Page 16 of The Devil You Know

“You didn’t see shit,” I grumbled, crossing my arms defensively.

“Well, then the most hilarious thing I had heard about in millennia. I think the fox likes you. Why would it sit on you otherwise?”

“Because it is a punishment for all my sins, sent by God himself. My ultimate nemesis.”

The angel mimed getting shot in the heart.

“I’m hurt! Aren’t I your nemesis?” he batted his eyelashes at me.

“If you were to believe the Bible, it’s God himself who is my ultimate nemesis,” I snorted. “Maybe the humans are onto something. Hey, maybe the fox is God and he will decide to shit into my boots next.”

“Nah, God isn’t that petty.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, did you miss his Egyptian plagues era? Or him appearing on Earth as his Jesus alter ego and making a whip on the spot just to hit some poor merchants with it? He absolutely is that petty.” I hated to ruin the fun atmosphere, but I had to say the next, serious part. “He was that petty.”

Michael looked as if I hit him at the reminder.

It was going to be one of these days then. Was it better or worse that the angel decided to give me the silent treatment instead of getting into a shouting match? Either way, I was in a sour mood for the rest of the day and I took the opportunity to go out of the camp when I saw our fish levels getting low. Unwilling to trek as far as the seashore I took a chance on our new experiment: a fishing rod. It was a stick with a tightly wound, handmade rope tied to it. At the end dangled a fishhook carved into a pointy shape. As rudimentary as it looked, it still did its job. While not as time efficient as my sea traps, at least all the waiting I had to do was meditative. But even if my dark mood lightened a little, I still scowled when I saw a white shape in the nearby bushes.

Whatever. It was really Michael who wanted to get the little critter not me. I turned my head away from the sight, continuing my fishing.

I tensed as a scrapping noise came closer to me but didn’t move. In the next hour or so, I watched out of the corner of my eye as the fox circled around me curiously. In the end, he came right next to me and sniffed at the basket with the fish I caught.

“You smelled the opportunity, you little rascal, didn’t you? Well, I applaud your bravery. Here.”

I tossed one of the disappointingly small catches his way and watched the fox gobble it up with enthusiasm. Then it sat next to me, that happy foxy grin on full display. It was obviously waiting for me to feed it some more, but I wasn’t going to part with the big fish I caught – that was my dinner, in case nothing else took the bait tonight. When I felt a tug on the line I jumped to my feet and the fox scurried away. A pity, as my catch was small enough I would have shared it with the snowy vulpes.

Fishing in that lake had become a habit even as we moved our camp further to the west, continuing our exploration. The atmosphere between me and Michael was still tense, like a powder keg waiting to explode. Remembering my promise to myself I reached out to take Michael’s hand in mine but he pulled away from the touch.

Honestly... it made me angry.

When the fox appeared once more at my side, I used the pretense of having someone there with me to rant. Talking to yourself means you are mad. Talking to animals is just eccentric. I could deal with eccentric.

“...and I really don’t know why he is doing it! Ok, maybe I know, but that doesn’t mean it makes sense, or is right, or that he should do it... Ugh!” The fox yipped at me. “See? You agree with me... wait, what should I call you? I can’t just call you ‘fox’. You are a boy, aren’t you? Maybe... Frosty? Snow? Snowball? Blanc? Those are so lame... I’m not good with names. Wait! I know! I called you the Bane of My Existence once. Bane! That’s it!”

The fox tried to nip at my flailing hand, so I took it as approval.

bBne and I grew closer over the next week of slow exploration. Close enough he let me pet him and would likely let me carry him, or at least lure him back to the camp with food if I wanted. Spitefully, I kept him away from Michael.

That proved to be a mistake.

One day, I returned from fishing without meeting my companion. I wasn’t concerned – Bane had foxy things to do and would inevitably return when he realized how lucky he was to have a personal food provider – but I still missed his company.

My frown only got worse when I realized I was missing two companions, not one.

Michael was nowhere to be seen.

Usually, he didn’t stray far away from the camp, preferring to send me on any tasks that required legwork, while he took care of all the preparations, maintenance, cooking, and craft work. I called out his name to no response. A quick check in the surrounding area didn’t turn anything either. Where the hell was he?

It was only a stroke of luck that I spotted movement in a place I didn’t expect to see it: up on the mountain. I stared in disbelief as Michael laboriously made his way up the wall of stone. What possessed him to go there with his fucked up leg?! A flash of white above the angel answered my question. The idiot was chasing Bane. My pet fox who only needed a fish to be all over your lap.

But Michael didn’t know that.

I wanted to scream at the idiot to come down, but, with my luck, shouting would bring on an avalanche or he would drop off the wall in surprise. So, I gritted my teeth and followed. It took some time to catch up to Michael – he had quite a head start, it seemed – but by the time I climbed to a ledge below him I was only a little out of breath.

“Michael!” I hissed in a scandalized whisper, making the angel snap his head in my direction. “For the love of everything that’s holy, what are you doing? Come down! Give me your hand. I will help you.”

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