally emerged, now fully dressed, her hair still wet but combed out and orderly. If anything she appeared more winsome than before. She looked sad but resolute as she approached the center of the clearing. In her sash she had tucked one of those slim daggers that high-born ladies tended to carry both as self-defense and a symbol of rank. She knelt beside me, looking away.

  “I’m ready,” she said. She drew the dagger and put the naked blade across her thighs.

  I frowned. Maybe Seita the ghost was right about me, since what came out of my mouth then wasn’t very intelligent. “I don’t understand. Ready for what, Lady Kuzunoha?”

  It was as if she hadn’t even heard me. “I would send my love a poem but words are useless now. You may take back whatever proofs your master requires. Now stand ready to assist me.”

  The light dawned. The waterfall was a purification rite, which would explain the prayer but not much else. “You think I’m here to kill you!”

  Lady Kuzunoha looked up at me. “Do not mock me, Yamada-san. I saved your life, and I think I’m
due the courtesy of the truth. Did Lord Abe send you or not?”

  “I have his writ and seal if you doubt me. But I am no assassin, whatever you may have heard of me.”

  Now Lady Kuzunoha looked confused. “But . . . what else? I cannot return. He knows that.”

  If Lady Kuzunoha was confused, I was doubly so, but at least I had the presence of mind to reach down and take the knife away from her. “First of all, assuming I had been sent to harm you, will you please explain why you’re being so cooperative?”

  She frowned. “Did my husband not explain the circumstances of our first meeting?”

  “He didn’t have to—I saw your message. You said that he rescued you from hunters . . . before he knew that you and the silver fox were one and the same, I mean.”

  “There was even more to it that he didn’t know, Yamada-san. You see, I was already in love with Lord Abe, from the day his procession rode past Shinoda Forest three years ago. I came to the Inari Shrine in the first place because I knew he would be there. He already owned my heart, but from that day forward he owned my life as well. If now he requires that of me, who am I to deny my love what is his by right?”

  Now it was starting to make some sense. No one had ever claimed that self-sacrifice was a fox trait, but I knew love made people do silly things, and it was clear even to a lout like me that Lady Kuzunoha, fox spirit or no, was still deeply in love with her husband. I had suspected that Lord Abe was deluding himself on that point, but now I knew better.

  “If Lord Abe didn’t know you were a fox, why did you leave him?”

  “I didn’t want to,” Lady Kuzunoha said, sadly. “I tried so hard . . . You know what I am, Yamada-san. The body I wear now is real, but it is a sort of mask. Sometimes the mask slips; that’s unavoidable. Yet it was happening to me more and more. In my foolishness I thought I would be spared this, but the burden of pretending to be something I am not became too much, even for his sake. It was only a matter of time before my true nature would be revealed and my husband and his family shamed. I could no longer take that risk. I am a fraud, but I was honest with my husband about why I had to leave. He did not come himself, so I assume he hates me now.”