The Fox's Quest (7 page)

At first it had been like when cousins and uncles—and the occasional aunt—went hunting for a season or two. But cousins and uncles came back and Akakiba didn’t. Not for a long time.

A splash interrupted Sanae’s musings. Akakiba had slumped deeper into the steaming bath water, the tension drained from his body. Maybe he was also thinking about the consequences of those family fights…

Akakiba wouldn’t storm off again, Sanae was certain of it. Family could wait for years, but rejected lovers—or would-be lovers—moved on. Akakiba wouldn’t risk that—would he?

What to do, what to do. Considering her brother’s weird attitude about her, she probably wouldn’t be successful at whacking him upside the head with logic until traces of it seeped into his thick skull.

She’d wait, then, and hope the boys could solve their problem on their own. If it didn’t happen, logic-whacking would still be an option. In the meantime, they had creepy swords to find.

Chapter Ten

Mamoru

E
arly in the afternoon, Mamoru noticed the trees were sick. There were black lumps on the trunks and few leaves left on the branches.

“It’s either infestation or an illness. It’s been spreading for a couple years,” one of the fake mercenaries said with a dismissive hand wave. “It’ll sort itself out eventually.”

As they rode, the trees progressed from merely looking sick to being dead and grey.

“Wasn’t so bad last time I passed here,” the fake mercenary said. “It’s true I don’t usually take this way down…”

“This is strange,” another said, his eyes scanning the area back and forth, back and forth. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

They weren’t on a road at the moment. They were painstakingly going down the side of the mountain through wild forest, following a trail so rarely used Mamoru couldn’t tell if they were on it or if they’d lost it.

The usual way down from their clan house was through the south road, a real road and not an invisible trail like this one. Their party had opted to go over the mountain and descend on the north side for two reasons: to save time by not having to go around the mountain at its base, and to avoid allowing anyone to locate their departure point. They wanted to be seen on the road going to Kyoto, but they didn’t want to be tracked back to their home region.

The trees might have been dead and gray but they yet stood upright. Kicking a trunk in passing, Mamoru’s demon found out it was hard as a live one instead of frail and rotten. Where were the bugs whose job it was to break down dead things to feed the ground?

“You don’t suppose demons cursed the land?” one man ventured.

“Don’t be silly,” Usagi scoffed. “Demons can’t cast curses. If they could, humans would have been cursed dead by now.”

Mamoru knew she was right because the demon sharing his brain was as fretful as all the humans put together. Their shared body’s skin wanted to crawl off. He mentally snuggled against the demon’s mind, trying to hide behind it. He had the peculiar feeling monsters might appear out of nowhere to try and devour them.

I thought demons were the worst things in the world,
the demon whined after picking up Mamoru’s disturbing mental image.
What would eat us?

I don’t know.
He valiantly tried to inject reason into the situation.
We’re being silly. Trees do die from sickness sometimes.

Not like this though. This looked and felt wrong, wrong, wrong. There were no bugs! No birds! No nothing!

Easily picking up on these thoughts, too, the demon nudged their horse closer to Usagi’s.

I don’t like this physical fear response,
the demon said.
My heart beats wildly and my head feels light and my throat feels constricted.
It’s unpleasant.

Welcome to fleshy life.

Usagi’s lips were pressed flat against one another, the sole overt sign of unease. Her silence was however revelatory; she too must be listening in vain for those sounds of life one expected to hear in a forest. Perhaps she too thought about monsters and listened for them…

The demon growled, giving Mamoru the mental equivalent of a slap.
Stop that! No more monsters! You’re driving us both crazy!

Mamoru pushed back halfheartedly.
She does look scared. Say something.

Mamoru’s resident demon did so, speaking softly. “Usagi? Are you well?”

“If I’m well? In this graveyard? You have to ask?”

“We could go back, if you want.”

Usagi gave a short, bitter laugh. “Do you know what they tell women
shinobi
? They tell us when a woman shows fear, men can use it as an excuse to retreat from a situation they also fear. But when a woman shows courage, no man wants to look less courageous than her.” Her expression turned fierce. “I won’t be your excuse to retreat like cowards.”

Mamoru understood then why it was the fake mercenaries were watching Usagi almost as much as they were watching these eerie woods. They must be hoping she’d beg them to turn back. As long as the single woman in the party held it together, pride wouldn’t allow them to do any less.

The demon didn’t care why Usagi was putting on a brave face; he admired her courage regardless.

Mamoru mentally threw up his hands.
I don’t know what you see in her.

