The Fox's Mask

by Anna Frost

  “I’ll handle Aito.” Jien drained his teacup in a manner better suited to drinking alcohol than tea. “And you need to handle your apprentice. He likes you.”

  “I don’t understand why everybody is intent on speaking of it.”

  “What is there to understand, Aki? This is what my teacher called ‘the pressure of society to force the individual to conform’ or something pretentious like that. He’s your protégé. You’re a samurai. Everybody expects you to make a move, especially him.”

  “Everybody expects me to get married too.”

  “Hey, you could kill two birds with one stone.”

  Akakiba wished he’d asked for sake. Talking with Jien made him want to drink heavily. “He’ll get over it in time.”

  “Ha! I doubt it. He was clinging to your back all day long. He probably thought we wouldn’t notice he was taking advantage of the situation. He’s got a bad case of hero-worship.”

  “I’m no hero,” he snapped. “Yuki knows that.”

  Jien glanced at him sideways. “What happened? Oh, don’t scowl. I’m certain Yuki will tell me if you won’t.”

  “Why don’t you shut up? I’m losing patience.”

  “I’m just saying, it’s not kind to lead him on.” Jien left him alone after that, drinking quietly.

  Perhaps he should have thought about it more carefully before deciding to go on a mission with Jien. But if they ended up needing an exorcist, it would be worth it. Even the worst spirit couldn’t out-stubborn that monk.

  Or out-talk him.

  Hours later, he had his head hidden under his futon, because Jien would not stop talking. It would have been easier to scold him if Yuki hadn’t been the other side of the conversation. If he told them to shut up, Yuki might take it personally and not talk again for three days. If there was one thing he’d learned early on, it was how seriously Yuki took his criticism.

  Maybe Jien was right about the hero-worship thing. And wasn’t that a depressing thought. The two of them were talking about the general population’s misconceptions about spirits or something useless like that.

  “You’re right about that,” Jien said to Yuki. “At the base, there’s no difference between spirits and demons. They’re all spirits with different behaviors. Helpful spirits get called ‘good,’ hostile spirits get called ‘evil,’ and spirits strong enough to materialize and eat people get called ‘demons.’ Some good spirits are every bit as strong as so-called demons, they just don’t use their strength that way. You could almost classify the Fox clan as a spirit branch too.”

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “Oh…I forgot you didn’t know about that.”

  “About what?”

  Akakiba rolled over to interrupt them before Jien started spilling secrets that didn’t belong to him. “There’s a legend that hints that we’re descended from the union of fox spirits and humans. Nobody knows how true it is. Now go to sleep or you’ll fall out of the saddle later.”

  He hadn’t lied. There was such a legend. He just hadn’t mentioned the part where he, and those like him, were provably different than normal people. Maybe they were literally half-spirit like Jien had suggested. Most of the clan believed it was so. Others thought they were closer in nature to dragons, because dragons possessed abilities that no other animals had, the same way that those of his clan possessed abilities than no other people did.

  Who could know the truth, really?

  They rode another day. To Akakiba’s dismay, Jien rode nearby and spent a great deal of time talking to Yuki and sharing tales, some of which weren’t his to tell.

  The story of their first collaboration wasn’t a problem. Long ago, Jien had run into an evil spirit bigger than him and a not-quite-fifteen Akakiba had given assistance, removing the wounded monk from the haunted house.

  “I was in bad shape, but I held on,” Jien said. “While Aki carried me out, I protected the both of us with powerful mantras. We made it to safety and—”

  “That’s not how I remember it,” he protested. “You weren’t really conscious, you were muttering nonsense. If those mutters were supposed to be protective spells, they couldn’t be very good ones, because I got slashed across the back.”

  “Don’t interrupt, Aki, it’s rude. Right, so we took the time to recover and went back in—”

  “And you got hurt again,” he helpfully added.

  Now it was Yuki who chastised him. “Let Jien finish.”

  No, that wasn’t a problem story. The problem stories were the ones Jien told about events that had occurred at the clan house, events that he’d witnessed because Akakiba had brought him there so he could recover from the psychic wounds he’d incurred during their aforementioned adventure.

