Page 106 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
“Poaching.”
Realizing her peril, the woman shrieked and ran toward the house, only to spin and stumble back toward the fox. She froze there, trembling before the monster. Tsumiko couldn’t understand the woman’s behavior. Why turn back? Was she somehow in Nona’s thrall? Confusion cleared at the sound of a whimper coming from the garden’s edge. A baby. Her baby.
As the thin cry of an infant rose, the woman swayed forward, calling for her daughter. Yet her feet didn’t move. Green eyes alight with greedy malice, the vixen jabbed and jostled the baby’s basket with her narrow muzzle.
“Dosomething,” Tsumiko begged.
But Argent remained at her side. “Before reavers understood why we found their souls so delectable, predators like Nona became the monsters of human fables—robbing cradles, waylaying children, gulping down bright souls.”
“Can’t you stop her?”
“Not this time.” Anger glittered in his gaze, but his veneer of calm held. “This is an old story. Its end is already written.”
Horror slicked Tsumiko’s skin as the helpless child disappeared in one gulp. Such casual cruelty. Such careless disdain. Didn’t the Amaranthine share an understanding of life’s sacredness? Surely that girl was precious in the sight of her mother, her father, her Maker.
The blood drained from Tsumiko’s face, and a roar began inside her head.
Argent caught her. “You did ask. In these early days, humans were easy pickings. Reavers had only just begun gathering strength and making allies. Stragglers with the scent and savor of power fell prey to the greedy. We consumed body and soul, gaining glory by theft.”
“Why murder? Why not tending?”
“Tending requires time and trust. Nona is more interested in rising through the ranks of house and clan, in attaining the highest titles and the widest recognition. And in enticing a powerful mate.”
“You?”
“She would deny it.”
Tsumiko was almost afraid to ask, to face a terrible possibility. “You saidweearlier—weconsumed body and soul. Did you really …? Did you eat children?”
“Personally? Are you certain you wish to know?”
Did she?
The scene shifted, and again he said, “See for yourself.”
She was sorely tempted to cover her eyes. If he was going to show her more death, she didn’twantto see. Yes, she wanted to know, but she didn’t want to watch another life ruthlessly ending.
Argent moved behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders, his tails curling around her feet, his voice soothing her fears. “I was fond of children, but not as a dietary supplement. Watch, Tsumiko. This is how I was captured.”
. . .
They stood on a forested slope, overlooking a rustic village. A crimson sunset stained an irregular network of flooded fields, and smoke bled upward from squat wooden houses set ablaze. Across the distance, screams and shouts reached Tsumiko’s ears—pain, dismay, defiance. And over it all, the quavering yips of two giant red foxes.
“Is it them again?” she asked.
“The Hightip sisters always did enjoy a raucous feeding frenzy.” Argent’s lip developed a disdainful curl. “But this was a poor choice in prey.”
Tsumiko felt a tremor just before the sky above the village fizzed and crackled to life. Wards flared, their sigils etched in lightning as they spread outward. One of the vixens yelped and sprang backward.
“A reaver village?” asked Tsumiko.
He inclined his head. “Here, reavers are more organized. They have learned how to defend themselves. And how to hide.”
“But the foxes found them.”
Argent hummed. “By happenstance. The village’s barrier fell when their brightest star fled. Once Nona and Senna notice she is missing, they will abandon the rest to track her down.”
Her? He must mean the strongest reaver. Perhaps their leader? Tsumiko asked, “And you were here, too?”