In answer, the demon melded their minds until it wasn’t possible to tell which thought belonged to whom. In this state, memories of Usagi as the queen of brats or as a merciless bully faded under flames of longing for her soft lips, under boundless admiration for her strong character, under the erotic desires she aroused with the slightest gaze.

This is not me!
Mamoru threw himself back, afraid to be lost forever in this melding.
You have it bad, bad, bad!

He caught sight of Usagi’s face, of her upturned nose and creamy skin, and shuddered with leftover passion. Mere men couldn’t love that strongly; they’d go insane.

The rest of the afternoon passed easier, for he merely had to gaze at Usagi to lift his mood. It helped.

Daylight had barely begun to fade when Usagi drew her mount to a halt. “We’ll camp here,” she said firmly, making eye contact with every man in turn. “It’s the flattest spot we’re likely to find in a while.”

The men cast anxious looks about. They were still in the dead area, for their progress had been torturously slow on the way down. The abundant vegetation on the ground—dead, shriveled vegetation—made it difficult to spot any hole in which a horse might break a leg.

Uneasy looks went round, but no word of protest rose, and they did as Usagi said.

They might normally have forgone building a fire since the autumn weather was tolerable, but nobody even suggested it. The fire they built was large, to cast as much light as possible.

When night fell, they huddled around the fire and listened to its crackles, trying to forget their dead and silent surroundings. The demon didn’t even complain about the plain travel rations. It was good they hadn’t brought alcohol because there was no doubt they would have tried to drink their way back into self-confidence and courage.

There should have been biting bugs harassing them, there should have been scurrying noises as the night life went about its business, there should have been scents of life and decay. It was the absence of these things that was so deeply disturbing to human minds. To the demon’s, too. Perhaps even the horses’, for they also huddled together where they were picketed.

The distant, dim howl of a wolf caused shoulders to relax. The sound reminded them life remained elsewhere and they hadn’t accidentally stumbled in the land of the dead to be preyed upon by unknown entities.

Your thoughts aren’t helping
, the demon said.

Sorry. The darkness stimulates my imagination.

I wish I didn’t know what imagination is. It’s not helping either.

Ask Usagi to sing.

“You’d like me to sing?” Usagi said when asked. “Very well. Gather round.” She seemed grateful to be given something to do, glad for a distraction.

Her voice was pure and gentle when she wished it to be. It was so now, as it sang of loves lost and found, of happy-ever-afters and cruel partings. It was a wise choice, as love was a subject unlikely to reinforce irrational fears.

Her voice lulled them to sleep. Mamoru had the vague impression they’d forgotten something, but it probably wasn’t important…

They woke to cries of “fire, fire!”

A dead forest was a dry forest and dry wood burned hard and fast.

The flames devouring the nearby trees proved the point.

A voice barked, “On the horses, now!”

The panicked animals were difficult to control and required the men to work together to get Usagi and her flowing garments on top of hers.

“Follow me!” Usagi screamed. She pointed her horse away from the flames and gave it its head.

Six mounted horses and two packhorses thundered away, riders and beasts desperate to outrun the raging fire. Smoke stung their eyes, burned their lungs. The heat at their back and sides urged them to keep going, faster, faster.

Mamoru caught sight of Usagi now and then, saw how she had a sleeve-covered hand pressed over her mouth and nose, the other tangled in the reins. Her eyes were closed.

What do we do?
the demon inquired, the mind tone calm but their shared body covered in sweat.

My training never covered fleeing from fires started by my own travel party! Try not to breathe smoke; it hurts the lungs. If we find a river, get soaked. Otherwise, run!

The fire crackled, laughing at their flight. The horses whinnied wildly, eyes rolled back and mouths frothing.

Usagi’s horse tripped on an unseen obstacle and collapsed screaming. The demon yanked on the reins and their mount reared and danced in mindless panic, threatening to throw them off. And perhaps trample them, too, for good measure.

Mamoru blended in, pushing his advice to the forefront. For a moment, they were one again.

Removing a layer of clothing, he wrapped it about the horse’s head. Robbed of its sight, the animal calmed sufficiently for him to swing down, wrap the reins around his hand, and tow the horse back to Usagi’s location. The other men were long gone; they either hadn’t been able to stop their terrified beasts or hadn’t wanted to.

“Help me,” Usagi said above the crackle of fire, her tone failing to conceal her fright. “My leg is trapped.”