  There was a story about a fight he’d gotten into with a rude cousin who’d mocked his preference to wear his hair long and, worse, one about dogs. Those damned dogs that could tell he was a fox and hated him for it.

  “Up a tree? I saw him do that too!” Yuki said, laughing. “I’ve never seen anyone as disliked by dogs as he is. It must be his scent.”

  “They’re all like that in the family,” Jien said, “but Aki’s extra-special. In truth, I heard this story from his father. He found the incident hilarious. His mother wasn’t as pleased. Oh, I have another! That one time—”

  He couldn’t bear to hear another “Let’s humiliate Aki!” story. “Allow me to share a story too,” he interrupted. “It’s the story of how a certain monk was found drunk and naked in the pond, claiming he was a koi.”

  Jien nudged his horse into a gallop. “We should hurry, the enemy is waiting!”

  Kaze didn’t need to be urged to catch up. Akakiba raised his voice as he began, “It started as a bet that Jien couldn’t out-drink a girl cousin of mine…”

  By the time he was finished recounting the event, ending with, “And that’s when I fished him out of the pond and slapped him back to sobriety,” Yuki was laughing so hard he was nearly crying. Aito, who’d caught up at some point, was similarly affected, his shoulders shaking.

  Jien huddled on his horse. “You’re cruel, Aki.”

  That was the end of embarrassing stories.

  They left the main road the third day, Aito in the lead, and reduced their pace. From here onward, they were in potentially hostile territory and couldn’t risk a horse’s injury.

  The dense forest swallowed them, surrounding them with walls of brilliant spring greens that could have hidden anything. Akakiba rested a hand on his sword, gaze sweeping back and forth and ears listening to the murmur of animal life to detect any disturbance.

  A river slashed through the forest like a sword cut, its waters rushing fast and furious over large rocks. The horses went to drink and so did their riders.

  “There’s a great dragon in this river,” Aito said. “We’re safe.”

  He relaxed, less worried now that the sound of water might cover the sound of an approaching enemy. Cultists would stay far away from a dragon’s residence.

  “We’ll have to cross,” Aito went on. “There’s a bridge upstream, but they might have posted a lookout. I suggest we leave the horses here and wade through.”

  “Dragons don’t eat people, do they?” Yuki asked quietly.

  Jien laughed. “That’s just a story told to bad children.”

  “Oh, good. Then perhaps you should all turn around.”

  They did. The top of a great dragon’s head was visible, horns and eyes rising above the surface. Or simply eye, for the left one was missing. The creature’s true size was revealed when it rose farther above the water, its long, blue body showing terrible scars likely caused by territorial fights.

  Their mounts whickered nervously, shying away. The great dragon was bigger than the three horses put together and could have eaten one for lunch.

  “Good day, old mother,” Akakiba said with a deep bow. “We didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “You’re one of the foxes,” the dragon spoke, her voice dee
p and resonant. She crept partway onto the bank and peered at him with her cloudy eye. “Do you hunt the demons, fox child?”

  “Yes. Have you seen them?”

  “Seen?” The dragon reared. The only reason the horses didn’t bolt was that Jien and Aito had hastily tied them to the nearest tree. “They attacked my eggs! Two of my children are dead, and this one soon will be too.”

  Akakiba noticed then that the dark thing curled on the great dragon’s head was a baby. Not quite newly born, but close.

  “He cannot live underwater at this age, but if he goes to the forest they will hunt him down,” the dragon said mournfully. “I cannot stay awake and swim at the surface permanently, but I have tried for the sake of my last child.” She jerked her head up, nostrils flaring. “Are those humans I smell? Yes, you brought humans! Come forward humans, come.”

  The humans edged forward, Jien first. “Hello, old mother.”

  “Take my child,” the dragon commanded.

  “Ah, er, I would love to…” There was a but hanging in the air, and Akakiba knew what it was: low-ranked sohei were forbidden to own dragons.

  “Yuki, come here,” he beckoned. “You’d love to raise a dragon, wouldn’t you?”

