“How do you know…?” Percy glanced at her.
“Child, immortals like to know everything, particularly about one another. It’s how we stay immortal. Speaking of, tell Alessandro’s grandson there to let go of the dragon, before the moon strikes.”
Percy yelled to the dropsy. “Rodrigo, old chap! Welcome to Japan.”
Rodrigo looked over to the temple, squinting. “Buonasera, Percy!”
Percy cleared his throat. “Would you be so kind as to let the dragon chappie go?”
“Sì?”
“Yes please.”
“Sì.”
Rodrigo withdrew his hand.
So that’s a dragon.
As weird as Percy found a human-sized fox, he found a massive serpent even weirder. Of course, control over density went both ways, but Percy didn’t realize how far that control might stretch.
The dragon was huge, easily the size of the temple train itself.
Obviously, a serpent of such proportions didn’t fit inside a dropsy basket. Instead he rather draped over it, so whoever was inside with him was now crouched under his belly.
Percy turned to Lady Manami. “Would you please ask the temple guards to lash down our dropsy? See the dangling ropes?”
Lady Manami did as asked, issuing a set of requests in Japanese to the guards. The guards, despite the dragon oozing out of the basket and the fox now hidden beneath him, did as requested, each one tying The Porcini down – one to a tree, the other to a large boulder. The military gentlemen sort of stood around, stunned.
Percy sympathized.
The dragon coiled and slithered himself to flop to the garden below. His movements were not exactly graceful, like an eel on land. A really, really big, scaled eel. His body was all iridescent blues and whites and purples, gleaming in the lantern light. He had feathery fins all along, like a lionfish.
He certainly was beautiful. If one was inclined to find serpents beautiful, which Percy was. He’d wager the dragon was a marvellous swimmer.
The dragon paused outside the basket and looked back at it. Lady Sakura’s face popped up over the edge. The dragon’s massive head tilted back to her, and they touched noses, a sweetly affectionate gesture.
Then the dragon slithered around the temple and across the tracks, disappearing into the steaming lake beyond with the softest of splashes.
He was gone.
“Omnia iam fient quae posse negabam,” said Percy. Only Latin could possibly apply at a time like this.
Lady Manami glanced up at him. “A language I have not heard in hundreds of years, and I never learned to speak it. The Romans, after all, were a vampire concern. They did not like shape changers.”
Arsenic translated for Percy. “Everything I used to say could na happen, will happen now. An old proverb.”
Lady Manami laughed. She was much more animated than her Japanese compatriots. “Saying something cannot happen practically guarantees that it will. Terribly short-sighted of mortals to believe that the shifters they know are the only shifters there are.”
Percy nodded. “So we learned when we began our travels. But a dragon seems that much more improbable. What’s next? Griffons? Unicorns?”
“Do not be silly. Mermaids, however.” Lady Manami slid sly eyes over to Percy.
Percy suspected he was being teased.
“Look!” Arsenic pointed.
The serpent figure of Lord Ryuunosuke was visible slithering through the pipes draped over the mountain peak.
“What’s he doing?” Percy had assumed the lake itself was the dragon’s home. Like a vampire queen safely back in her hive house, why leave again so quickly?
“He has things to fix before moonrise. He will not go far. Lady Sakura is here. He will not leave his mate.”
Percy frowned. “It seems an odd pairing.”
Lady Manami shook her head at him. “The heart is an unfettered thing when spirits are involved. Had you not noticed, we love where we will? We have learned that love happens so rarely, we should value it beyond all things when it lands upon us. It is the only thing that keeps us young and sane.”
Percy thought about Lord Akeldama and his drones, not to mention his adoration for Rue as his adopted daughter and his loyalty to Lady Maccon. He thought of Tasherit and her delight in his sister and her ready affection for the Spotted Custard crew. How strange that the knowledge of immortality was bundled up not in intellectual pursuits but in emotional acumen.
“Is that wisdom?” he asked, because Lady Manami was old and must perforce have something to teach him.
