The Heavenly Fox (2 page)

"So I killed one lover rather than hundreds. One life is still a murder, and I am guilty. The fool married me before he died, thus I have murdered my husband and am doubly guilty. As I am never going to die and face judgment from the Lord of the Underworld or anyone else, the consequences don't particularly concern me."

"Spoken like a true fox," said Wildeye with grudging respect. "How long?"

"My One-Thousandth birthday is tomorrow. At dawn I will become an immortal."

"Then I will return to greet the dawn with you. I've never seen this transformation before," said Wildeye, and in a blast of wind and swirl of clouds, he was gone.

"Neither have I," Springshadow said, though she was quite alone.

Her isolation was not quite literally true. Though not yet immortal, she already had the gift of awareness and used it now to scan the terrain surrounding her mountain home. It was, as she expected, nearly empty. That was one reason she had chosen it in the first place. While she had cherished the gift of awareness when it had come to her on her one-hundredth birthday, over the years it had become more a burden than anything. Honestly, why should she care that a nightingale two mountains over thought a particular pebble was very shiny? Such things could fill her mind if she let them, which is why these days she never used her awareness except to check if anyone in the vicinity wished her harm. She had never found anyone who did, since very few people knew who and what she was, and those who did either didn't care, or if wronged, were in no position to seek revenge.

All her careful planning would culminate at tomorrow's dawn, and that, she knew, would be that. She would have succeeded where so many others of her kind had failed. Springshadow only knew of one other fox who had made the transformation, a male known as Sunflash, and no one had seen him in centuries. Some of her kind wondered about this absence and what it meant, but Springshadow did not wonder. A Heavenly Fox would clearly have concerns far beyond those of mortal foxkind. Tomorrow she would know what those concerns were and share them. She would dwell in the Heavens. She would be nothing less than a goddess. Springshadow had never been a goddess before. She could hardly wait to try it.

"Hello," said someone who should not have been there.

Springshadow looked up to find a radiant being in yellow and blue robes smiling down at her. The intruder appeared to be a human woman of surpassing beauty, but Springshadow knew a goddess when she saw one — even though she had never seen one in her long life before this morning. Illusion was second nature to a fox, and Springshadow would have known if the being was something other than what she appeared to be. In an instant Springshadow was on her feet, her weariness forgotten. She put as much distance between herself and the intruder as she reasonably could.

"Who are you?!"

The goddess raised her right hand, palm open and facing toward Springshadow. "I'm sorry if I startled you, but I mean you no harm, Springshadow. My name is Guan Shi Yin."

"The Goddess of Mercy?"

Now Springshadow was really confused. Guan Shi Yin had several special realms of responsibility, including helping infertile women and comforting souls in pain, even those tormented in the pits of hell. Yet there was nothing about her, so far as Springshadow knew, that had any interest in foxes, heavenly or otherwise.

"The same," said the goddess. "My methods of travel are somewhat unconventional, so I didn't realize you wouldn't know that I was coming. Again, my apologies."

Springshadow wasn't sure if she should bow or not, so she settled for a polite nod. "To...to what do I owe the honor of this visit, Immanent One?"

There was a trace of a smile on the goddess's face. At least Springshadow thought there might be. Or perhaps it was just her normal expression.

"Springshadow, tomorrow you will have lived one thousand years as a mortal. Since you are a student of The Den and Burrow Guide to Immortality, I have no doubt that you think you understand what that means, but one effect you may not be aware of is that an impending ascension weakens the barriers between the Heavens and the mortal realm. This allowed me to find you easily. In my capacity as the advocate of the dead, I was asked to deliver a message to you."

This was an eventuality that Springshadow had not prepared for. Apparently her impending ascension had already come to the attention of Heaven. She wasn't entirely sure that this was a good thing. She had spent most of her life avoiding anything that might interfere with her plans. This development had the scent of interference — or worse — all over it.

She steeled herself. "A message? From Whom?"

"In life he was your husband, Zou Xiaofan."

For a moment, Springshadow forgot to breathe. She composed herself with an effort. "You're running errands for a lowly ghost?"