  Jien pushed Yuki forward in a manner that looked suspiciously as though he were hiding behind the younger man. “Yes, indeed. This man will take good care of your little one, old mother.”

  Pushed within touching distance of the great dragon’s face, Yuki had no choice but to reach out to the baby. Its mother rumbled in encouragement, and it crept into Yuki’s hands, then climbed up to hide in his thick brown hair.

  A great sigh came from the old dragon as she sank back into the river, water roiling around her. “Find the demons that crushed my eggs, fox child, and punish them. You will find them to the east.”

  Catching Yuki’s arm, Akakiba dragged him forward as he said, “If you permit, old mother…”

  Using the dragon’s scaled body as a bridge, they crossed the river easily, barely getting their feet wet. Afterwards, the dragon dove and was gone.

  “She had big, big teeth,” Yuki said with a gulp. “I’m glad they don’t eat people. But what am I to do with the little one? I thought great dragons were wild and didn’t take to people like the small breed does.”

  “Not usually, no. But his mother told him otherwise,” Akakiba said. “He’s already adopted you. Stop walking so slowly. He won’t fall off.”

  “That aside,” Jien said, “she confirmed our suspicions, didn’t she? If there are demons nearby, it must be a cult we’re dealing with.”

  Aito grunted. “They could be worse than mere demon worshippers. Now come.” He stalked off into the greenery.

  Jien explained, speaking in a low voice now that they were on the move, “Aito thinks he saw them cut a girl’s arm. If they’re that kind, it makes sense.”

  “What kind?”

  “Oh, well. Certain cults offer human bodies as tribute. Live ones. Demons tend to possess people through the mouth, but there are ways for a person to resist that, like by biting down. That’s why cultists tend to provide demons a safer way in by injuring the person.”

  Aito shushed them. “We’re close.”

  He led them to a stream that had over time bitten deep into the earth so that its bed was much lower than its banks. They walked into it to be better concealed. Cold water rose halfway to their knees, wetting the hems of their clothes and forcing them to reduce their speed to a crawl to avoid making splashing noises.

  They knew they had arrived when they began hearing the distant murmur of human speech. The sound of rushing water had faded, the current moving sluggishly, but Akakiba couldn’t hear any birds singing. Something was scaring them quiet.

  That was when Aito stopped and, after trading a look and a word with Jien, turned back. His duty was to report if the mission went amiss and for that he could not stay with them.

  “Sunrise,” Jien repeated. That was the cut-off time. If they failed to return by then…

  Crawling out of the stream and to the edge of the forest, Akakiba laid down behind bushes for cover. Ahead, the stream snaked in the open. In one spot, its left bank had been dug into a slope for easy access.

  It was no temporary camp that stood here, but a village with two dozen tidy homes and the usual rice fields beyond. Less usual was the high number of men and women wandering in the village instead of working the rice fields. A great many of them were young adults. Children and elders were strangely absent. Furthermore their auras were strange, tainted with demon energy. How many demons did it take to taint dozens of humans to this extent?

  “There’s something wrong with these people,” Yuki murmured.

  Jien crawled to join them. “Are you developing a sensitivity to auras, Yuki? It wouldn’t be surprising with the company you keep. The air around them is distorted by something you can almost see but not quite, right?”

  “Yes, it’s like that.”

  “We need to get closer,” Akakiba said. “I want to know what’s in that animal pen and why it’s guarded.” Why would an animal pen need walls taller than a person? Were there horses in there? Weapons? An altar covered in the blood of sacrificed victims?

  If there were demons in the village, they would sense a fox quicker than they’d sense a human that didn’t belong. Knowing this, he said nothing when Jien slipped away without his too-distinctive spear. He’d dressed normally for the mission rather than in sohei clothes, but the straw hat didn’t entirely conceal the fact he was shaved bald like, well, a monk.

  The villagers didn’t greet each other in passing, and the women walked like men, without femininity or care for their clothing. Nobody came to wash clothes, the riverside deserted. He would have liked to confront a cultist or two, but he couldn’t do so if everybody stayed in the village together.

