by Phil Gabriel
“As I said earlier,” I said, “I have a talent for asking the right people for help.”
“So, we must follow you to find the treasure?” asked John. “What are we to do, each grab one of your tails as you lead the way?”
Kitty-Sue looked shocked. “Lord John! A lady doesn’t just let anyone grab her tail,” she said.
“My apologies, Lady Fox,” said John, who had spent the last several hours carrying the sleeping kitsune and stroking her tail. “What do you suggest?”
“Pull out that magic rope of yours,” she said, “and I’ll drag your misdirected asses around until we find the treasure.”
Looking down at her naked body, she pursed her lips in thought, then said, “Anyway, in a couple of minutes, I won’t have any tails to tug.”
While John pulled his rope out of his pocket, Kitty-Sue transformed into the heavyweight Pam. Her hair shortened, then turned blond. I noticed she had made Pam a natural blond, top and bottom. Her tails shrank to nothing as her breasts increased dramatically in size. Her bare feet sank into the dirt as her weight increased significantly.
She intertwined her fingers and stretched her arms out in front, twisted her neck, then smacked one fist into the opposite palm. This sent interesting ripples through her new body.
“Hey!” she said in Pam’s voice. “No ogling. Can’t a lady get changed in peace?” Then she ruined her display of ire by giggling. She turned away in false modesty, and I saw that she still had cute dimples on her butt, but they were now much farther apart.
She spun back as her clothes popped into place: the white blouse with a dolphin pin brooch, the dark blue skirt that ended just above the knees, the pearl necklace, and the sensible low-heeled shoes that completed the outfit.
“Now that I’m incognito,” she said, “let’s get this show on the road.” Reaching out, she took the globe from my hand and the rope from John. She wrapped the thong holding the sphere around the fingers of her left hand, leaving it dangling, and wrapped John’s rope around her right hand.
I looked at John, who shook his head, then gestured that I should grab the rope and follow behind Kitty-Sue. He would take up the rear.
After a few steps, both John and I tugged on the rope. “Kitty-Sue!” I said, “you’re walking us towards the cliff.”
“No, I’m not,” she said. “I’m walking us straight towards the location.”
“Lady Pam,” said John, remembering to use her pseudonym, “it does appear that we are headed to the cliff.”
She stopped and turned to look at us. “Who’re you going to trust,” she said, “me or your lying eyes?”
At the look on our faces, she temporized. “OK, if I’m wrong, I’ll go over first, and you can haul me back. Doesn’t that seem fair?” She turned back to the front.
I looked for a moment at her wider than average butt, estimating her heft. Then I shrugged. John was with me, and he had been able to hoist me easily by that rope. Together, we could surely lift Kitty-Sue in this form.
“More than fair, Lady Pam,” said John. I noted he tightened his grip on the rope.
We followed the striding Pam, her sensible shoes making no noise on the ground, and headed towards the cliff. At the last second, when it seemed she would march off the cliff, the air around us made a kaleidoscope spin that left me dizzy, the air in front of us shimmered, and a large clearing with a huge house in the center appeared. At our backs was an impenetrable wall of jungle growth.
Entering this area was something like walking through one of Kitty-Sue’s kitsune privacy bubbles.
Kitty-Sue stopped, and a look of concentration came over her face. A kitsune privacy bubble popped into place, surrounding us. As long as it was in place, most humans would not notice us.
Now inside the warded area, I could see that the globe Kitty-Sue held was pulling in the direction of the house. Not just a house, more of a multitiered mansion. It was centered in the large clearing, about three hundred meters away from us.
Like all local houses, it was raised off the ground, resting on a series of cement pillars. The roof had a steep slope and extended far beyond the walls of the house to direct rainwater away from the foundation, as well as provide shade. The gables extended up to a sharp point, the wood extending past the top to make a V shape above the peak. I remembered that the V shapes were some kind of ward.
There was a large swimming pool between us and the house, and I had a subconscious urge to avoid getting near the water.
