FSE

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The rustle and whip of wind through trees keeps us company on our trip down the mountain. Saki sets a swift pace, her long legs unrestrained by her clothes, but she slows once we're near the area I guess to be Meiko and Kenta's grounds. The gnarled, twisted trees and their leafless branches all look the same in winter, but the lack of any pines in the distance stands out to me now. It's as if life has abandoned this stretch of the forested mountain. Saki walks purposefully, her tails bundled up together and bouncing with each step, but the false relaxation in her movements speak of her readiness for action. I have little doubt that she will leap at anything that rustles in the forest around us, my instincts bristling because of her predatory readiness.

Then again, with my hand so close to my sword and knife, perhaps she feels the same about me. Gone are the days of rest and weakness. I walk with as much purpose as her, my ears strained and eyes alert.

We make it through the dead area with no incident, and soon the shrines on the side of the path show no disarray. Saki's tails droop and she slows down once we're past the dead area. Meiko's fate must weigh on her, more than the existence of that man-eater in the woods weighs on me and makes the skin of my neck prickle.

In the sky ahead thin gray and eerie red smoke continues to ominously rise, staining the clear blue above, and surely visible from any of the nearby mountains. Who else might come to check? Gripping the pommel of my sword, I'm glad to have the weapon. I've had my hand on it the entire trip, to keep the hilt and broad pommel warm against my skin and safe inside my sleeve. Better to be prepared for a fight than draw freezing steel in the midst of winter, and I even notice Saki doing the same to her sword.

Weary of the silence, and knowing we still have a ways to go, I risk conversation. "You carry a lot of weapons. Do you expect trouble?"

"Do you?" Saki asks back, gaze ahead.

"Always."

"Then perhaps you are as wise as eldest sister said."

My lips sting, and it's not from the cold. It's all I can do to keep from scowling at the mention of the master of this mountain. Our last bitter exchange clings harshly to my every thought.

A few silent steps later, the eight-tail points to the rising smoke. "The red smoke is from Rin's talisman. Something else must burn along with it."

"Something big," I guess, not wanting to say what I truly think. There's enough smoke for a hut or two to be in flames. If fortune is on our side maybe only a woodshed burns from an accident, but I don't hold to that hope.

"We will see soon." She looks over at me, her angry half-mask hiding any hint of true emotion. "The villagers do not need to know my name. While we are there, I am either kitsune or Akaiyari."

I nod, hoping there won't be a need for either of us to intervene. "Egil or foreigner works for me," I dryly reply. When there's only silence from her, I dare to ask a question in hopes of distracting my thoughts. "What does Akaiyari mean?"

"It was a nickname the villagers' ancestors gave me," she says. "In their unrefined dialect it's red spear." She shrugs, showing what I think might be a twinge of embarrassment. "I thought it was better than blood spear."

"Blood spear sounds like the sort of name a warrior of my homeland would covet," I chuckle.

"Does Egil mean anything?" she asks, surprising me with the almost personable question. I guess she has thoughts she'd rather not dwell on as well.

"Yes," I answer. After a few moments of silence, I give in to the sidelong look she's giving me, somewhat. "It's to honor one of my ancestor's names."

"And you won't share that or the meaning, will you?"

There is no way I'm telling a magical creature my full name. Not after dealing with faeries. "After so long speaking other languages, I seem to have forgotten the full name given to me," I lie, not caring if she sees through my deception.

"I hope you remember," she says, with such seriousness I can't tell if she believes my lie or not. "I would be distraught if I forgot the name given to me."

Does she believe my lie? If she does, I might feel bad. Worse than I already do, not that I'm letting any of that show. "Well," I begin, "I hope we won't need the skill that gave you that nickname."

"And I will hope we don't need to see if you have the skills of a yamabushi or not," she says, quickening her pace to get ahead of me. "We are almost there. Walk behind me."

My hand shifting to hold my sword more lightly, I match her pace while thinking about the plan. Surprises in a fight are the best weapons, but with the weapons we each carry I have to disagree with the order. "Let me go first," I suggest.

The kitsune stops, half turning to look at me through her mask. "Why?" There's no hostility or arrogance. The question is as pure as it is simple.

If only Rin and I had managed such a simple dialogue. Biting the edge of my tongue, killing all those thoughts with the needle of pain, I face the fox, Saki. "If there are any men like me it will be better if I'm ahead of you."

She gets what I mean quickly. "Would men hunting rumors come during winter?"

"If I knew how light this winter would be," I say, brushing my short and ice free beard, "I would have."

The haft of her spears taps against the back of her shoulder. She looks to the smoke still rising, then back to me. "Then I'll be as your shadow. The villagers won't notice me, but anyone half as strange as you will."

With no interest in being offended by such a plainly spoken comment, I walk past the kitsune. I don't rush down the mountain. There's no point in wasting my strength in the cold. Yet I have the urge, especially when I can feel Saki looming behind me. The hairs on my neck stand up and my heart races with a need to look behind me. Fingering the pommel of my sword, I push into the wintry woods at the bottom of the mountain.

---

Ice and snow crunch underneath my boots as I emerge from the woods. I catch my first glimpse of the village and its frozen fields. My gut tightens, the breath in my throat halting for a pained heartbeat.

Two huts are no more than burning ruins, and a third billows smoke from flames gnawing at the still standing roof. I don't remember which hut belongs to which family, but the only hint of flames I see are on this side of the river, none of homes across the river look to be in danger. The farthest smoldering building from me billows red and gray smoke, but I don't think it's the same one owned by the village elders. I hope it isn't. As I get closer, gaining speed with every step, I see not a single person trying to quench the fires, or huddling in safety on the other side of the iced over river. There's no one out at all. Eyes snapping around, I spot tracks in snow and ice, both new and old. While I can see many fresh paths weaving out toward the river, I spare them little attention and dash across the icy ground toward the fire. The treachery of the dirty, packed snow of the trail doesn't slow me at all, the footing more forgiving than on a ship in a storm.

A thundering crack rattles in my ears and chest, the burning building's roof collapsing inward a breath later. Embers and ash swirl upward, chased by raging flames that angrily belch black smoke. I slow to a walk, anything I could have done snatched away in an instant.

Anyone inside is dead or about to be. My fist tightens on the pommel of my sword. Burning to death is a bad way to die, one of the worst I have ever seen. If I hadn't slowed Saki down, could she have gotten here in time to stop this? If I had run as soon as I got to the woods, would we have made it in time?

I spit at those second guessing thoughts, disgusted at myself for feeling regret while a fire rages and the mystery of no one fighting the blaze still stands. Approaching the burning building, I keep my senses open. Saki keeps shadowing me, making the hairs all over my body bristle, but it's nothing compared to the fury in my chest. If I catch whoever did this they will beg for me to kill them.

