Page 42 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
Michael muttered, “Oh, no, you don’t.” Power pulsed and swirled around them. It was as if a scrim dropped between the three of them and the sea, translucent as a filmy curtain shivering in a summer breeze. He said, “Best to keep what secrets we can. She may know that Miss Tsumiko is lady of the manor, but we’re under no obligation to introduce her to our gardener.”
Gingko said, “Bet she wasn’t expecting anything more challenging than Minx.”
“Lady Nona has badly underestimated our defenses,” agreed Michael.
The pitch of battle escalated until all Tsumiko could see was a writhing, whirling tangle of fur—red and silver. “What can I do?” she asked.
Michael ignored the question, addressing Gingko. “No matter what happens, keep Tsumiko safe. Even if it means going into hiding.”
“I can do that.”
“Are all your old bolt-holes still warded?”
“Yeah, they’re good to go.”
Tsumiko swayed. “Is it going that badly?”
Michael’s tone remained light. “Just a precaution.”
Angry yips and growls became screams, and Tsumiko’s hands slipped over her ears. This was a hundred times worse than the cat fights that sometimes broke out in the alleys behind the school. While she would have liked to turn away, it was more important to know if Argent was all right.
Wait.
She might not be able to support Michael, but couldn’t she send her strength to Argent? Touching the beads at her wrist, she asked, “Can’t I help Argent?”
“Don’t remove your ward,” Michael said sharply. “Any power you release onto the battle field would be lapped up by both of them. And Lady Nona is probably hoping you’ll expose yourself.”
“You’d be gone in a snap,” Gingko said, snatching at the air. “Gobbled up in one gulp.”
“She’d actually eat me?”
“Given the state she’s in, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Michael said. “And with you gone, Argent’s life would be forfeit. The only way you can help him now is to stay hidden.”
“Dad’s existence might be outed, and she’s gotta figure you’re his source of strength. But we don’t need to advertise the fact that you’re also his biggest vulnerability.”
Fear trickled icily into Tsumiko’s knees, weakening them.
Gingko wrapped his arm round her waist and hauled her close. “Calm down. He’s got the upper hand.”
“How can you tell?”
“There’s blood in the air,” he said grimly. “Trust me, it’ll be over soon.”
Over was good, provided the outcome was favorable. “Can he win?” she whispered.
“No doubt,” said Gingko. “He’s defending his home.”
The foxes ranged back and forth, sometimes pressing toward the shore, only to push out across increasingly hectic waters. Suddenly, the combatants broke apart with an angry roar, and Tsumiko shuddered. Blood matted the red fox’s forelimb, which had been cruelly wrenched and dangled uselessly in its socket. Again, the vixen screamed, a horrible, hair-raising blast of emotion, before turning all nine tails to flee.
The silver fox gave chase for a short distance, snapping at her heels.
“See?” said Gingko.
Tsumiko managed a small nod, but there was neither triumph nor relief in this victory.
Argent’s tails slowly lowered, trailing in the water as his sides heaved. Sansa shouted at him, and the great fox turned his head, searching. Michael let the barrier drop, and Argent wheeled to shore. He left blood on the sand as he hobbled toward the cliff.
Rearing up, he planted his forepaws on the ground before them, peering down a narrow muzzle streaked with blood. With an awkward scrabble, he dragged himself upward. Gingko and Michael pulled Tsumiko back to make room as the beast sagged to the ground. In a whirlwind of light as blue as Argent’s blaze, the giant fox vanished, leaving a crumpled form on the grass.