Fifty feet in front of us was a chest-high cement pillar holding up a platform. On this platform stood a miniature version of the large house.
“Why do they put these dollhouses out front?” muttered Kitty-Sue.
“It’s a phi-baan,” John and I said at the same time. John nodded to me to continue. “A spirit house. When an area is cleared to construct a house, Thais believe the spirit of the land is dispossessed. To avoid bad luck, Thais build a new home for the spirit.
“The spirits also act as guardians of the people in the house. Like a magical fire alarm. We’ll have to avoid alarming the spirit.”
Kitty-Sue scrunched her face in thought. “My pheromones don’t work on spirits,” she said, “but I can probably sneak past with no problem.”
“As could I,” said John. Then he nodded at me. “However, some of us are not so stealthy.”
“I’m not stealthy,” I said as I reached into my satchel and brought out two objects. “But I’m sneaky.”
I handed the eight-ounce tumbler I had produced to Kitty-Sue, then checked the bottle of Johnnie Walker Black I had pulled from my bag of tricks. I read the label to ensure it was a mundane bottle, not the magic liquor gifted to me by the ascended spirit of Elvis. I was saving that for a special occasion. Another damn prophecy I might or might not live to experience.
Satisfied that it was a non-magical brew, I cracked the top and motioned for Kitty-Sue to hold out the glass for filling.
“Boss,” said Kitty-Sue in a reproving voice, “I know you like to drink, but we’re in enemy territory and up against a deadline. Do you think this is the best time to start a bender?”
“Quiet,” I said. “This isn’t for me. It’s for the spirits in the phi-baan. They love to drink. A few snorts and they’ll never know we’re here.”
Somewhat mollified, Kitty-Sue held the tumbler out. I poured, filling the glass almost to the brim.
“Now be a good little sneaky girl and set this glass on the platform near the dollhouse,” I said.
With a doubtful look, Kitty-Sue asked, “Are you sure this will work? What if these Tinkerbells are teetotalers?”
“I haven’t seen one yet that could resist good whiskey,” I said. John snorted at that. His opinion of blended whiskeys was well known. “Compared to the cheap Mekhong whiskey they’re used to getting, this will be ambrosia.”
Kitty-Sue nodded. “I have to bow to your extensive experience with drunks.”
She turned away, then said, “You guys should step back near the tree line. Once I leave, the privacy bubble will go with me.”
John and I stepped back near the tree line, careful not to cross the border that would prevent us from finding our way in again.
I sniffed the bottle before recapping it, rejecting the urge to take a drink, then stashed it away. I pulled Princess and her scabbard out and strapped her around my waist. I put her on my right side, ready for a left-handed draw. The faintest thrum from her indicated she was awake and ready for battle. She was smart enough to know this was a time for stealth, not attack.
Kitty-Sue rejoined us in less than a minute, restoring the privacy bubble. We waited patiently to see if the fairies would take the bait.
Nothing happened for several minutes. I was getting antsy because dawn was only a few minutes away. John and Kitty-Sue were smiling for some reason. Then I noticed the level of whiskey in the glass. It was down by about a third. The spirits, faster than hummingbirds, were zipping out and sipping the whiskey faster than
my eyes could see.
Soon, the glass was empty, and the tiny house was silent. We walked closer, and the sound of tiny snores could be heard.
“I think it’s safe now,” said Kitty-Sue. “Let’s get inside before the Tinkerbells wake up with a hangover.” We approached the house, our path curving away to avoid the swimming pool. Strange that we all subconsciously agreed it was better to steer clear of that body of water.
There was a winding stairway that led up to the main floor from the ground. Flanking the stairs were two stone statues, temple guard dogs. They were about four feet high and carved with such detail that you could see the strands of their fur.
As we approached, the heads of the dogs turned with a grinding, rock on rock sound. Their eyes glowed with supernatural energy. Mouths opened, revealing sharp stone teeth.
Kitty-Sue held back, saying, “Boss, they look like dogs, but they don’t breathe. I can’t help with them. And I don’t think they can be bribed with a little whiskey.”