I get as close to the burning building as I can, soot and ash starting to drift and stain the surrounding snow. The doorway is gone, replaced by leaping flames obscuring everything but the inferno within. A wall of heat stops me from walking closer, my feet planted firmly as I take in the situation.

"There was a fight," Saki declares, her shape melding into the edge of my vision.

Looking to where she stands, I see the marks on the ground, just ahead of her. The heat is melting the ice, thinning the marks, but farther down where the ice is firm, the strange trail doesn't lie. Someone or something got dragged, wiping away the details of footprints in the snow and ice.

"Look for survivors in the other buildings," Saki says, following the tracks with deft steps. "Take no chances. Don't come to me unless I call your name."

"Go," I nod. "I'm no stranger to carnage"

She dashes across the snow and ice, her tails whipping with her long steps. I did hold her back, I darkly muse. Drawing my sword to stop those thoughts, I set out, wary of stepping on any useful tracks or stumbling into a trap. I've lived through too many fights to not move carefully. Bandits could have struck. A fight in the village could have broken out, hidden grudges boiling over. I don't know what lies in wait or who might be around any corner or door.

I start on the side of the village closest to the path that leads up the mountain, circling the intact hut before I stop in front of the planks propped up as a door. "Anyone inside?" I call out as calmly as I can. "It's me, Egil, the giant of a foreigner. The kitsune and I are here, it's safe now."

Only the wind answers me.

"I'm coming in," I announce, keeping my voice friendly. I'm not as kind to the door, gripping the crude rope in the center and lifting harshly with my weak shield arm. Surging inside, lifting the door above me and keeping the sword point ready to thrust or slice, I cast my eyes about the one-room hut. No one stands to greet or attack me. Not even up in the beams of the ceiling, though someone small could hide behind the supplies up there.

Placing the door down, I step all the way in, wary of anything dropping on me. The rough hearth is cool, but the ashes I stir with my sword hint at a fire in the last day. Nothing has been tossed or turned, valuable metal tools still hang on the walls, and poking into baskets and pots I see their food stores are fine. But two things bother me. Thin, fresh scratches on the door frame and the messy, scattered sleeping piles. I doubt these people got up willingly.

With nothing else I can search, I pick up the door to put it back, only to notice the scratches on the side that had been facing inward. Too wide to be cuts from a weapon, too unevenly spaced and shallow to be a bear. Seeing the rope on that side makes my blood cold. The cord is weather beaten, rough, and fraying. Like it had been facing the wind and rain for many seasons and someone put it back up wrong.

I rush out, not bothering to put the door back up. The nearest hut I circle, announce myself, and barge in. The insides show me the same as the first, a single room with the only disturbance the sleeping piles tossed out. This time the door isn't scratched. I hurry to third, and find signs of a struggle within, a wooden rake broken into pieces and scraps of clothes left behind. No blood, even on the ripped clothes, which I feel some hope over. The missing people could be alive.

Walking out, my breath ragged and heart hammering from a roiling unease, I take a moment to rest and think. As I ponder what happened, I spot Saki at the river's edge. She's prodding the water with the butt of her spear, but if she's not calling out to me, I'm not going to question her ways. We each have our own methods, and we each are extending a lot of trust to one another. If she won't interfere in mine I have no cause to interfere in hers.

Once I've caught my breath and looked once more at the burning hut to make sure no stray embers have spread to other buildings, I get back to searching.

I search two more huts and find more obvious signs of struggles in both. Tipped over baskets, spilled food, tools knocked off the walls. These people tried to fight back but were overpowered. By what I don't know, so I go to the last intact on this side of the river, keeping my distance from the flames. My boots plod over ice and through snow of a field, cutting a new path to avoid the tracks I follow. More signs of something being dragged, and interestingly signs of fighting outside the door. Boots stomped and thrashed before someone fell onto the ground.

Why did the huts closer to the forest show no signs of struggle, but these ones do? Running my fingers over snow and ice, the give telling me they're fresh, I worry there might not be any living villagers. Even if there's no blood, this was planned. Whoever attacked knew what they were doing and probably had a lot of help, hitting the village all at once.

Wiping ice and ash from my sword with my sleeve, I stalk toward the bridge. Saki is on the other side already, pacing about on the riverbank. I cross the bridge, the wooden planks creaking under my boots, and she makes her way to me. At the end of the bridge we meet, the kitsune's gaze sweeping around. "What have you found?"

"The villagers were forced out. A few tried to fight back but were beaten down, then dragged to cover tracks. No blood, so I doubt this was bandits." My eyes drift toward the hut that still burns. "Or it was a lot of bandits and they hid the bodies."

"There's been no blood on in the snow," Saki says, following my gaze. Her grip tightens on her spear as the flames flare for a fleeting moment on the hut we saw collapse. "All the tracks end at the river," she says. "Even on this side."

"Did you check the huts?"

"Not yet," she says, turning her masked gaze to me. "I'll take that side," she points to the farthest reaches of the village, near the edge of the forest. "We'll meet in the middle."

I nod. "I'll shout if I find anyone."

"As will I."

She dashes off, so I don't waste a breath waiting around. The motions of entering a hut are the same as ever. Circle outside, check for tracks, then announce myself. With my heart pounding in my ears and body tense at the thought that there will be an attack this time, I enter my first hut. Broken pottery, shredded baskets, and the first hint of blood assail my senses. The smell is faint in the winter air, but unmistakable. The stains on the dirt floor and the wooden platform in the back smell of cold, coppery death. No one can lose that much blood and survive. Poking around the walls, I find a basket with the strongest stench. Lifting the woven lid makes me gag. Within are bones, too many bones, grisly red and chewed down to white in spots. The sight of a skull cracked opened and emptied like an egg lets loose the dam of terror in me.

I don't realize I've got my knife in my shield hand until my back hits a wall. I breathe out my mouth in hazy wisps, heart hammering and knifepoint quivering. It's hot. Horribly hot, as bad as the wretched jungles. My neck is wet with sweat and my eyes can hardly focus as I stumble outside, tormenting memories panting in my face and tearing at my chest.

I don't think as I toss my knife aside and pick up a fistful of snow. Cold stings my fingers and saps my breath when I slap the snow into my face. Next thing I know I'm leaning on a wall, fighting to keep my lungs from gasping. The heat boiling in me dulls as I force myself to breathe as I was taught. The mornings of recent practice guide me, my body falling back on routine as a tremble passes through me. I can smell the hot jungle, the stench of bloodied fur, and if I close my eyes I can see the teeth. But it's not here, it's not now. I killed that tiger headed beast. I ripped out it's throat and mashed it's brains and skull into the mud.

