The Fox's Mask

by Anna Frost

  “No, no, please,” Seiji said. “Don’t trouble yourself on my account.”

  “Or mine,” Sakura murmured.

  “Perhaps Seiji would like to see the gardens,” Akakiba said. It wasn’t a suggestion. “Why don’t you give him a tour, Sanae?”

  “That would be most interesting,” Seiji agreed hastily.

  “Oh, yes.” Sanae slid the door leading outside. “Yes. This way…”

  When the pair had gone, Yuki laughed. “You should have seen your face. You looked about to murder the poor boy.”

  “The ‘poor boy’ is older than you.”

  “He’s not much of a fighter,” Sakura said. “Too gentle.” The tenderness in her voice revealed her feelings to any who heard.

  The silence stretched awkwardly until he ventured, “Why did you come together?”

  “Oh, Father wouldn’t let me come alone, but he couldn’t close the shop to come with me. When Seiji dropped by asking if we had dragon shell powder to sell, I guessed where he was going and demanded to come along. I’m glad you’re well, the both of you. The rumors were so terrible, but it appears I’m not needed.” Sakura patted the large medicine box. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have dragged this heavy thing so far.”

  “Thank you for your concern,” he said automatically, his thoughts elsewhere. Finally, he offered, “I could object to the match. Why should I allow my sister to marry a man from a lowbred family?”

  “Oh, you can’t! It’s important to his family.”

  “Why should that concern me?”

  “You don’t understand. They’re in a difficult situation, because his father has gambling debts. Because my family is no richer, I’m not a suitable match. But if they marry their eldest into the famed Fox clan, the younger daughters could marry well despite the lack of a dowry.” She paused, fidgeting, and her voiced dropped to a whisper. “They must marry them off quickly. One of their creditors threatened to take the youngest as payment. She’d be put in the brothels. I don’t want that to happen.”

  Yuki emitted a noise that was strangely reminiscent of his dragon’s warning hiss. “Nobody’s going to sell anyone while we’re around! Right, Akakiba?”

  He settled for a firm grunt, ashamed to realize that Yuki was convinced he would fly to some stranger’s aid. The truth was, he didn’t consider protecting humans from other humans part of his duties. Because conforming was less painful than breaking Yuki’s illusions, he said, “Give me a name, Sakura. This creditor, who is it?”

  An expression of hope flickered across her face. “Do you remember the man who made trouble over the egg? That’s him. Matsumoto Jun. Dreadful man.”

  The name caught Akakiba’s attention as surely as a rabbit catches a fox’s. “That Matsumoto? He’s trying to take revenge on Seiji for intervening in his dispute with me, isn’t he? It takes a rare fool to attack our clan’s allies. Leave it to us.” He’d have a word with his mother. She’d be furious to hear of this, and the problem named Matsumoto would disappear, one way or another.

  Sakura rose to her feet, and they followed suit. “Thank you for your kindness,” she said, bowing low. “I should go and let you rest.”

  “Yuki, would you escort Sakura and Seiji to the gate? I need to speak with my sister.”

  When Sanae heard him say the same to her moments later, she looked apprehensive. They were soon alone, the others gone.

  “I’m sorry, Brother,” Sanae said, kneeling and fussing with her clothing. “I didn’t know there were romantic feelings between Seiji and your friend.”

  “That’s their problem.” He’d done what he could for Sakura. “I’m worried about you. Mother and Father are trying to match you already?”

  “I’m an adult now. It’s inevitable.”

  “You don’t have to do as they wish. You’re your own person.”

  “Someone has to help the clan survive.” Sanae’s voice had gone uncharacteristically soft and gentle. “You can’t do it so I will. I do want children. I would have preferred to wait, but it can’t be helped.”

  He shoved his instinctive defensiveness away. His sister spoke the truth, and there was no condemnation in her voice. Staring at the wall, he said, “You’re stronger than I am.”

  “I’m not criticizing you, Brother. If it makes you happy to live as you do, then it’s good. When you decide to have children, I’ll foster them for you and teach them our ways.”