The smile, while remaining ethereal and faint, didn't waver. "My special charge is the ease of suffering. There was something Xiaofan wished to tell you. The matter was troubling him greatly."

"Where is he?" Springshadow asked.

"In one of the numerous and varied hells. Which one is probably of little concern to you. Will you hear his message?"

Springshadow licked her lips. "Must I?"

The goddess shrugged. "You may refuse. Shall I tell him you do not want to hear what he has to say?"

Springshadow finally shook her head. "I am no coward, to be afraid of a mere ghost. You have learned what passed between myself and Xiaofan and I do not deny it. I did what I had to do and would do so again."

"I have accused you of nothing, nor do I intend to do so. I do not judge; that is not my dominion. Will you hear what Xiaofan wished to tell you?"

"I will," Springshadow said. She made an effort to keep her gaze level. "Though it is safe to assume that Xiaofan will accuse me of much. Mostly justified, as I said. No matter. If it will ease Xiaofan's suffering, I am willing to bear the brunt of his hatred. It's the least I can do. What does he say?"

"He wants you to know that he understands why you did what you did. He says that he still loves you."

"Oh," Springshadow said. For a long time, that was all she said. Then she sighed. "What an idiot."

#

Hours later Springshadow and Guan Shi Yin sat together in front of Springshadow's hearth. Somewhat to the fox’s surprise, the goddess had gladly accepted a cup of tea, and they had talked so far into the night that it was almost morning.

"It's not that I really expected you to be impressed by Xiaofan's chivalry," Guan Shi Yin said after they had become better acquainted. "You're a fox. And that sort of nobility is easier for humans to both generate and appreciate...no offense intended."

"None taken," Springshadow said. "I suppose it's something like being color-blind. My eyesight as a fox is very keen — I have no problem with shadows and edges, for instance, but I just can't quite get a handle on ‘red’.”

“Or human feelings?”

Springshadow shrugged. “Those too. The basic motivations are easy enough: hunger, lust, fear, and such. Foxes and humans share those. A lot of the rest of the human perspective is just a mystery to me. Though I daresay I've gotten quite good at mimicking it."

"I dare say," Guan Shi Yin agreed and sipped her tea.

"What do you think Xiaofan was trying to accomplish by this message to me? I mean, honestly? He's dead, he's in hell, and he was placed in a particular hell by the Lord of the Underworld's judgment, so it's reasonable to assume he belongs there. Why should I feel guilty about that?"

The goddess shrugged. "I'm not saying you should. I delivered the message because Xiaofan prayed to me and said that my doing so would ease his suffering, and so I agreed. Easing the suffering of individuals is what I do. I know that, as the Buddha teaches, desire is the root of all such suffering, but I don't pretend to know all the shapes and manifestations that desire takes. Everyone's a little different."

"Would it help him if I asked you to tell him that I love him too? And that I'm sorry for what I did to him?"

"Is either true?"

Springshadow thought about it. "I don't think so. I had some affection for Xiaofan, but I killed him to get what I needed, which does not sound like love to me. As for the second, definitely not."

"Then I can't deliver that message," Guan Shi Yin said, and this time Springshadow was sure that the goddess was smiling, if ever so faintly. "I can neither lie nor knowingly carry a lie. A not always convenient virtue, I'll grant you."

Springshadow shrugged. "Well, then. It was just a thought."

Outside her mountain cave the sky was turning pale. Springshadow rose and walked out to the cave entrance, Guan Shi Yin following. The dawn sky was just visible as a yellow-orange streak to the east, a streak that was growing wider and brighter and coming closer by the moment.

"It's almost time. How do you feel?" the goddess asked.

"I feel...expansive," Springshadow said. "Like there's more to me than I thought there was."

"I'd say your spirit is preparing itself. Ah, that will be Wildeye."

The wild-haired Taoist roared up on his golden cloud, disturbing the sound of the morning birds. He hopped off onto the broad ledge in front of Springshadow's cave, while his cloud flitted up to circle the mountain peak, idly. "Sorry I'm late. Have I missed anything?"

"Much," said Guan Shi Yin, "but if you're referring to Springshadow's apotheosis, you're still on time."