I tell myself, over and over, that it's dead. Until the worst of it passes. I can breathe again, mostly. The deliberate, calm lungfuls slow my shaking and sharpen my thoughts.

Man-eater. A man-eater hit this village. And I'm losing my nerve like a soft, merchant's whelp who just saw his first battle. I won't survive like this. I won't be able to kill the wretched beast if I lose myself to terror now.

Fear turns to anger the more I gasp in lungfuls of cold winter wind. The heat of terror melds into a sustaining fury. If there is a man-eater I will kill it. I have to kill it. Then I'll let myself shake and shatter, but not a moment sooner. First I find it, then I kill it. Then I collapse. I repeat it until the terror can't win against my rage.

Pushing myself off the wall, staggering like a man deep in his drink, I force myself to stay upright. Then plod to where I dropped my knife and scoop it up. Snow wipes away easily, even if the sight of gnawed bones and ragged flesh stays firmly in my mind, trying to blind me to the blade in my hand. Lingering memories that span far beyond the hot jungle fall upon me. Other villages, in flames or mourning, dead piled in pits and screams of pain, come and go. Until I'm back to myself, and can see the bright glint of steel in my hand.

Looking around, I see Saki stab her spear into the ground and enter another building. Remembering my task, it finally dawns on me. There will be no villagers to find. Not alive. Not if the man-eater had the time to put away the remains of a kill like that. This one, it's not a savage beast. It's cunning, smart, and I doubt it's alone.

Unfortunately for it I am savage, cunning, and not alone. I ignore the other huts and dash to the one Saki entered. Only when I'm close enough to see her moving within do I dare to speak. "Saki," I hiss, remembering too late to call her as she asked, but knowing it doesn't matter. "Come."

Her half-masked face pokes out into the light. There's no hesitation in her movements. She sees me, steps out, snatches her spear, and runs by my side as I take her to see the grisly sight I found. No questions or admonishments for ignoring her words, only action.

She enters the hut with the bones while I stay outside, my eyes sweeping back and forth for any hint of danger. Once she emerges, her ears pulled tight against her skull, I don't let her say a word. My mouth opens to a rambling explanation of what I know of man-eaters that could do something like this. I don't hear my own words, my memories and thoughts and voice too jumbled together. But the kitsune seems to understand. I tell her how the clever man-eaters are the most dangerous, that I've heard of some that can steal the skin of their victims to pretend to be them but have never seen one for myself. That there might have been a group of man-eaters striking the village all at once, or only a handful in a larger group that attacked so fast and silently the village didn't know what hit them. And finally, I tell her that from the scent of breath alone, I can tell whether anything has eaten the flesh of men.

As I speak, flashes of the past assail me. Villagers begging for my help. Children with parents stolen away. Fathers and mothers, grieving over small mounds of dirt and stone that entomb what little we could find of their child. Teeth, gnashing and snapping for my blood, claws in my skin and flesh.

I shut my mouth, swallowing back against a vicious churning in my empty stomach, the world spinning and shaking worse than any ship. If I'd eaten anything this morning it would be spewing onto the ice right now. I bend over, grab my knees, and try not to dry heave. I do all I can to scrape together my wits. To put myself back into the now, where there is a problem that can be fixed.

Saki leaves me to collect myself, only moving to block the wind. She's on my side, I tell myself. That thought helps rally me into a measure of self-control. Once I'm back up and don't sway, Saki speaks. "Rest a moment more, Egil. I will search the last huts."

She doesn't give me a chance to argue, planting her spear and rushing away. I glare at her, wondering if she's learned more about the village than me. It's only a feeling in my sick gut. These kitsune always have something to hide. Or maybe I'm needlessly suspicious of Saki.

In and out of buildings she darts, bouncing tails trailing behind her. There's no step or motion wasted. She kicks down a door, rushes in with the same step, and four breathes later she dashes back out. I watch and wonder if that's what we should have done upon finding the village in its current state, the second thoughts clawing me harshly. I breathe in the wind and watch, focus on my one ally check each hut.

Once Saki has checked every last peasant hut she dashes back to me, her wispy breath heavy. "No one," she says. "Only one home with signs of a fight but there was no blood."

"What else haven't you told me?" I demand, knowing I'm putting our trust in one another at risk.

Her angry mask glares down at me, the red markings twisted as if in fury. But her voice is quiet and reserved, at odds with her visage. "There were kappa tracks at the river."

Those wretched turtle beasts. My mouth twists in rage, at odds with my even voice. "I doubt a kappa beak ate that villager."

"That was no kappa," she agrees. "Nor oni. They enjoy bones."

Oni sound worse than I feared. But I have to focus on the village, not what is on the mountain path, even if I can hear my heart hammer in my jaw. "It had to have fangs to leave gouges like that," I say, the sight disgustingly fresh in my mind. "But weak jaws, barely stronger than a man. It's going to be smaller than me."

"If there is only one."

I nod, the kitsune surely thinking similar thoughts to me. The heat in my neck and chest is back, but the chilly wind helps keep me upright. "Man-eaters gorge when they eat, it couldn't be more than three in that hut."

"This will be too much for only two of us." Saki turns her back to me, her tails obscuring her as she faces the path to the woods we came from. "Can you make it back up the mountain on your own?"

Anger bubbles in my veins. "And leave you alone to fight whatever did this?"

"The man-eater, as you call it, will be hiding," she says, voice colder than the wind. "But the kappa will know. I told them to stay away and they didn't listen to me." Her spear snaps out of the earth, whistling and the tassels dancing as she brings it to rest against her shoulder. "I'll get answers from them. You go tell Rin I need Hibiki and Kumiko."

I plant my feet, refusing to move. "I won't leave you to hunt alone."

She looks over her shoulder. "This village is my duty," she says, eyes of her mask darkening into black pits. "To protect it or avenge it."

My fingers squeeze painfully on the cold hilt of my naked sword. I glare at the kitsune and she returns it. "You think the villagers were taken into the river, don't you?" I ask, forcefully.

She looks away. "Yes."

"The villagers wouldn't survive that cold river for long."

"No," she says, voice empty of emotions. Her tightening grip on the spear tells me much more.

"If you knew they wouldn't survive getting dragged into the river why wouldn't you call for me?"

"I had hoped not everyone had been taken!" she snaps, her resolve crumbling under anger. She breathes deeply, a sad calm settling over her a moment later. "I clung to the hope someone hid."

With my thoughts on the man-eater, I struggle to extend any compassion. I do stay my tongue from being too sharp, but little else. "You know where the kappa are," I press. "We go there and get answers. Kill them if they're man-eaters."

Saki pulls something out of a sleeve, holding it toward me as if expecting I'll take it. "Go up the mountain and show this to whoever you meet. Get my sisters Hibiki and Kumiko," she commands. "With them I can hunt every last part of this forest."

