Page 31 of Shadow of the Fox

“You little thief!” The wind witch floated toward her, though her skin was ashen now, her eyes wide with fear. “Return that to me this instant. Give it back, and I will let you live.”

Yumeko shook her head, a grim smile playing across her lips. “No one should be forced into compliance, not even yokai,” she said. “I’m returning their sibling, so they can make their own choices.”

“No!” shrieked the witch, as Yumeko drew back her arm. “Stop! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

Yumeko hurled the netsuke into the air. It sailed up in a graceful arc, flashing as it caught the sun until, with a blast of wind and a streak of darkness across the sky, the piece of jewelry shattered. For a split second, I saw a kamaitachi hovering in the air, looking dazed, before it shook itself and vanished into a whirlwind.

The poison in my body was finally wearing off. I pushed myself to my knees and grabbed my sword, as the witch let out a wail and turned on the girl.

“You meddlesome fool,” she spat, and raised her arm, causing the wind to whip around her once more. I staggered upright, but my legs shook, and I nearly fell again. “You cost me my kamaitachi, but I don’t need those vermin to kill you. I’ll slice you to pieces my—aagh!”

She dropped her arm with a grimace, clutching her wrist, where her billowy sleeve had been cut in two. I looked up as three small furry shapes appeared in front of Yumeko, curved blades glinting in the sun as they faced the witch. Their eyes gleamed an angry red, their muzzles pulled back to reveal sharp yellow teeth, and the witch shrank away at the sight of them.

“No,” she said, as with a swirl of wind, the yokai disappeared. “Get away from me! Stay back!”

With a deafening shriek, a gale descended on her, tossing her hair and yanking wildly at her clothes. The wind witch screamed as her robe was torn apart, scattering fabric into the air, and hundreds of cuts opened up on her body. Yumeko winced and turned away, closing her eyes, as the witch continued to scream and the wind continued to gust around her.

Finally, the whirlwind sputtered and died, the breeze fading to a faint whisper. The wind witch, or what was left of her, swayed in place for a moment, eyes wide and unseeing, then collapsed to the rocky ground.

I observed her for a moment, making certain she was truly dead, before looking at Yumeko again. The girl sat against the gully wall, a trio of kamaitachi at her feet, sitting on their haunches with their blades folded back, watching her with solemn red eyes. I tensed, my hand dropping to my sword, but the yokai didn’t appear threatening any longer.

Yumeko smiled, pushing herself upright and deliberately not looking at the body of the wind witch, lying crumpled in the dirt. “You’re free now,” she said softly, and the kamaitachi cocked their heads, as if really listening. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m glad I could help.”

As one, the yokai lowered their heads and bowed. Then, with excited yips and snarls, they spiraled into the air, wind and leaves swirling around them, and were gone.

13

Song of the Kodama

It took us the rest of the afternoon to get out of the ravine.

“Tatsumi, stop,” I said, after we’d walked several yards from Kiba-sama’s cave, leaving the demon bear and the body of the wind witch where they had fallen. He paused and looked back at me with cold purple eyes, having said nothing since the fight with the witch and the bear. I ignored the tingle of fear and gestured to his torn haori, where a dark stain was beginning to spread below his shoulders. “You’re bleeding.”

My voice shook a little. There was a faint ringing in my ears, and I felt like I could lose my breakfast if I thought too hard about certain things. The encounter with the wind witch, the kamaitachi and the great demon bear felt surreal, as if it had happened to someone else. I remembered the struggle in flashes: the terror of falling down the ravine, the ground trembling as Kiba-sama emerged from the cave, the helplessness of watching Tatsumi fend off the bearandthe kamaitachi. The rage as the witch directed her familiars to attack the demonslayer while he was distracted. I’d snatched a rock from the stream, intending to give the witch something else to think about, and suddenly remembered a voice from the night before, his final words before he disappeared.

Kamaitachi always come in threes. Their loyalty to each other is unbreakable. Remember that, and ask yourself why Kazekira has onlytwofamiliars.

Because they didn’twantto help her, I’d realized. The weasel yokai were her familiars because she was forcing them to obey. Because she held hostage the one thing that could give them pause.

The third kamaitachi.

At least, I’d hoped that was the case. I couldn’t be absolutely certain. It had been a gamble, but I’d had to help somehow, both to free the sickle weasels and to save Tatsumi, who would have died trying to fight both the witch and the demon bear. Calling out to her familiars was the only thing I’d thought of. When the witch had slammed me in the wall and I’d lain there, aching and trying not to pass out, a tiny voice, soft and raspy, had whispered in my ear.

Our brother. She keeps him in her obi. Save him and free us all.

I’d seen a streak of brown fur vanish into the air as I raised my head. I’d also seen the wind witch standing over Tatsumi with a knife angled toward his heart, and terror had flooded my veins. There had been no time for tricks, no time for fox magic, kitsune-bi, or illusions. My only thought had been to save Tatsumi.

It was pure luck that, in the struggle with the witch on the ground, my hand had closed over something small and hard beneath her obi. And that I had been able to grab it just as she’d hurled me away. What had happened afterward...my stomach churned with the memory. I wasn’t sorry for what I’d done; she would have killed us both if she could, and the kamaitachi were now free. But it didn’t change the fact that the wind witch was dead, torn apart by her own familiars, and I was the one who had caused it.

I tried putting it from my mind as we walked along the riverbank, seeking a spot where we could climb out of the ravine. As the adrenaline wore off, various aches and bruises all over my body began to make themselves known. I also noticed the tear in Tatsumi’s black haori, and the darker stain spreading over his back.

“Tatsumi,” I said again, and hurried to catch up. “Wait. You’re hurt. We should take care of that before we go any farther.”

For a moment, I didn’t think he would stop; his face was blank, that icy mask remaining over his features. But then he nodded once and walked toward the tiny stream cutting through the gully floor. Reaching into his jacket, he knelt and carefully pulled out a square of paper, revealing a few pinches of green powder inside.

I watched as he added several drops of water and mixed it into a familiar paste. Then he paused, gazing down at the salve as if just coming to a realization.

“Yumeko.” His voice was hesitant, almost inaudible. I stepped forward to hear better, leaning close, and he exhaled. “I can’t...reach the wound on my own. Would you be able to...?”

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