Wildeye looked as if he wanted to go back the way he'd come when he saw Guan Shi Yin, but he merely spared a grudging and hasty bow in the goddess's general direction and went up to Springshadow. "It won't be long now."

The first direct glimmer of the sun was visible over the mountains. For a moment Springshadow gazed in wonder as its glow enveloped her, before she realized that glow was not a reflection of the sun but was arising from within herself. She stared at her hands, now glowing like molten bronze in a furnace.

"I-I can't contain it!"

The expansive feeling she had before was nothing compared to this. She felt at once like Springshadow greeting the dawn on her One-Thousandth Birthday and the dawn itself, spreading to encompass the world and everything around it. She was Springshadow, and yet she was also Guan Shi Yin and Wildeye, and a hermit on the next mountain dreaming of a woman, and an immortal two mountains over from that who was not dreaming of anything. She was all those things and becoming more all the time. She was exhilarated. She was terrified.

Somewhere in the distance she felt a touch on her shoulder and knew it was Guan Shi Yin, because she herself was Guan Shi Yin, or the other way round, and every other way there was.

"You're just touching the Universal Truth," said the goddess's voice, at once distant and yet more intimate than a whisper. "You won't forget, but you'll stop dwelling on it after a while. Helps one to function. Even a goddess."

"What Universal Truth?" Springshadow asked, but even as she asked, she knew. There was no Guan Shi Yin, no Wildeye, no hermit two mountains over or an immortal on the next peak. They were all the same thing. Everything and everyone, aware or not, was the same thing. And, for that moment, Springshadow was that everything, all that was or would be. Just before she felt that surely she would succumb to that knowledge and become everything forever, she felt another hand on her other shoulder. That was Wildeye.

"Time to come down, girl."

It was like a bucket of cold water in the face. Springshadow felt herself shrinking down like a doused fire until she stood on the mountain ledge and was just Springshadow again. But that other knowledge, that other awareness and certainty, was still there, like a letter locked in a box that she could read at any time and call back everything that the letter evoked. She felt a little dizzy.

"That wasn't very nice," Guan Shi Yin said.

Disoriented as she was, it was a moment or two before she realized that Guan Shi Yin and Wildeye were arguing. "She touched the Universal Truth and was this close," Guan Shi Yin held her two index fingers barely a whisker's width apart, "to transcending. And you had to spoil it!"

"And watch my friend fall into that trap of oblivion? Not a chance, Immanence."

Springshadow groaned and found a convenient rock to sit down on. It was a familiar rock, one she had used to take the evening air on countless occasions. But it felt different to her now, somehow...wrong. She tried to focus on the two squabbling immortals. "What are you two going on about?"

It occurred to Springshadow that she could know exactly what they were squabbling about. She had the key. She decided that, for now, it was simpler merely to ask.

"Part of the process of apotheosis is an introduction to transcendence. Some choose to remain in that state," Guan Shi Yin said. "It looked like you had chosen that path when this oaf intervened."

"And who was it had her hand on the girl's other shoulder? Your contact had as much to do with her return as mine."

"At least I didn't call her back."

"No, but you do want her back. You want her as she is now! Don't bother to deny it," Wildeye said. "You know you can't lie to me. You can't lie to anyone."

Guan Shi Yin scowled at him but finally sighed. "It's true. I need her."

"For what?" Springshadow asked. "And what the heck is wrong with my rock? If feels like its grown a knot."

"That's not the rock, girl. That's you,” Wildeye said. “Stand up."

Springshadow stood up. Her form was somewhere between fully human and fully vulpine; a transitional form that gave her human hands and other aspects of humans that were useful, without fully surrendering her fox senses, and she'd used it often. Only now there seemed to be more to it. Several "mores", actually. "My tail feels funny."

"Say rather your tails, girl," Wildeye said, and started counting.

"You're a Heavenly Fox now, Springshadow. Look up," said the goddess.

Springshadow looked up. There, in the distant sky far beyond the clouds, far beyond the mortal world yet clearly visible, clearly reachable, was a magnificent floating city with towers of gold and walls of the finest jade.