I take a look at her hands. A folded paper talisman, blue as the sky, is nestled between her furred fingers. I stare up at the side of her mask. "Leave me down here, I can find the man-eater," I demand, without a plan but burning with confidence. "You can climb that mountain faster than me if you need their help."

Fox tails sway with the wind. "I fear if I go up the mountain you will be dead when I return with my sisters." She turns to face me fully, pulling up her mask so she can face me with desperate brown eyes. "I do not doubt you could find the man-eater, even kill it, yet there may be a villager alive. Or held hostage by kappa. Taro, at the least, should survive the cold water."

The boy. He was part kappa, perhaps he might have survived winter waters with that ancestry. A darker thought about his heritage finds its way into my head. That the boy might have been involved with another man-eater. I won't speak it, not when I can't be certain. But it's a focus, another idea to keep myself from falling into scattered memories of terror and rambling. I wipe my sword before sheathing it, feigning to think about what to say.

Saki is going to be as stubborn as me, I can feel it. "Is there no other way to summon your sisters?" I ask, staring defiantly at the kitsune.

"There is." Her tails move with the wind, while she stays still as stone. Clearly testing me. When I don't snap or lash out with my tongue, she continues. "I won't do it. Whatever did this would know I am on the hunt if I burn my talisman."

I wave to the three smoldering buildings on the other side of the river. "They wanted you or your sisters here. Why else would they burn three huts?" Her feet shift, and I suspect she wanted to ignore that possibility. "Burning yours would give them exactly what they want. We can use that."

I risk a step toward the kitsune, making it clear I'm not going to be left behind on a hunt.

Saki tilts her head down, hiding her mouth from me so the black pits of her mask can try to intimidate me. "You're exhausted and not thinking clearly," she whispers.

She's right, I am exhausted. If I sit down I might collapse, but with what roils in my gut and chest I could keep going in fighting shape until the next dawn. I've been through enough danger to know the limits of my body, even when I am hardly in control of myself. But I am still in control of my will, even if she doesn't see it. Meeting the black gaze, I say, "Burn your trinket so you and I go after the kappa. Because if I go up that mountain," I pat my sword, "I can't promise I won't go after Kenta."

I can see it in her trembling ears, the war of duty waging inside of Saki. Right now I don't care what wins out. Either way I will have a chance to stop one of the man-eaters plaguing these lands, and my weak mind. With any luck, its death will ease my nightmares or send me on my way to see ancestors who will call me a stupid fool.

The kitsune gives in, her ears flattening dangerously. She pulls back her talisman. "Get a fire started in that hut," she says, pointing to a building. "There's wood inside. We'll leave after a proper rest."

"We should go now," I argue.

"If we're going to walk into a possible trap," she utters, standing tall, "we need to prepare as well."

Rolling my jaw, knowing I can't argue with her reasoning, I set off toward the hut without another word.

---

I stare at the hearth, the act of lighting the flame and sitting down a haze. My heart thumping loudly in my ears and feeding the flames in the hearth is my entire world until Saki comes in, putting the door up behind her to keep the cold out. I neglected to do that, I realize, a tremble coursing through my weak arm. She carries two pots packed with snow in one hand, telling me we're going to be here longer than I want. She leans her spear by the door, takes off her sword, and comes over to hang the pots over the fire. Then she's off, lifting her half-mask and rummaging through the food stores of the hut.

I start to protest, but the weakness that's settled into my bones stops me. Even Saki moves sluggishly, to my surprise. If we're going to face kappa and man-eaters then it makes sense to regain some of our strength. But it doesn't sit well with me, waiting around while a man-eater is out there. The snow melts quickly thanks to the hearth's flames and Saki using a blue flame at the tip of two of her tails, but the water doesn't begin to boil for a long time. We both stare at it in silence, willing it to roil and bubble without speaking a word to one another. Our unyielding glares are rewarded with a slow simmer, the kitsune hastily adding grain in. Soon, Saki serves a half-cooked porridge, the meal edible but tough. She's feeling the rush as much as I am. Every moment wasted could be another dead villager, but my suggestion that this could be a trap weighs on us both.

Halfway through my bowl I have to stop eating, thoughts of those bloody bones and cracked skull causing my throat to tighten. I set my bowl aside and cover my mouth, trying to block out any smell or memory. Saki picks up my bowl and finishes it for me, but doesn't question why I stopped.

She eats quickly and without any interest in enjoying food. A mirror of myself on the road, where the food is a means to an end and nothing else. "I have a request you will hate," she says, setting the empty bowl down.

"Speak your mind. I've been speaking mine," I point out.

She nods, brown eyes not so cold when they settle on me. It seems we're starting to understand each other. "I want you to run back to the village if there is a fight."

"You're right," I say, standing up on stiff legs. "I do hate that."

"Please consider it," she says, rising to a hunched stance, her ears touching the beams.

"You know I'm stubborn," I warn. "Especially with man-eaters."

"That is why I asked now, and not later," she says, our eyes level thanks to the both of us needing to hunch over. "But," she continues, "it is a request. What I must insist on is that I do the talking with the kappa."

I nod, not wanting to commit to anything. I should be able to leave the talking to her, assuming I can keep from killing the turtle beasts on sight. I'm furious, but with rest and food, I'm more in control of myself. And, I hate to admit it, I'm starting to think with a clearer head. The rest helped more than I thought it would, even if it might have cost some lives.

Sensing that she won't get a promise out of me, Saki goes to the door, opens it, but doesn't go outside. She brings the door in, flicks out one of her weird knives, and starts carving marks in the wood that normally faces outside. Letters of this land, I realize. Likely a message for her sisters when they get here, something short and rough. Once it's done, she replaces the door, vanishes the knife into her sleeve and faces toward me.

She pulls the brilliant blue talisman out of her other sleeve and flicks it into the fire. Right away, blue smoke billows out, wafting up and forcing me to cover my nose from the strange, flowery scent. She moves toward the door and I follow, glad that our short rest is over. She pulls her mask back down, returning her sword to her sash and opening the door before grabbing her spear. We duck out of the hut, both of us too tall for the door, and make our way through the village in the mid-afternoon light.

If I'm stubborn, she's decisive and cold. But that's what we need. A fool with a sword and a dangerous kitsune with a spear, hunting for whatever took or killed this village.

We leave once the blue smoke drifts high in the air, overtaking the thin remains of red smoke billowing from the smoldering hut. Saki chooses to move quickly, but not quite run. After our rest, she must not want to squander our new vigor.