The horse had fallen on Usagi’s right leg and lay there in agony, its front leg so badly broken bone protruded. Together, they shoved at the animal’s mass with the strength and energy of desperation. It wasn’t going to be enough, it wasn’t— Strength beyond what Mamoru’s muscles could logically provide flooded him and Usagi’s leg began to slide free.

An ominous crack made them look up. Large and imposing even in death, the tree began to fall.

Mamoru rose, catching the trunk on his shoulder and heaving it aside with every shred of strength he could muster—at that very moment he seemed to have more strength in his muscles than he’d ever had before. His skin screamed with pain where it had come in contact with the burning wood, his shoulder throbbed in agony from the violent impact and his clothes were on fire.

The trunk crashed on the horse’s head and neck, ending its misery, but missed Usagi, who seconds later had her leg free.

“You idiot!” she screamed between coughs, slapping at his burning clothes with her bare hands. “On the horse, now!”

After untying his horse, he mounted behind Usagi and let her take the reins. She urged the horse away, away from the flames and smoke and awaiting death.

He shied away from pain that seemed to rise and rise toward intolerable heights, consciousness flicking out—

—and back on. He was on his back, unmoving. Pain hindered thought processes and cast a veil on the outside world. It radiated from his shoulder, screaming so loudly it drowned most anything else his senses tried to tell him.

One thing got through, a gentle and concerned voice as soothing as a balm. “Mamoru, can you understand me? You’re hurt. We’re sending you back for care.”

Usagi? Confused thoughts arose and floated away before he could consider them fully. He remembered disliking her arrogance, her bullying. He remembered loving the shape of her lips and the color of her skin. He remembering growing up alongside her, fighting and bickering as siblings do. He remembered meeting her for the first time and falling prey to those deep dark eyes. Remembered being human. Remembered being other.

Something wasn’t right. Something…

A liquid was forced between his lips, a tasteless coolness. “Listen. I’m sorry, but I have to go to Kyoto. Please come when you’re better.”

Usagi’s voice, familiar and reassuring. He clung to it.

Yes. I’ll come.

Chapter Eleven

Yuki

Y
uki was glad to leave the temple. He’d
heard
those whispers.

“Hey look, that’s the one, the Mad Fox.”

“Why is he even allowed here?”

“I heard—”

It was completely unfair to call Akakiba “Mad Fox” because of one terrible incident. As if humans never went insane on the battlefield! Or off it, for that matter.

“Glad to see them leave,” one of the two guards at the gate muttered to his partner. “Especially
that
one.”

It was spoken low, but not so low Drac’s sensitive hearing couldn’t pick it up. Drac’s anger flared bright and hot at the insult, spilling all over their mind bond.

How dare they!

Yuki turned his horse around sharply. “Shut your mouth if you value your tongue,” he snarled at the speaker, a middle-aged man with a nose crooked from multiple breakings.

Drac spat sizzling acid on the ground, tail whipping. The guard’s dragon hissed in answer, raising its back like an angry cat.

Drac gathered himself on the saddle as if to jump down. Following his friend’s train of thoughts with growing alarm, Yuki said, “Don’t eat the little one; it’s not his fault. He doesn’t understand.”

This didn’t stop Drac from snapping at the smaller dragon until its white-faced human dove to retrieve it and backpedaled while mumbling incomprehensibly.

The other guard, an older man thin as bamboo, never lost his relaxed body language. He did, however, put a hand on his rude partner’s head to force him down into a bow. “My colleague apologizes for his thoughtless comment. The Great Temples have nothing but respect for their allies of the Fox clan.” There was a questioning edge to the statement, likely because the man couldn’t ascertain what Yuki’s relationship to the clan was.

Rather than try to answer the unspoken question, Yuki inclined his head in acknowledgement and, turning his horse around again, went to catch up with the others.

He wished he could feel satisfied but he mostly felt like a bully for using his bonded dragon to terrify someone into silence. The worst part was, what he’d done wouldn’t have changed the rude guard’s mind in the least. Maybe the next rumors would concern the “Mad Fox” and his crazy friend.

The others had halted not far ahead. They’d seen, and likely heard, the scene.

Under their gazes, Yuki colored. “He had no right to speak like that.”

“I don’t recall you being so confrontational,” Jien said.

“I don’t recall asking your opinion.”

Jien looked taken aback. Feeling like an idiot on top of a bully, Yuki ducked his head and urged his horse onward. If he were in the lead, he didn’t have to look at anyone while he tried to cool his head. He had to mentally pull away from Drac to do this because his friend’s mind was oozing with satisfaction. A dragon saw nothing wrong in using his might to teach fools to fear and respect him.