“It is the only wisdom worth knowing.”
“Oh.” Percy looked down at Arsenic, who was still leaning against him, her eyes wide and full of wonder.
He followed her gaze and watched a dragon negotiate plumbing.
The world was indeed a wondrous place.
The dropsy strained against its cords.
Percy’s friend, his actual long-time true friend, Rue, was in there, shaped like a massive fox. She’d put herself and her child at risk, to see a kitsune safely home. To see a dragon reunited with his hot spring. Because they loved each other. Because Rue was like that. Because Rue, for all her enthusiasm and all her silly antics, had learned such wisdom as to trust in love.
Lady Manami patted his arm. “I know, it’s confusing. You’ll figure it out eventually. You’re young.”
The dragon vanished behind the peak, following the piping.
Percy squeezed Arsenic slightly to get her attention, and because she felt good resting against him. “What should we do for Rue? Safer to let her stay a big fox, now that she’s already done it, or better to get her back to human form?”
Arsenic frowned. “Human. I’m concerned about her internal anatomy as a fox and how it will affect the baby, better to limit exposure.”
Percy nodded and yelled over to Rodrigo. “Rodrigo, would you mind touching Rue for us?”
Rodrigo did as requested.
Rue returned to human form.
Lady Sakura popped back up next to them, she seemed pleased with the outcome, although it was difficult to tell for certain on her perfect impassive face.
Percy could only see the three of their heads inside The Porcini but he suspected there were others, otherwise the weight would be off.
From the shadows next to the temple, the Wallflower spoke in that pointed way of hers. “About twenty minutes until moonrise. In case that was something to think about, Lady Manami.”
SIXTEEN
Reunions, Crisis, and Crumpet Requirements
Released from metanatural tether, Lady Sakura transformed into a red fox. Normal-sized, mind you. With the moon still not quite up, Percy assumed this was a voluntary choice. It certainly made her nimble, or perhaps that was simply freedom from all those robes and elaborate baubles.
She leapt easily over the edge of the dropsy and landed to stand directly in front of it. Her big ears were perked and she had one paw up, poised, her bright dark eyes intent on the incoming military.
She looked to be slightly bigger than any other red fox of Percy’s acquaintance. Certainly nowhere near as big as Rue had been in fox form. Although her tail was impressively puffy. Percy always admired foxes’ tails.
“Isna she cute?” said Arsenic.
Percy was pretty certain that wasn’t a very respectful description of an immortal trickster spirit creature.
Lady Manami seemed to agree. “Kitsune are not cute!”
“Bonnie,” Arsenic offered, making things worse.
Percy was amused to note that for once he wasn’t the one making the social gaffe by voicing indiscriminate thoughts.
There were now only two, apparently, normal humans left inside the dropsy. Foreign humans at that. The military seemed to think it was now safe to attack and made for The Porcini.
The temple guards weren’t foolish. They were dedicated to the goddess of mercy and had no reason to protect random foreigners in baskets who had not officially be
en granted sanctuary. They left the wasps to it, returning to take up a defensive position at the temple doors. Percy gave them a polite nod of thanks anyway.
Rodrigo was not shy in a fight, even under overwhelming odds. He jumped to the ground brandishing two long double-sided knives as if he’d been born holding them. (Which he might well have been, knowing Templar training.)
Rue stayed behind him in the basket, looking pale and forlorn and most unlike herself.
Rodrigo took up a defensive stance, as if he might fight off the whole military troop himself. But even Rodrigo wasn’t that good a fighter.
Percy sighed and looked around for a weapon. He loathed fisticuffs, but those were his friends and if fighting was the only option… A gun would be best. Guns, of course, were a coward’s choice but he was a remarkably good shot. And a bit of a coward.
But someone else came to Rodrigo’s aid before he could.
A red fox.
Percy wasn’t certain why, or even how much human capacity Sakura kept in her fox form. Werewolves ranged quite a bit, depending on rank, mental stability, and age. But despite what Lady Manami had said about fox instincts, Sakura seemed to have decided it was her duty to defend Rue, Rodrigo, and the dropsy from wasp attackers.