Scatterings of pines with green nettles and twisting trees with barren branches flick past. The kitsune is always several steps ahead of me, and I try to keep her in my sight while also observing the ever changing surroundings and sounds. The river, the trees, the rattle of branches in the wind, any hints of tracks. There's no time to talk even if I wanted to. It takes all I have to keep up and search for danger. We travel for a long time, Saki only slowing when the trail is rough or when she thinks I need to catch my breath.

The path grows steeper and rockier. Saki slows, but the cold and often icy rocks are familiar ground for my feet, and she has to start moving faster to keep me from overtaking her. The food and rest brought strength back to my limbs, strength I hadn't noticed, or wanted to admit, was missing. We step and dash over rises and old roots tangled around stones, following the river as the sun dips halfway behind one of the mountains, darkening the sky and casting a long dusk. A small stream that feeds into it comes into sight, and Saki eases to a stop behind several boulders.

She points up the stream, away from the river. "There is a waterfall hiding a cave," she whispers. "The kappa nest there in the winter."

"How many kappa are there?"

"At least ten." Her fingers rub the haft of her spear. "If they work with their distant kin, twenty. Maybe thirty."

I copy her and start rubbing my sword's hilt, trying to coax the warmth back into it. Ten kappa apiece seems likely. "Do you think they have villagers?" I ask, keeping an eye on the river.

"One of them will know what happened."

"Do we ask nicely or scare them?"

"Nicely," she says. "Cruelly if they won't talk."

I can do cruelly. Those turtle beasts don't deserve any mercy. "And if I smell a man-eater among them?"

She considers that for a moment. "Warn me somehow."

"I can do that," I mutter, testing the draw on my sword. Good thing I did, as it doesn't come free as smoothly as I'd hoped. Damned ice must have gotten in the sheathe.

She stares harshly down at me. "Remember what I asked. Run to the village if they fight."

"I'll let you do the talking," I answer.

It doesn't please her, not one bit. The cold glare she gives me doesn't sway me, however. I stood in defiance of her eldest sister, and even if I regret how it went this morning I would do it again. What hope does Saki think she has of changing my mind?

She must realize that I won't relent. "Don't do anything unless they attack. If you can, spill the water in their skull bowl, it robs their strength," she instructs before setting off.

I knew about the water. It was a topic of conversation between Rin and I when I told her about my first encounter. The nine-tail told me they gain abnormal strength by carrying the water of their river in their misshapen skulls. Making them strong enough to lift and throw a man, or wrestle on even ground with someone of my size. And of course Rin laughed into her sleeve when I asked if steel worked on the turtle beasts, mirth in her eyes as she told me that I'd proven that to be the case.

My steps falter as I realize my thoughts strayed to the nine-tail, again. I suddenly wish I hadn't left my pendant in my belt. The rune of the one-handed god had no use with her, but when I'm walking into what is almost certain to be a fight, I wouldn't mind having it to run my thumb over. If nothing else, maybe I could focus on victory instead of the confounding kitsune.

---

Two hundred paces later and with the sky a darkening orange, we make it to a waterfall with a large pool below. Water crashes down despite the cold, layers of ice coating the cliff that must be at least three times my height. I can see the cave Saki mentioned even from our vantage on boulders at the edge of the clearing. There's a rocky, mostly flat path that leads to it, but we'd have to one at a time and all but hug the cliff to get inside. Perfect for anything lurking in the icy waters to grab our ankles and drag us under.

"Wait three steps from the shore, well outside my spear range," Saki commands, hopping off the boulder and walking to the edge of the pool.

I'm slower, having to slide and scrabble down, but I make it to the ground without falling or tripping. Once I've taken a position near the mouth of the stream, the kitsune taps the butt of her spear against a rock.

"Wretched turtles!" she shouts. "Do not ignore me! I know you watch."

She hits the rock again. The sound rings through the area and in my ears. When it fades into silence and the soft rustling of wind, the eight-tail flips her spear around to hold it at the ready. A shadow lurks beneath the water, creeping toward the surface until a miserable green head pokes out. Far out of Saki's range. When the kappa's beak-like mouth pops above the water it shouts in a screechy voice. "Turtles! Insults hurt your master's honor, Akaiyari."

"My master," she snarls, making my blood thrum in my head, "bade me to kill you all if you touched the village."

"Don't threaten," the kappa scowls. "We left peasants to their dirt."

Saki tilts her head. "That's not what the tracks along the village's riverside told me."

"Lies!" shrieks the kappa, splashing angrily. "We leave village alone."

Flicking her wrist, Saki plants her spear in dirt. At the same time I see her drop one of her nasty, hooked knives into her palm. The kappa is completely oblivious to her change in weapons, and reach. "Then tell your leader to stop hiding in the water. I will not argue with an underling."

The beady eyes of the creature dart from Saki, to me, and then back to her. I don't think it's the one that set my arm, this one looks far uglier, greasy strands of black hair sticking to its misshapen skull.

"Do not test my patience," the kitsune menaces.

The kappa dives beneath the surface. I risk a questioning look toward Saki, wondering what her plan is. She only has eyes for the water. When I notice more dark shapes beneath the surface, my attention snaps to the rippling pool. Seven heads pop out, near the waterfall and far away from us, every last one misshapen and sickly looking because of the water filled depression at the top of their skull. The one in the middle is the biggest and ugliest, its face viciously feral and its eyes the orange of rust stains. I notice it has thick, overlapping scales instead of slimy skin.

"Akaiyari," it grumbles, "why are you here?"

"Show me respect and come on land, kappa," the kitsune demands.

Resting my hands on my belt, I ready myself for a fight as the kappa swim closer. They stay clear of Saki and emerge on the rocky ground near the cliff. The big one with orange eyes towers above its kin, standing as tall as an adult of this land, and a full head and half above the next tallest. Strange, claw-like protrusions jut out from its knees, making me think it's more than a kappa. The group waddles forward while keeping their heads still, giving their steps an unsettling rhythm. They stop at what they must believe is the edge of Saki's range, but I can tell that she could get any of them with that spear of hers should she lift it. And the knife in her hand, should she throw it.

"Here we are," the leader declares, waving its arms and sneering. "Are you here to threaten us again, Akaiyari? Or will you talk like a neighbor?"

Saki, keeping her wicked blade hidden, faces the unusual kappa. "Where are the other three?"

The big one shifts on its webbed feet, looking around. "They must be sleeping."

"Bring everyone you have here," Saki orders.

Stomping its foot, the scaled kappa opens it beak to complain, "What-"

Saki's hidden knife whistles past the kappa's face, gouging the soft spot on its cheek. When she snaps the weapon back by its silk cord, the hook jutting out from the blade slices strands of hair off another kappa.