“When he’s upset, the dragon gets upset,” Akakiba told Jien and Aito. “They amplify each other’s aggressiveness. He can’t help it.”

Yuki couldn’t tell whether Akakiba had meant him to hear that or not, so he pretended he hadn’t. He couldn’t argue it wasn’t like that between him and Drac, because it
was
. If he’d been better at controlling it, Akakiba wouldn’t have to make excuses for him.

“It’s not a bad thing to scare and shame gossips,” Aito said. “I’ve had to deal forcefully with a few bullies before.”

“Oh, I sense a good story there,” Jien said.

“I’d rather not speak of it.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“You do realize we’ll be alone together for several weeks, yes? I’ll get the story sooner or later.”

Recalling how relentless Jien could be, Yuki couldn’t help but smile. Aito might come to regret his offhand remark.

Conversation lulled as they rode through the city, following streets built wide to accommodate the passage of carts in both directions. The sun was newly risen and so were the city-dwellers: shopkeepers were tidying up, food stand owners were setting up, and bright-eyed children were running free.

Their party attracted cheerful waves, likely due to the two
sohei
among them. People here appeared proud of their temples. A pair of dogs took exception to Akakiba’s passage but their growls turned to whimpers when Drac turned his snake-like eyes toward them.

Twisting in the saddle, Yuki reached to caress soft scales. “No dogs for lunch either. You’ll have a chance to hunt soon.”

Drac settled for a nap, his mind full of images of fish and turtles he’d like to eat. Hmm, fish would certainly be nice if they could find a suitable river.

They left the city behind, shortly coming to a fork where the two paths plunged into the forest at different angles. Rain and wind had conspired to rob the trees of their adornments these past days; the paths were paved with colorful leaves, with near-naked trees standing on either side.

Here they paused, for it was where they parted.

“Good luck,” Jien said.

“Good luck,” Yuki replied awkwardly. His anger was long gone and his shame had doubled. Being rude to rude people was one thing, but there was no excuse for the way he had spoken to Jien, who had never been anything but a good friend. “And, ah, please accept my apology for my outburst. It was unwarranted.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jien said as he followed Aito on the left hand path. “First team back here with a sword wins!”

“You don’t stand a chance,” Akakiba shot back. He sounded irritated, but he was almost smiling, the corner of his mouth curving up.

“Oh, you’ll see!”

Yuki spent the rest of the morning in better humor, basking in Drac’s contentment at the warmth of the rising sun on his hide. Even Akakiba’s mood, which had often been bleak since Sanae’s body-death, seemed improved. Yuki was inclined to think it was the effect of spending time with the perpetually cheerful Jien, but Akakiba would no doubt have maintained it was the effect of being rid of Jien.

There was no rational way to explain the fox samurai and the human
sohei
’s odd relationship, but that was fine. Good things didn’t need explanations.

He gave an affectionate mental nudge to Drac’s slumbering mind and received one back. The sun’s warmth lulled him to a half-sleep himself. His horse didn’t require guidance anyhow; it knew to stay with its fellow.

It was too bad the warmth of autumn was drawing to an end. In the mountains where they were heading, winter came early.

I don’t miss being cold,
Sanae said on the first day it snowed, watching them pile on several layers of clothing and angle their straw hats to stop snowflakes from falling—and melting—in their neckline. The snow was yet thin on the ground but the dark clouds above promised to change this.

Sanae was bouncing along the trail, easily keeping up with the horses as she confirmed there was something at the energy sink for which they were headed.
You’ll be in the dead area in a day or two. There’s something where Jien and Aito are going, too, but it’s not as strong as the one you’ve got
.
I went to the temple to tell the old monk and he says he doesn’t like it. He worries they might know of these sinks because they somehow got hold of a copy of his map. If the boy Saji isn’t responsible for that, then who is? He’s trying to find out.

The bouncing fox stopped moving and began to fade.
Oh, I need to go visit Father. He caught a cold and he’s not resting enough. Later, fleshies.

For someone who could in a way be described as “dead,” Sanae acted impressively cheerfully. Yuki didn’t know her well enough to tell whether it was an act. Even if it were, what did you say to someone to help them get over being sort of dead?

“Yuki.” Akakiba snapped his fingers near his ear. “You’re falling off the horse.”

“I’m not,” he mumbled—and yelped as he almost slid off.

The horse stopped and looked back at him with a rather unimpressed expression, as if wondering why it had been given such an incompetent rider.

Drac stirred in his nest of blankets, wakened by the incident. “You almost fell again,” he said disapprovingly.