“It’s OK,” I said, “they are pledged to protect the owner from harm or theft. We have no intention of harming the owner.” I said it as much to the dogs as to Kitty-Sue. I reached out and took the crystal globe from her hand. “With this, I can prove we are here to retrieve a lost object. As long as we aren’t stealing, they won’t bother us.”
I held the globe under the stone nose of the nearest dog. Even without breathing, they had senses that could tell I was there to retrieve, not steal. They settled back into place.
“Seems like a pretty glaring security flaw,” said Kitty-Sue. “What’s to keep a thief from loaning the owner a pen, then breaking in to ‘retrieve’ it?”
We headed up the stairs as I responded. “The thief would also have to get out past the dogs.”
I could see Kitty-Sue’s look of concentration as she worked out a way to steal from this place. I’d seen a similar look on Akiko’s face as she worked through a complicated spell.
“You’re welcome to come back after this mission is finished to try your luck,” I said. “But for now, we need to concentrate on the armor.”
“Yes, boss,” she said with a disappointed look. “No multitasking.”
I pushed the double doors open, revealing a long hallway. It was much longer than the size of the house would allow. The floor was composed of white and black marble tiles. There were glyphs that swam into view inside the marble, appearing for the merest second, then fading. The cycle repeated in a seemingly random pattern.
We stepped inside as the first rays of dawn came over the horizon, Kitty-Sue leading the way, with John right behind her. John only stepped on the tiles that Kitty-Sue used. He turned to me to explain, but I just nodded and said, “I know the tiles are rigged. Go ahead.” I was careful to step only where they had stepped.
On each side of the hallway, tiny alcoves held objects of immeasurable beauty and power. Even Ashley’s treasure trove hadn’t compared to this.
The door remained open behind us, but stepping into the hallway was like going through an airlock. The temperature held at a steady sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. From the speed that our clothes were drying, I would say that the humidity was also tightly controlled. Somebody had gone to great trouble to provide a perfect storage environment for these treasures.
Kitty-Sue had run ahead, hopping from one safe tile to the next, looking in each nook as she passed. “Holy shit, boss,” she said, “the stuff here could set you up for life! Hell, several lives.”
Even John, who had seen immense treasures in his adventures, seemed impressed with the variety of objects available.
“Please curb your larcenous impulses, Kitty-Sue,” I said. “We’re here for only one thing.”
She nodded to me and put a serious expression on her face. Until she reached the next alcove.
“Oh. My. God,” she said, stopping and staring at the object. I stopped behind her and examined the item.
It was an ancient parchment, with writing in three distinct languages. I could read none of the three. In fact, looking at the first section hurt my eyes. What did it remind me of? Oh yeah, the shapes of the letters were in the same script found on Princess’ hilt.
The middle third of the parchment was covered in writing that looked remarkably like tiny fox feet had scampered over the page. Each minuscule paw-print was turned at a different angle, looking like a thumb-sized fox had danced across the page with ink-stained feet.
The bottom language was very similar to Japanese kanji characters. But I could not read any of these kanji symbols.
“We’ve been looking for this for centuries,” said Kitty-Sue. “My queen would give me a third tail if I brought it back to her.” She licked her lips, and her hand stretched out slowly.
“Why is it so valuable to her?” I asked.
“It’s like the Rosetta Stone,” she said, halting her hand before it touched the object. “It has the Fae language, the fox language, and ancient Japanese all in one place. It could be used to translate those languages. We don’t like to have that information in public.”
Perhaps she approached too closely to the alcove; perhaps her heightened interest triggered it; perhaps we had stood too long in one place. The entry doors behind us slammed shut with an echoing finality.
“It seems I have guests,” said a voice from the far end of the hall.
“Oh, shit,” I said. “The owner’s home.”
25
Meet the Master
He stepped from the shadows at the distant end of the hallway that hadn’t been there a moment before. A tall thin fae man in that curious enameled ceramic armor that they favored. The markings on his armor denoted a high rank, much higher than the knighthood bestowed on me by the acceptance of Princess.