Holding a hand to its injured face, the orange eyed kappa shuts its stunned beak of a mouth. Emotions contort its disgusting face, mostly rage, but instead of complaining it smacks one of its companions in the head. The smaller kappa reels, head flowing with the blow and not losing a drop of water from its misshapen skull. I know from my fight on land with one, long before I came to this mountain, that their balance is mighty as an oak, and their strength enough to threaten me. I learned that my height and strength can solve that by simply picking them up, but that's in a one on one situation. A group will be trickier; I'll have to avoid getting surrounded and hope I can scare them with brutality. My thoughts of how to fight the kappa don't last as I hear their big leader grumble, "Get the others."

As the smaller kappa dives into the water, Saki coils the cord of her connected knives. I cannot believe that's her surprise weapon if she's showing it now. The kitsune strikes me as too seasoned for that. "He had better bring all of them," she warns.

"I'll gut him if he doesn't," promises the turtle monster, face no better than a sneer.

While kappa and kitsune glare at each other, I keep my attention on the water. Even several steps from the rocky bank we're at risk of being attacked from our flanks, so I turn and act like I'm staring at the waterfall to keep the entire pool in my vision. Even though the anger in my veins wants to rip the kappa limb from limb until they explain themselves, I do as Saki asked and leave the talking to her. My methods would get us answers faster, but would certainly start a fight.

As we wait, I notice faint shadows flit beneath the water, near the bank of the pool. It's so faint I almost dismiss them as fish, but there wouldn't be so many fish in winter. Then a shadow creeps too close to the surface, and I make out webbed legs before it vanishes deep below. I don't hesitate or think, I snatch up a rock and hurl it with all my might. It plonks into the water ahead of where one of those shadows should have been.

All attention shifts toward me, the kappa all straining their necks to look at me while Saki's ears twist back toward me. I glance back, but splashing breaks my focus. Kappa heads pop out of the water, then nearly twenty of the horrible things surge out onto land all at once. From where Saki stands to the mouth of the stream, a small horde of kappa charge ashore. Ten of them rush her, the ones already on land fan out to surround her, but that's all I see of her situation. I've got at least eight of them coming at me, their open palms held out in front of them as if to grab or slap me.

They may be the size of older children, but they're strong and have maddening balance; one well placed blow from those webbed hands will take my legs out from under me. I back up quickly, sword and knife quietly snapping out of their sheathes as I do all I can to avoid getting surrounded. Only two are toward the river mouth, making me dash that way, putting more distance between myself and Saki.

One of the kappa charging me freezes, the sight of my family's sword contorting its face in terror. We lock eyes and I know, in a moment that drags on for far too long, that it's the same one that set my arm. The one that saw me kill its man-eater friend. It turns tail, putting its shelled back to me, leaving only seven for me to worry about. That small victory is short lived as the nearest, and most bold, jumps at me with outstretched claws.

Only to get my knife in its chest. The shock staggers me, but I keep my footing and throw the thrashing turtle aside, knife slipping out of my grasp. A second rushes me, this one from the mouth of the river as well, but I have enough balance back to kick it in the face. The shrieking turtle goes quiet, stumbling over itself, the fury of its charge and strength of my leg rattling its skull.

I recover, putting more space between me and the encroaching kappa. Then the stench hits me. Sickly sweet rot, so cloying it makes my stomach froth even as battle beats in my veins. Man-eaters. They're man-eaters.

I roar a battle cry and rush at the creatures, shocking their charge with one of my own. I don't let them fan out and hit them where they are the fewest. Steel whistles and blood spills, my boot stomping bones against rocks. One kappa reels from the gash that took both its eyes, as the one whose foot I crushed bites and claws at my thick clothes in agony. I jab my fingers deep into its eyes, hate filling my weakened sinews with enough strength to lift the kicking and screaming beast by its gouged out eyes. It flails, hands and feet trying to find any purchase on me, but that stops when my blade bites through flesh and bone. The strain on my shield arm lessens as the body drops.

I hurl the severed kappa head at one that's now turning to run, hitting it in the back of the skull as it waddles away from me. That trips it up, and my eyes snap to the two rushing me on separate sides. My knife still in the chest of the first kappa to attack, I keep on guard, watching with the edges of my vision so neither can catch me from behind. Only for the two kappa to stop, snatch up stones, and start hurling them at me, clearly having learned from their headless companion's tragedy.

With their strength, a stone might as well be hurled from a sling. One hit to the head and I'll be dazed long enough for them to knock me over. From there it will be claws and snapping beaks until I'm their feast.

Throwing my shield arm up to protect my head from the rain of rocks, I crouch to become a smaller target and look around in desperation for another improvised weapon. Nothing stands out, only more stones. With the kappa I kicked starting to recover, I grind my teeth and run forward, sword held close. The kappa won't let me get near, the pair scooping up an armful of stones each and lobbing them while backing up.

The one I kicked in the beak isn't back in the fight yet. Blood dripping from its beak of a mouth, it looks up at me as I charge. Rage twists its face. The beast lunges at me, moving faster than I anticipated, and strikes at my leg with a wide slap. Clothes rip and my leg gets knocked out from under me, but my sword strikes true and gores its throat. I land on a knee as rocks continue to pelt me, shielding myself as best I can. A small stone skips against my scalp, rattling my teeth but not hard enough to stun me. I switch hands for my sword and grab the gargling turtle beast in front of me by a leg. I lurch up with a roar, whipping up the turtle beast like it's a sack of grain.

The rocks stop for a moment, the absurdity of my rage catching the other kappa off guard. Muscles burning, I spin and hurl the dying thing, nearly falling on my face once it's out of my hand. It careens into one of the rock throwers, and they both go tumbling limb over limb, leaving a trail of blood over the rocks and ice.

I descend on the last one with a scream. Thinking quickly, it drops its rocks and crouches for a jump. I'm on it before it can leap, snatching its slick throat. It tries to shred my arm with its claws. Two layers of clothes save me from deep scratches, but I feel it scrape my flesh. Not for long. With the heavy iron pommel of my sword, I start bashing its face.

Over and over I pummel iron against flesh, blood flying and green skin tearing as we both scream and thrash. I pin it to the ground and keep beating on its head until something cracks. Its mouth flaps and snaps, the stench of man-eater spurring me to strike and smash with a furious roar. Sick crunches splatter red and pink over the rocks, and the claws trying to rip into my arm and chest spasm into stillness. I keep hitting. I have to kill it, make certain it's dead. End its miserable existence before the claws and teeth rip my flesh. Crunching and popping sounds squirm beneath my fingers as I squeeze its disgusting neck. I can't stop here. The still limbs and trickle of blood could be a trick. The sword in my shield-hand is slick with blood, but the brilliant design of the pommel and guard keep it firmly in my grasp for more and more blows.

