Page 59 of Shadow of the Fox

Every spot is armored.“Okame,” I gasped, turning to the ronin, who was fitting another arrow to his bow. “The eyes! The eyes aren’t protected. Aim for the eyes.”

“What?” Okame lowered his bow and gaped at me, then the centipede. The huge yokai thrashed about in the center of the bridge, snapping at Tatsumi and Oni no Mikoto as they desperately tried to avoid getting caught between its huge pinchers. Tatsumi lashed out with Kamigoroshi as the centipede’s head snaked down, and the monster recoiled, furiously gnashing its jaws.

“Dammit, it’s moving around too much,” Okame growled, sighting down his bow at the huge yokai. “And its eyeball is the size of a persimmon, so it’s really hard to get a shot. If the bastard would stop moving around, I just need it to be still for a second...”

I swallowed hard. “Keep aiming,” I said, stepping forward. “I’ll get it to stop.”

Walking to the edge of the bridge, I watched the battle raging in the center: Tatsumi and Oni no Mikoto trying to put a dent in the centipede’s armor, to little effect. The centipede had lost several more legs, which lay scattered over the planks, twitching weakly, but it didn’t seem hampered by the loss of its limbs. Heart pounding, I put a thumb and forefinger into my mouth and did what always annoyed Denga-san.

A long, piercing whistle echoed over the bridge. The omukade froze at the sound and glanced up. For just a moment, its cold, beady gaze met mine, just before an arrow flew overhead and struck the very center of one bulbous black eye.

The yokai wailed. Its huge body thrashed wildly, smashing into posts and railings, snapping beams and splintering wood. Tatsumi and Oni no Mikoto quickly dove aside, but the Demon Prince was struck by a writhing coil that knocked him to the edge of the bridge and sent him over. I saw his lean form plummet toward the river, long pale hair streaming behind him, before he struck the water and vanished below the surface.

And then, I looked back at the bridge, and saw the omukade glaring at me with its one good eye, mandibles trembling with rage.

Well, that certainly got its attention.

I turned and ran as the monster charged with a shriek, multiple legs skittering over the bridge. I didn’t dare look back, but the furious chitter of snapping centipede jaws told me it was closing rapidly.

Tree, tree, I need a tree!

Spotting a twisted pine at the edge of the riverbank, I changed direction and darted toward it, snatching a leaf from the ground as I did. As I neared the tree, I whispered a few words of fox magic and released the leaf just before I ducked behind the trunk. And I hoped none of the others would see the second Yumeko appear, cringing at the base of the pine.

On the other side of the trunk, I held my breath, praying the omukade wouldn’t see through the illusion. I needn’t have worried, because with a screech that made my ears ring, the centipede crashed headfirst into the trunk. I felt the solidthunkof its mandibles slicing through the fake Yumeko, sinking deep into the wood and making the tree rattle.

As the centipede thrashed, trying to dislodge itself, I sprang to the first overhanging branch, pulled myself up and instantly reached for another. Years of climbing the old maple tree in the temple gardens made it easy to shimmy up the trunk, and fear of the monster below made me quick.

I was halfway up the tree when the omukade tore itself loose with a splintering of tree bark. Looking down, I met its flat, soulless gaze as it peered up the pine and gave a hiss of fury. Gnashing its pinchers, it began to climb, dozens of bright yellow legs moving it up the trunk with frightening speed.

I climbed higher, hearing the hissing and scraping of the yokai as it pursued. As the branches became smaller and narrower, the centipede began to slow. But its body was so long, it was able to reach even the tallest limbs without much effort, though the tree itself began to sway and groan under the monster’s weight.

Finally, there was nowhere else to run. I had reached the top of the tree, and the centipede was still coming. Pulling my tanto, I climbed as far away as I could, watching the bulbous crimson skull push through the branches below my feet. Mandibles scraping together, it slithered up the trunk toward me. The pine creaked and groaned, and the trunk bent and swayed dangerously, but it held.

As it drew closer, and I could see every detail on its hideous, segmented body, I noticed something. The top half of the huge creature was covered in that shiny black carapace that deflected arrows and sword strikes. But the underside, between the dozens of skittering legs, looked softer, almost fleshy. Certainly not the impenetrable armor of its top half. But how to get beneath it was the question.

Raising my tanto with one hand, I started gathering my magic with the other, hoping that a desperate blast of foxfire to its face would distract or startle it long enough for me to do...something.

“Yumeko!”

The familiar voice rang out below me, and close. I spared a glance down and saw Tatsumi on a lower branch, Kamigoroshi engulfed in purple flames, casting the demonslayer in an eerie light. His eyes seemed to glow crimson as he extended his other hand in my direction.

“Jump,” he ordered, making my stomach drop. “Now.”

I swallowed. “It’s an awfully long ways down, Tatsumi.”

“I’ll catch you,” he replied. “I promise. Hurry!”

Well, between getting eaten by a centipede and falling to my death, I suppose I’d take the latter. As the omukade lunged with a hiss, I gathered myself and leaped away from the trunk, a shriek lodging somewhere in my throat as I plummeted downward. I barely had time to panic when something caught me around the waist, halting my downward plunge. Tatsumi pulled me onto the branch and set me on my feet, still holding Kamigoroshi in his other hand. I was shocked at how strong he was, able to catch a falling body, one-armed, from a narrow, uneven ledge without losing his balance.

As I looked into his face, a shiver raced up my spine. His eyeswereglowing, a subtle crimson light shining in their depths, looking entirely inhuman.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, and his voice sounded a little different, too. Lower, somehow darker, but strained. As if he was fighting...something.

“The underside isn’t protected,” I told him, seeing his eyes narrow in confusion. “The carapace—the armor—it doesn’t have anything on its belly. You have to strike from beneath.”

His eyes widened, and he nodded. Above us, the omukade swung its head and body toward our branch, hissing and gnashing its jaws. Still holding me around the waist, Tatsumi abruptly dropped from the limb, falling to a branch underneath. I bit back a yelp, resisting the urge to clutch at his haori jacket, as he set me on my feet, gazing up at the long body of the omukade, twisting through the limbs overhead. The head peered balefully down at us, hissed and started sliding through the branches in pursuit.

“Can you lure it away?” Tatsumi asked in a low voice. “Get it to chase you?”

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