His face had that unnatural beauty they all possessed and those bluer-than-blue eyes, like a clear summer sky, that were unnerving to look into. He stepped forward with a grace that I could never match. As he moved forward, he had a puzzled look on his face. I felt that tingle that indicated he was trying to warp time. Too bad that particular fae trick didn’t work around me.
Between one step and the next, he glanced at Princess in her scabbard, read the Fae script on her hilt, and recognized her. With the tiniest nod, he indicated he knew who we were. This probably saved our lives; the rank I enjoyed due to Princess indicated it would be impolite to kill my friends and I on sight.
“John, Kitty-Sue,” I said, “our host is here. May I present Prince...?”
“Raggio di Sole, of the Summer Court,” he said helpfully.
It took a second for me to realize he was playing, using Italian to show he knew my history. “Prince Sunbeam? That’s how you wish to be known?” I asked.
He smiled, showing perfect teeth that seemed a little too sharp. “It’s a close translation.”
He stepped closer, showing no fear, and stood before us. His steps were as quiet as John’s when he stalked, despite the encumbrance of his armor.
“However,” he said, “I must ask that…” He spoke a string of fae words that I couldn’t wrap my ears around, but I recognized it as the string of syllables that was Princess’ fae name. “…have a peace bond placed. It is considered very rude to enter the home of a prince with an unbonded weapon. It would be like carrying an AR-15 into the Oval Office.”
Bind my companion, my most trusted, most potent weapon? I opened my mouth to object, but the slight smile on Sunbeam’s face stopped me. He was waiting for a chance to kill us. With John and Kitty-Sue on my side, he would have a hard time; but if we could avoid the fight, it would be better.
I put my hand on Princess’ hilt and said, “Princess, do you wish to submit to this?”
“Hai,” came her response. I processed this for a second. Princess didn’t normally use Japanese. Hai in Japanese is not really a “yes,” it’s more of an “I hear you.” She wasn’t happy, but would submit.
“Of course, Prince Sunbeam,” I said. “Unless attacked, Princess and I pledge fo
r the next hour not to attack you while in your home.” I had made the vow as limited as I could, with a location, target, and time limit.
Prince Sunbeam stepped closer and extended his hand. We gripped, and I felt the Oath coalesce, the Oath that would prevent me from using Princess against him for the next hour.
At this distance, a scent wafted from him: a combination of cured leather, summer pollen, and something else.
“Sploosh,” said Kitty-Sue.
“What?” I said, turning to her.
“Sorry,” she said, “I’m in character. And he smells damned good.”
I opened my mouth to respond, then shut it again. What could I tell this assassin? Ignore the handsome fairy prince because he might be dangerous?
“Prince Sunbeam,” I said, ignoring my urge to mention kitchen appliances, “we came here because it has come to our attention that a certain object that was lost was entrusted to you for safekeeping.”
“And what would this object look like?” he asked. “As you can see, I have many objects, both mundane and mystical, in my home.”
“A suit of samurai armor, engraved with potent magics,” said Kitty-Sue.
“Not ringing any bells,” he said with a smile. Fae don’t speak untruths, but they have a million ways to avoid answering questions.
“The armor we search for is missing the helm,” I said.
“Still, perhaps this armor now sports a different helm,” he offered.
I reached into my satchel and pulled out the helm I had bargained for in Ashley’s cavern. “It would have designs like these,” I said with a smile. No way he could avoid admitting that the armor in his possession was the one we were looking for.
A bitter look flashed across his face, then he said, “Why yes. I do believe I have something similar in storage.”
I handed the helm to John, who could protect it much better than I. “Perhaps we could examine it? To determine if it matches the helm? We are eager to reunite the armor with the true owner.”
His eyes probed me for a moment, seeking to find evidence of a lie in my statement. Since I fully intended on giving the armor back to the samurai, just before I sent his revenge-obsessed ass to hell, I passed the prince’s inspection.