  “I don’t want children.”

  “You’ll change your mind one day. When you do, I’ll be here.”

  Not liking where the conversation was heading, Akakiba swiftly changed the subject to one of a less personal nature. “You’re intent on participating in the fight, aren’t you? I would rather have you stay and protect the young ones. Surviving shinobi may return for revenge.”

  “They’ll be fine. Grandmother Naoko will see to it. Even shinobi would never find the tunnel.”

  Sanae meant the fox-dug tunnel that led from the clan house to a cave that served as a refuge during wartime. Those left behind when the clan went to war—human women, children, and the elderly—were often in need of a secure location to discourage potential attackers. The tunnel hadn’t been used in recent memory, but it had been maintained, if only because kits loved to sneak in there to play. It wouldn’t do to have the tunnel cave in and bury unlucky kits.

  “There’s also the fact,” Sanae added, “that this might be my last chance to participate in a real battle. I expect I’ll be busy with children next time there’s an interesting conflict. You’re not allowed to tell me not to come. Besides the ‘if we lose we die’ part, it’s my last selfish wish before I become a dutiful wife.”

  “As always, you fight unfair.” As a person who lived his entire life selfishly, he could hardly oppose her wish. “I’m glad you’re on our side, little cheater.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Yuki

  YUKI SURFACED FROM SLEEP with a dry heave, trying to spit out something that wasn’t there. “Disgusting!”

  “Bad dream?” Sanae’s voice inquired. By now Yuki knew her well enough not to be surprised that she would sneak into a sleeping man’s room. He was far more surprised by his own subconscious.

  “I dreamed I was eating something alive! I can still taste it!” He rubbed his tongue in an effort to get rid of the phantom taste.

  “Oh, um.” Sanae stared at him, then at the squirming frog in her hand. “I thought your pet needed to learn to catch live food. I didn’t want to wake you so I went ahead and gave it one. You don’t think…?”

  “That’s not possible.” He eyed his dragon, who was staring at the remaining frog. “Is it?”

  Sanae wordlessly put the frog down on the floor. The dragon dove forward and snapped it up.

  Yuki propelled himself out the open garden door to throw up over the edge of the veranda. Knowing it was a phantom feeling, that the kicking frog wasn’t in his own mouth, didn’t help one bit. A diffuse contentment seeped into his mind, so out of place it couldn’t belong to him.

  “Out of my head, out,” he said between gritted teeth, willing his mind to close against the alien sensations. It appeared to work or, at the very least, the frog taste and the contentment vanished, and he was left feeling only his own nausea and bile-burned throat. He flopped back on his futon. “Oh, good. I can make it stop.”

  “That’s interesting,” Sanae said. “Should I go get my brother?”

  “Please, no. We’re not telling him about this. He’ll use it as an excuse to tell me I can’t come along. The army leaves today, doesn’t it?”

  “Why do you think I’m looking like this?” Sanae said dryly, spreading her arms. She wore a yellow kosode with a stylized fox head on the breast, black hakama pants, and a male body. Her new swords were at her side, the lacquered scabbards catching the light. “The scouts already left. Aito’s leading them.”

  “Why not Jien? He saw the enemy up close.”

  “Oh, Jien says Aito has familiars. He must have l
eft one behind as a spy. It should be easy for him to find the demon-possessed if they’ve moved.”

  “Ah, is that why he’s always staring at nothing? Is he looking at his spirits?”

  “I wouldn’t know. Spirits don’t bond with foxes.”

  Yuki had never met a man with familiars before, but he’d heard stories aplenty. Such a bond was a strain on a human’s attention, because it was like having extra senses that the human brain wasn’t made to handle. When they met again, perhaps he could ask Aito if his spirit bonds were as strange as his developing dragon bond.

  In early afternoon, rows upon rows of Fox clan samurai and Great Temples sohei marched out of the clan house. The giant doors swung shut after the supply wagons lumbered out, and those left behind watched from the walls in silence.

  Since asking for permission to be included would likely result in a refusal, Yuki didn’t ask. He merely took place in the ranks near Akakiba and Sanae and endeavored to look as if he belonged. Akakiba eyed him sideways but didn’t argue.