Pain blooms in my side, knocking me over. I roll, shaking shield hand somehow keeping hold of my sword, and lurch to my knees. I blink at the dusk sky, confused as to why I'm not crushing the life out of the man-eater still, when a green blur slams into me.

I swing my sword, only for it to be knocked out of my weak arm and a shoulder slamming into my chest.

The scent of sickly sweet rot fills my nose and mouth.

Claws rake my clothes, the man-eater snapping at my throat. Terror floods my veins, my weak hand grabbing it by the wet head. My sword arm scrabbles for a weapon, fingers bumping and knocking freezing rocks. I snatch the first I can and start pounding.

It snarls and screams, webbed hands trying to get my throat.

I hit it with my rock, hook a thumb where I think there's an eye, and scream back. I use my weight, pressing against it, driving it down. I hit and hit and hit. Flesh tears, blood splattering everywhere, and it goes limp. I stop, grab its arms, and hoist it to strike anything else that will charge me.

I see only one more, screaming and thrashing around on its shell of a back as it clutches its bleeding face. I smash it with the man-eater in my grasp, putting my entire body into the strike. Once sends a crack through the air. Twice splashes blood. Thrice and I collapse, panting and shaking. I can't let myself stay still, shuffling and hurrying toward a glint of familiar steel.

The weapon is sticky and stained red with gore, but I gladly grab my sword and get my back to a boulder, putting the rock to my back for the safe feeling of something solid. Seven kappa lay dead, even the one with my knife in its chest.

I pant, searching for more attackers. Then I see it.

A whirl of tails and steel. A kitsune in black - Saki, I dimly remember - is whirling and slashing at kappa with her sword. Many lay dead, but five of them and the larger scaled one still stand, their scaly leader somehow wielding her spear. It uses the reach to keep her at bay while others pelt rocks. Her sword flicks and whirls, batting aside clumsy thrusts and jabs, while she bobs and weaves. A rock bounces off her half-mask while a few hit the fluff of her swirling tails, but some find her chest and shoulders. She throws something back, one of the kappa reeling back and clutching an iron spike sticking out of its eye. It drops to its knees with a whimper, but the rocks from the others don't stop.

I gasp for breath, hoping the kitsune can hold on for a few more moments while I try to get my lungs to stop burning. Wary of another attack and sensitive to the smallest movement, I think I see something slip out of the cave. I squint my eyes and realize I'm right, but the shape confuses me.

A young man, long and lanky of limb, with short, shaggy hair and a savage face, crawling on all fours. He sneaks around behind the fight, Saki too busy fending off a spear and rocks to see him. I swear, for a moment, that the man's face reminds me of Taro. But this one is older than the boy by at least four or five winters. Could this be one of the villagers escaping?

My heart beats harder when I notice odd, dark patches of skin on his bare arms and neck. And his feet, which I thought were in boots, are sickly colored and webbed, walking over frozen rocks like it's nothing. That thing isn't a man at all.

I push myself off the rock, enough strength back in my limbs to be of some use. The kappa haven't noticed me and I don't want to spoil that advantage yet. All I can do is run. At the same time I set off, so does the man-thing. He bares his yellow teeth and bounds forward on all fours. I'm closer to the fight, but with the long leaps it makes, he'll reach the fight before me. Breathing so deep it hurts, I proceed to roar at the top of my lungs a warrior's challenge in the harsh tongue of my homeland. Words this land has never heard roll out, deep and hateful, my intent to turn all eyes on me.

For only a moment, the fight stops. The smaller kappa pause rocks in hand and look toward me. Blood splattered, teeth bared, sword wielding me a dozen paces away, and not the lethal kitsune they were supposed to pin. Saki's bats aside a spear thrust and her empty hand snaps out, her knife sinking point first into the big kappa's scaled neck. It ignores the wound and swipes the spear at her sword, knocking it out of her hand. The kitsune flows with the disarming strike, yanking her knife out of the kappa's neck and unwittingly putting her back to the oncoming man-thing.

The feral thing leaps on her back at the same time, his hands ripping at the fur of her thrashing tails. She pivots and lurches, trying to throw him off. Raging snarls surge from them both as she drops her cord-connected knives to try and grab the abomination clinging to her.

The uninjured kappa stare in shock as I approach, as if I'm the unbelievable monster instead of them. So be it. Two have their necks split to the bone in a single strike each, while the rest seem unsure of whether to attack me or Saki. The one with an iron dart in its eye I kick in the face, driving the spike deeper and watching as it collapses into spasms. That shocks the last three into acting. One recovers and tries to hurl stones at me while shuffling back at the same time, but it's close enough for me to lunge and chop its raised hand. A strip of skin and muscle is all that keeps the wrist attached, its beak opening to scream. My blade swipes back up, taking off its head. The other runs at me, while the big one drops its stolen spear and charges toward Saki.

I thrust, taking out one of the smaller kappa's eyes. Webbed hands snatch my sword, and it gets a long gash down its arm for the trouble. I drive my sword forward, throwing my body into an all or nothing thrust. Steel punches into its bony chest, webbed hands grasping my weapon in a death grip. It falls, clinging on and trying to drag me down.

Giving up on my weapon, for now, I turn to Saki.

Even fighting off the man-thing latched to her back and trying to rip out her tails, she's aware enough to back away from the scaled turtle. Whenever it gets close, she lashes out with a sharp kick, but the longer it goes on, the farther she moves away from me.

Fluff and fur float in the air, the man-thing making rattling sounds in his throat as he clings to her back with eerie deftness. One hand grips her clothes tightly between her shoulders, and it swings back and forth, snatching and ripping at any tails that it can kick toward itself. No matter how Saki thrashes or flails, it keeps a grip on her, shifting its weight against anything she tries, as if knowing exactly how to counter her. The big, scaled kappa is clearly driving her toward a rock wall, hoping to pin her.

They're so focused on her twisting kicks and thrashing, I'm practically forgotten. I grab her fallen spear and run. She spots me despite her struggle with the man-thing and manages to kick the big kappa back just in time. It shuffles away, head resolute and not losing a drop of water, even when the long blade of the spear takes it in the back of the neck, punching out of its beaked mouth. I let the weapon drop with the kappa, intent on saving my only ally.

Somehow the man-thing doesn't notice my approach, its angry hands too busy ripping through her fur and keeping balance to see my fist. I smash it in the jaw hard enough to skin a knuckle. The man-thing reels, but doesn't let go. It has one of Saki's tails in its mouth, yellow teeth snapping at her fur and making her yelp.

She thrusts one of her legs out, and on only a hunch, I grab it and yank her off balance. The kitsune and man-thing crash to the rocks. She rolls forward and away, the man-thing having cushioned her fall while she drove it into the rocky ground. It's tough though, and already scrabbling on the stones when the kitsune flops forward. I put every scrap of strength I have into a kick, catching the man-thing in the gut. That sends it spinning and sputtering over the ground, end over end. Fur lingers in his mouth and hands, and he spits clumps out as it tries to right itself - a rushing kick only stunned it. I pull Saki up by her arm, and then we both descend on the man-thing.