Except that she was only one small fox.
Until she wasn’t.
It was impossible to know where they came from, or if they’d been there all along, because foxes were nothing if not stealthy, but suddenly red foxes were materializing all around them. They ran out from behind bushes and boulders and trees.
They came in a small river, over a dozen of them.
Lady Manami said, by way of explanation, “Lady Sakura’s obi. They have been waiting a long time for their vixen to return to them.”
Percy remembered that Lady Manami had said she would send word calling for the rest of the kitsune. Apparently, it worked.
He wondered how much they functioned like a werewolf pack. “Will they lend her strength?”
“Lady Sakura has six tails. How else could she have held an entire city in place for so long? They are her strength. Watch.”
So they stood in the temple doorway and watched as the foxes (small though they may be) moved like a weapon of umber fire through the soldiers. They darted in and about, tripping the men up, nipping at their ankles. The kitsune drove the men back, as if they were sheep being herded by very small collies.
It was nothing like a werewolf battle. There was little bloodshed. No one was torn asunder, no throats were ripped out, no limbs were lost. Yet, somehow, the foxes prevailed. They drove the soldiers back through sheer aggravation, teasing as they fought, dividing them apart from one another, nudging and tripping. Three of the kitsune forced the military leader to stumble into the lake. The rest applied such persistent needling pressure, most of the soldiers ended up fleeing in sheer surprise.
Eventually, the few soldiers left were panting, bruised, and confounded, weaving about in circles.
Lost to all sense, these men simply turned away from the dropsy towards the temple and stopped fighting, as if whatever was happening was beyond their ken.
Dreamlike, they bowed deeply to the temple, and as if wanderers in a fairy tale, they set out away from the lake, abandoning all duty there.
Lady Manami said, “Each will walk home, however far away that home may be, and tell a story to his family of this night, when the kitsune defended a floating mushroom. The legends will live large. Each man will be thought spirit-touched, or crazy, or prophetic – and the kitsune reputation will continue eternal.” She looked smug.
Percy decided he liked her.
Percy wasn’t surprised to learn that kitsune strength was in their ability to befuddle. He was never one to believe power resided in brute strength, physical prowess, or technological superiority. Often it was more effective to mystify people. He should know, he did it all the time. All he need do was open his mouth.
Feeling lucky to have witnessed such a thing, Percy wondered if he might publish a paper on the subject of kitsune magic, or if that would come off as too outlandish for academia. Best to call it something other than magic.
Left safe and alone with their dropsy, Rue and Rodrigo exchanged glances.
Arsenic said, “Rue looks unwell. I should go to her.”
Lady Manami agreed. “Go.”
Arsenic sprinted across the platform.
Rodrigo leapt back inside The Porcini in time to catch Rue as she folded backwards and out of sight. He then reappeared to offer Arsenic a hand up. She grabbed it and he hoisted. Arsenic almost walked up the side and over.
Percy trundled after. He wasn’t sure he’d be much help, except he did speak Japanese and he could request medication of the temple, since Arsenic didn’t have her kit.
Percy was tall enough, and The Porcini strapped down to the ground tight enough, for him to peek over the side and see inside.
There lay what he assumed were prisoners, trussed up and strewn about.
Something rather drastic must have happened aboard the Custard, for they’d dropped off a half dozen or so Japanese guards along with the fox and the dragon.
“That’s a lot of prisoners,” he said to Rodrigo, while Arsenic checked over Rue.
Rue was whiter than normal, and sweating a bit, but awake and grumpy and batting Arsenic off. Arsenic, of course, was having none of it.
The Italian answered him in Italian. “It was good fun. The battle up there.” A pause and then he added, “We won.”
“So I deduced.” Percy supposed that was sufficient information to be going on with.
Rodrigo ambled over to lean against the side of the dropsy near Percy’s chin. Together they watched the ladies and felt ineffectual.