  When they marched through the city, the streets were deserted but for stray dogs barking wildly. Skittish residents watched from windows or doorways.

  “Didn’t anyone tell them what’s happening?” Yuki said. “They’ll worry war is coming.”

  “That’s what happens in a clan where secrecy is as much rule as habit,” Akakiba said. “They won’t even tell you where the outhouse is unless they must.”

  Now and then, they caught sight of people who hadn’t sought cover. Most were samurai who looked on with expressions of puzzlement or interest but a few weren’t. One woman in particular waved as they passed.

  Yuki waved back. “Look, there’s Sakura and Hiroshi.”

  She was still waving the last time he looked, a tiny figure standing at the edge of the city.

  The army moved swiftly. The well-guarded supply wagons fell behind during the day but caught up at night. Seven days passed as they marched onward at a pace Yuki found difficult to sustain, legs and lungs burning with effort. He’d thought himself fit, as he was used to walking all day long, but the monks put him to shame.

  “Are you well?” Sanae inquired once. “You’re out of breath.”

  “Some of us aren’t half human and half mythical being of surpassing power,” he muttered in answer, nursing his wounded pride.

  “Oh. I thought it might be the other thing.”

  “I’ve got it under control.” He hadn’t thrown up again, at least.

  Travelers and villagers who crossed their path inevitably dove for cover off the road. It might have helped if they’d displayed banners to identify themselves. Nobody seemed to have given thought to the fright they would give the general population by marching off like this. Foxes really were overly secretive.

  They slowed down on the last day. A pair of monks, certainly scouts, came out of the woods and met with the front of the column where the leaders rode. The army didn’t stop, walking past the village where the demon-possessed had previously been. The scouts led them onward.

  Not long thereafter, Yuki sighted the old mother dragon’s corpse on the riverbank, her good eye gouged out and one of her front paws hacked off. The rare parts of her that hadn’t yet been eaten by scavengers were a mess of open wounds. The remains of a dozen human bodies scattered about her were testament to why one should not anger a great dragon, not even an old one.

  The baby dragon’s quizzical concern was a caressing touch upon his mind. Plainly the little critter couldn’t truly read his mind—or not yet. If he hadn’t been busy worrying about dying in the upcoming battle, the recent developments in their bond would have bothered Yuki a great deal more.

  “I’m fine,” he murmured, fingers caressing soft scales. The creature settled back around his neck, tightening possessively. “Hey, hey, let me breathe.”

  The rest of the scouts were waiting near a village that was deserted but for a few scavenging birds that fled at the army’s approach. The birds had been feeding on what remained of the villagers. Angry murmurs rose in the ranks at the sight of the small, twisted bodies lying in piles.

  “They killed the children,” Akahana said as she joined them. She, like the other women, traveled as a man. Due to her weak ankle, she’d made the journey on a horse.

  “The elders too. They were unfit for their purposes,” Akakiba said. “The rest they must have taken to use as bodies.”

  Sanae was staring at the piled remains, looking ill, and Akahana touched her shoulder.

  “How many villages?” Yuki wondered aloud. To think he’d felt sorry for the demons!

  “No other village fell,” a new voice said.

  Sanae turned to the approaching fox. “Father. Do you know what the scouts said?”

  “They report the massacre was fresh when they arrived. They were able to frighten the demons into preparing for battle rather than trying to seize more bodies elsewhere. The good news is that they have not harmed any more humans; the bad news is that they have been preparing their defenses for days now. They took this village’s entire rice supply, so starving them is no longer an option.” Kiba looked toward a nearby hill, presumably where the enemy was located. “How they learned to prepare for battle is beyond us.”

  “Wait,” Akakiba said, “I recall them saying they could learn from their host’s knowledge. Peasants might not have practical knowledge of war, but they’d understand the theory.”

  They set up camp around the village. “Setting up camp” was loosely defined as the act of claiming a dry patch of ground to sleep on and going about one’s assigned task. Some handled the villagers’ remains, some made and distributed food, and some set a perimeter to guard during the night. If the enemy knew about battle preparations, they might also know about surprise attacks.