  The sun drifted across the sky, and still they laid waiting. When a mouse scurried past, fooled into complacency by their prolonged immobility, he seized it for the baby dragon’s lunch. They themselves made do with the supply of rice cakes they had brought.

  A cry went up. Jien darted out of the village, pursued by a handful of men. He was coming toward the forest but angling to enter it far from their position to keep them safe from discovery.

  Yuki rose to his knees, grasping Jien’s spear. “We have to help!”

  Perhaps it would have been logical to sacrifice Jien so the two of them might remain undiscovered, but Akakiba’s sense of honor wouldn’t allow it. Jien was one of his humans and therefore his responsibility. The monk might also possess the information they sought.

  They retreated from the edge of the forest to remain unseen and ran toward the point where Jien would reach the tree line. The five men in pursuit would be no match for the three of them together.

  Akakiba yelled wordlessly as they approached, drawing the pursuers’ startled attention. Targeting the largest man, he dove in for the kill. The man’s blade came up to block, and Akakiba’s eyebrows rose. Who was this man who wielded a blade like he knew how to use it? A samurai in a demon cult or a peasant with natural skill?

  Jumping back, he angled his sword just so and poured strength into a downward slash. His opponent tried to block, but the poorly-made sword shattered under the blow. Metal bit deeply into flesh, once, twice—and he was kicking the corpse off his blade. The other men were down, also slain.

  A quick look back showed that a larger party was on the way, a dozen men and women armed with swords, knives, or farming implements. Jien had hardly had time to catch his breath, and Yuki was so pale he might have been be in shock from his first human kill, but they had no choice but to flee now and rest later.

  It was difficult to run in the forest, where rocks, low branches, and thick roots abounded. He took the lead, breaking branches and trampling bushes to smooth the way. He glanced over his shoulder: Yuki was on his heels and Jien in the rear, spear in hand.

  Farther back, the mob was in pursuit. They said nothin
g, screamed nothing. They only came, following the path he was so conveniently making for them.

  “The river,” Jien gasped.

  If they could get there, the dragon’s mere existence would give the cultists pause. Dragons didn’t normally eat people, but the old mother might make an exception for the people who’d crushed her eggs.

  The sound of rushing water guided them back toward the river, but they couldn’t get close to the bank, for there were several figures standing between it and them. Had it all been a trap? How had they known?

  Without consulting each other, the three of them veered right in an effort to go around the bulk of the enemy line. With the heat of battle-frenzy spurring them on, they prepared for the clash, blades drawn and ready to strike.

  The trap was much more elaborate than Akakiba had anticipated. He realized this as the ground disappeared from under his feet, sending him face first into a camouflaged hole. It wasn’t deep, not meant to kill, but he hit the ground hard, and his shoulder dislocated under the impact. Not his sword-arm shoulder: he had instinctively protected that one, turning it upward.

  He scrambled to his feet despite the pain. Yuki was on the ground, stunned, but the monk was absent. “Jien?”

  “He vaulted over with his spear,” Yuki said, after spitting out a mouthful of dirt. “Like an acrobat. I don’t think they’ll catch him.”

  “Good.” Akakiba hoped the information Jien had uncovered was worth their death, for it seemed inevitable now. The cultists were aiming bows at them. Bows! Where had they gotten those? When had they learned to use them?

  Still, a fox didn’t go down easily. He tensed and prepared to unleash his full strength. He could exit the hole in one inhuman leap, taking the enemy off-guard. Surely he could take down half of them, perhaps enough to afford Yuki a chance to escape. The river was so close…

  A man stepped forward. His face was as expressionless as the others, aside from a glint of smugness in his gaze. “Do you surrender?”

  Normally, a captured samurai would be ransomed. These people might prefer to sacrifice him to their demon lord. Might it not be better if they killed him now rather than bring him back to the village where a demon might recognize what he was? Was it too late to care about secrecy? The cultists had likely found out that Jien was a monk. From there it wouldn’t be difficult for a person of average intellect to make the link to the famous demon-fighting sohei of the Great Temples and to their samurai allies, the Fox clan.