Percy said, “Can I do anything to help? Should I fetch something useful? Root vegetables? Hot water? We seem to have a great deal of both.”
Arsenic looked over. “I’m thinking she merely pushed herself a bit much.” She turned back to Rue. “No contractions? Ache in the lower back? Nausea? Dizziness?”
“No. I told you, my knees gave out. Sudden upset after returning to human form. Not to mention being nearly smothered by a bloody dragon! It’s not like that happens every day.”
Percy sniffed. “Certainly seems like.”
A small throat was cleared near the vicinity of Percy’s chest. He looked down to find Lady Manami had left the shelter of the temple and joined them.
She’d paused to put on yet another colourful robe and some of those high sandals and was looking up at him expectantly. Or perhaps not at him but at Rodrigo, who turned to stare down at her with equal interest.
Lady Manami blinked slowly, bright eyes curious on the preternatural’s face. Finally she said, “You look like your grandfather.”
“You knew him?”
“Percy here is wearing his clothes.”
“Of course he is,” said Rodrigo.
Rue said, attempting to sit up while Arsenic clucked in disproval, “That sounds like Grandfather. From what I can gather, he travelled around shedding his clothing all too often. I’m surprised there aren’t more by-blow cousins turning up. Or maybe not. It’s supposed to be difficult for preternaturals to breed.”
Percy looked between Rodrigo and Rue. “There are more of you?”
“No,” said Rodrigo.
“Not that we know of,” added Rue, with a cheeky grin.
Percy shrugged. “You could ask Formerly Floote.”
They both looked at him.
“Don’t stare at me like I’m cracked. It’s obvious he keeps track of stray Tarabottis. Isn’t that why he’s done everything? Honestly, you two. Isn’t that why everyone has done everything all along? You name it, from God-Breaker Plague to my outfit, from sea to desert to island nation.”
“Percy, stop waffling.” Rue was out of patience with him, as usual.
Percy shrugged. No skin off his teeth. Not like he could get a valid paper out of that theory even if it was evident to
him that there were connections (all kinds of connections, all over the planet), and most of them could be laid squarely on two sets of shoulders, Alessandro Tarabotti and Lord Akeldama. But if no one else wanted to play the game, he’d write notes and ask Aunt Softy about it later. Or maybe the Wallflower.
Speaking of, where’d she gone?
Rodrigo glared at Percy. “Why are you wearing Grandfather’s clothes?”
Arsenic stood up. “Honestly, you lot. ’Tis a wonder you’ve survived so long. Shouldna we be getting back to the ship? Rather than havering on about fashion?”
“My father would say there can never be anything more important than that.” Rue was obviously referring to her vampire father, not her werewolf one.
Percy levered himself into the dropsy. It took a bit of doing, he wasn’t graceful about it like Arsenic or Rodrigo. He got a little caught up on the side, with his still bare feet and his injured ankle. His breeches didn’t rip or even threaten to. Clearly buckskin was more practical than he gave credit. Maybe I ought to don leather trousers more often.
He squinted his eyes into the shadows around them, finally spotting a subtle blob. “You coming, Agatha?”
The blob materialized into the dumpy form of an elderly aunt-type female who one expected to find leading the trifle committee at the local ladies’ aid society, not tromping the wilds of Japanese lakes.
Rodrigo issued a surprised snort.
“Rue, stay sitting, for pity’s sake. ’Tis only the Wallflower we were meant to find.” Arsenic kept her charge in check through dint of explanation.
Rue relaxed back. “Oh yes, I forgot.”
Percy said, “That would seem to be the point, with Agatha.”
He and Rodrigo bent to offer the Wallflower assistance climbing into the dropsy.
Agatha rolled her eyes at them and through some improbable feat of athleticism, jumped and twisted herself over the edge of the basket, skirts and all, to land perfectly inside.
Percy was very impressed.
She and Rodrigo, quickly in non-verbal accordance, began hoisting the prisoners overboard.
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