  The evening meal was freshly made rice—tastier than the day-old rice balls that served as midday meal—and dried fruit. Dried meat was available for the foxes. The dragon was less than enthusiastic about this new diet and preferred to slither off to find suitable prey. Yuki shivered in second-hand delight as the dragon slid into the rice field’s cool water and cavorted about.

  As the sole person in the camp with no assigned duty, Yuki endeavored to make himself useful by tagging along with Sanae for food distribution. Afterwards, they sat together in silent contemplation, waiting for Akakiba to finish assisting with burying the dead villagers. A burial wasn’t as proper as a pyre, but it was better than leaving the bodies unattended.

  Night had fallen, and the stars were bright in the clear sky. Part of him was watching the stars and part of him was enjoying a fat mouse, gulping it down in gory chucks.

  Yuki pulled back from the dragon’s mind, nauseated by the ghostly feeling of bloody meat in his throat. In this heightened state, he felt Sanae’s inhuman power like a pulse against his skin, like wavelets against the shore. The aura hugging her body was red, while Akakiba’s was yellow. Why the different colors, Yuki couldn’t tell. The human aura didn’t seem to have a color, or perhaps he had yet to become sufficiently sensitive to detect it. Considering it had taken perhaps ten days for him to go from nothing to “I can see, smell, and taste what my dragon’s eating a mile away,” it was logical to expect further developments in his abilities.

  “Still no rain,” he said to break the silence. “We’re lucky.”

  Sanae made a vague noise.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “I wonder what will happen if we can’t stop them.”

  Her voice was female, proof that she had relaxed back into her natural gender under the cover of darkness. He knew it was a breach of protocol, for he’d heard Akahana scold her about it two days prior, but he wasn’t about to tell on her.

  “It’s not like you to be pessimistic,” he said.

  “I know we can’t prevent every single one of them from escaping. As long as one of them is free, they can start over. There were dozens of children in that pile…”

  “They need large numbers to do tha
t to a village. If we prevent them from working in groups, they can’t do it again.” He searched for words to raise her mood. “Demons are fading, aren’t they? Soon they’ll be gone and the children safe.”

  “You know what we are. When demons are gone, we’ll be gone too. We pretend it’s not so bad, that we can survive, but it’s getting worse, and we’re fewer and fewer.”

  He had no soothing words to offer in answer. What if Akakiba got trapped as a fox like his father? Since the ongoing dwindling of magic also weakened dragons, how would his be affected? Their bond might dissolve, whether they wanted it to or not.

  Sanae hurled a rock into the darkness. “It’s not fair.”

  Yuki watched the stars, which would remain in the sky long after Sanae’s kind had gone. What would become of humanity after both its allies and enemies vanished like mist? His dark brooding was interrupted by a certain little reptile nibbling on carrion. The sudden taste of rot in his mouth made him gag. “I told you no old food! No!”

  Sanae patted his arm. “He’s doing it again, huh? Did you ask the monks about it? A lot of them have dragons too.”

  Yuki applied himself to separating his mind from his dragon’s. He didn’t want to know what the dead thing was and especially didn’t want to smell or taste it. “I tried,” he said bitterly, “but they looked at me like I’m crazy.”

  “Ah. Great dragons must be different.” She patted his arm again. “Are we still not telling my brother about it?”

  “I’ll tell him after the battle.”

  If we’re both still alive.

  By the time Akakiba arrived, Sanae had fallen asleep under her blanket. There wasn’t enough light for Yuki to see Akakiba’s face, but he could guess that conversation wasn’t welcome. Whatever could they have spoken about, anyway? How it felt to bury dead children? Nobody should ever have to do that.

  They sat together watching the stars and listening to Sanae’s regular breathing. They’d settled a little bit apart from everybody else, far enough to have privacy under the cover of darkness but not so far that they were outside the safety perimeter. There was no one close enough to notice his hand rise and reach for Akakiba’s ponytail.