“It’s not my fault, it’s yours!”

Drac grumbled, speaking aloud because it helped him stay awake. “I don’t do it on purpose. I didn’t realize it’d be so cold my urge to hibernate would affect you.”

“We’ll have to be vigilant, that’s all. It’s too late to turn back, in any case.” Wide awake now, he gazed round while blowing on his cold fingers. “It’s true the temperature dropped astonishingly fast. I hate winter.”

“This from the man whose name means ‘snow,’” Akakiba said. His tone was wry, but his gaze worried. “We’re a day away now. It would be best if I left you two in a safe, warm place so you don’t go to sleep and starve to death.”

Yuki straightened in the saddle. “You want to go alone? Certainly not. They left poison on the other sword. Who knows what traps they’ll have set for this one? We should be there. Besides, it’s too late. The village we saw two days ago must have been the last. We’re in uninhabited country now.”

Akakiba gestured ahead. “Not quite too late.”

There was a large building there, its roof half rotted and the rest standing crooked. Had there not been light filtering from inside and footsteps in the snow around the door, it would have looked abandoned.

“In any case,” Akakiba added, “I would prefer to sleep inside tonight. By the look of those clouds, there’s a storm coming. An extra layer of snow might soften the biting cold.”

“One can hope.”

The door was solid wood, the same as the walls. The weather up here wouldn’t have been kind to paper doors. Akakiba knocked, calling, “Is there shelter for travelers here?”

A reed-thin child pulled the door half-open. She heaved and grunted as the door refused to slide open the rest of the way. It came free suddenly and she toppled to the ground before hastily getting to her feet again. “Do you have money?” she asked, peering at them from beneath a mop of hair. Her clothes were worn and patched but clean.

“Ari, you rude child! Don’t ask that!” A young woman of perhaps fifteen or sixteen years came into view, her clothing in the same state as the child’s but her hair better tended. “Come in, travelers. Close the door, Ari, the heat is escaping.”

The child had to throw herself bodily against the door to force it to scrape back in place.

Drac barely slithered inside in time to avoid getting his tail caught. “Careful!” he said in indignation.

“Dragon!” The small girl fell over again.

“Human!” Drac replied with equal emphasis.

Ari squeaked. “Sister, it can talk! You said dragons don’t talk!” She spoke as if misleading her on this matter was a terrible crime.

The sister seemed dumbfounded, so Yuki explained, “It’s true small dragons don’t. But great dragons do speak.”

Ari surveyed Drac. “That’s a great dragon? It’s not so big.”

“I’m still growing,” Drac said. “To be insulted by an ant-sized human, really.”

Ari drew herself up. “I’m still growing, too.”

“Please take no offense,” the elder sister said, “she’s young and careless.” She smoothed her clothes excessively, failing to disguise her unease. “Oh, pardon my rudeness. I didn’t introduce myself.” She fell into a bow. “My name is Chiyako and I welcome you in my home. The pest is Ari, my younger sister.”

They dutifully bowed back. “Call me Yuki.”

“Akakiba. We’re errant demon slayers.”

As always, Akakiba omitted to mention his clan. He hadn’t gone so far as to discard his katana and scabbard, which both bore the mark of his clan, but he kept a cloth tied around the scabbard so it wouldn’t be easily seen.

“Ari,” Chiyako ordered, “take the horses to the stable and give them the rest of the hay. It won’t have any other use.”

Normally Yuki would have worried the horses might hurt such a small child, but he knew by now their mounts were too even-tempered for that to happen.

“Please, come by the fire,” Chiyako said. “Would you take some tea? A snack, perhaps?”

The inside of the home wasn’t in as terrible a state of disrepair as the outside’s condition might have led them to expect. It was clean and orderly and the floor didn’t seem rotten—or at the very least didn’t give way under their weight as they approached the fire pit to warm their chilled bodies.

Drac arrived there first and spread out shamelessly. Yuki nudged him aside and knelt by, presenting his palms to the dancing flames. It was a modest fire, able to heat no more than the current room, and that must be why the doors leading to other rooms were closed. There were futon piled in a corner, hinting the girls slept here at night.

Chiyako hurried to make tea, behaving as though she believed courtesies could keep her safe from any nefarious intentions they might harbor. Yuki would have liked to reassure her they were harmless, but saying so was likely to heighten her fears instead of the opposite.

Tea came in beautiful cups, dainty things painted with pink cherry flowers.

Their hostess must have caught his surprise, for she said, “We weren’t always so poor. There was a time travelers were numerous here.”

“What changed?”