---

It's dark when Saki and I finally beat the fight out of the man-thing. By the light of the blue flames hovering at the tip of Saki's tails, we tie him up with the silk cord that had once connected her knives. She ties him up while I hold it down, repressing my rage enough to let her work on efficient and brutal knots. Not that I care if the man-thing is in pain from the bonds or my weight. The scent of man-eater is on its breath, and only Saki's assurance that I can kill the creature once she has answers stopped me from stomping on his neck. We hadn't found any kappa that would survive the night, so I had enough sense left to listen.

"If it tries to escape," I growl to the kitsune, "I'll start cutting limbs off."

"I'll help," she says, stern mouth strained. She must be sore from having her tails and back attacked.

With the man-eater tied up, I collect wood from the edges of the forest with Saki, both of us keeping an eye on the beast. With the flames at the end of her tails she somehow lights part of the damp wood and dries the rest, giving me a fire to sit at while I clean my collected weapons and watch over the man-thing. She leaves her spear with me, and I loan her my sword. I know, without her saying anything, that she's going into the cave. My blade will serve her better in the tight space than that long sword or short knives of hers.

While the kitsune heads off, I rest. By the light of the fire, with the man-thing snarling on its gag, I do my best to keep it together. I don't know if it's the cold or the battle, but all I want to do is drink wine until my throat is filled with fire and my thoughts are a haze. Or hack off the head of the man-eater to still the shaking in the core of my belly. The man-eater, bruised and tied down in a way that bends his joints the more he struggles, stares hatefully at me.

The moon is bright in the sky when the blue light of Saki's tails emerges from the cave. From her mask in her hands and my sword sheathed in her sash, I know there's no good news. The coldness that normally lurks in her eyes is gone, weariness in its place as she sits by me at the fire, looking exhausted.

The only signs of a fight on her are patches of fur missing from her tails and a few cuts on her head matting the fur to her skull. Meanwhile, I know I'm bruised in a dozen places. The scratches on my arm weren't as deep as I feared, shallow enough I can ignore them for now and tie up the rags of my clothes. But I must look beaten down and freezing, the kitsune laying several tails against my back to share warmth. It's different than when Rin or Shizuka did it, the eight-tail and I closer than we've ever been, but as warriors. Saki doesn't sit politely and leans her elbows on her knees, looking deceptively small in the position, so I decide to leave it be. The warmth is welcome, after all.

After a while, she whispers, "I found most of them."

I stare at the flickering flames. "That bad?"

"Worse," she breathes, putting her snout in her hands. "Don't go in there, Egil."

"I'm sorry, Saki." My fingers clench the haft of her spear. "I slowed you down."

"They were drowned," she says through her fingers. "When we saw smoke they were already dead."

"Are you certain?"

She tents her fingers over her eyes, letting me see her fight between rage and grief. "I am."

I don't push her. If I did slow her down, then she can hate me if she needs to. I add a few more sticks to the fire to give her a moment before I ask the most pressing question. "Where are the rest?"

"I'm hoping that thing," she snarls, raising her snout and baring teeth at the man-thing, "will tell us what happened."

I have to turn my gaze from her, my heart beating hard at the sight of her teeth. "I could ask my runes," I offer, not wishing to trust anything a man-eater might say.

She breathes slow and deep. "I trust Rin's belief in those runes of yours. Tell me what you need and I'll prepare it."

Rin. I can't think about the nine-tail right now. I reach for my belt and take off the pouch with the carved bones. "I need a flat space and light," I say.

Saki starts clearing a patch of ground, sliding and shifting her tails as she bends and twists. Both of us keep an eye on the man-eater, but it seems to be sleeping, completely unaffected by the cold. "Here," the kitsune utters, pulling my attention to the circle she cleared.

We change spots, her tails curling above her head to bring the blue light above me. I take the runes in cold hands, mulling over what I should ask. I hadn't dared cast them while injured, uncertain if they'd heed a one handed cast. The words come to me, and I speak them clearly. "-Are the missing villagers alive?-"

Carved bones bounce and spin, my eyes darting from rune to rune. My breath leaves my lungs, and doesn't come back for far too long. I collect everything and ask a different question. "-What will happen if we search tonight?-"

The reading clicks out. The same as before. I scoop the runes up as soon as I read the spread, swallowing back a lump of anger. I have to ask once more, but the words are jumbling together in my head. I know what will happen when I throw the runes. I'd rather storm out in the woods than face that knowledge, desperately search for tracks or any sign. I know Saki would follow me. She'd probably believe me if I lied about what the runes said.

But I can't lie about this. "-Can I find them?-" I throw the bones one last time. They jump and scatter, my fingers and eyes tracing over cold dirt as I read where they fall. "We won't find them," I declare, mouth chewing over the stiff words of this land.

"Are you certain?" she presses when I lean back.

"One reading thrice repeated," I say, waving at the runes. "To three different questions. 'Two foxes will find the slaughter,' every time."

"Can't you ask again?"

"I wouldn't dare," I mutter. "Not unless I want to anger powers I don't control."

The kitsune shifts, ears twisting and turning as she stares me. Brown eyes beg for a better answer, one I don't have. "I hate magic," she whispers, turning away.

"I'm sorry," I say, knowing it's not enough.

Drawing her legs underneath her, Saki surprises me by putting her tails against me as I gather up my runes. "You did more than you ever needed to," she says while I drop runes back in their pouch. "For that I have to thank you, Egil. If..." her arms cross, a strange shadow falling over her as she stares at me. Brown eyes, ringed with wild, white fur. "If you hadn't fought, I don't know what would have happened to me."

"You knew I wasn't going to run away," I reply, looking away from her. It almost looked like there was appreciation in her gaze.

"The attack on me was planned," she continues, turning to the fire. "If I'm right, you saved me from a trap. If I'm wrong, you got that thing off me." Her teeth flash at the man-thing.

"We fought well," I say, keeping my disappointment about how late we were to myself. "There's no need to thank or apologize now that we've shed blood together."

"You have my sincere gratitude," she eventually says. "And my respect, from one warrior to another."

"You already had my respect as a warrior," I answer. "I'll do what I can to help you avenge the village."

"I will repay this debt." Brown eyes sparkle in the light of the flames, clearing when she wipes them with the back of her hand. "You did not have to help. This village is our responsibility, the last one left to us by our mother."

That explains why the village meant so much to Rin, and it leaves me wondering why the nine-tail never told me in all of our friendly conversations. Caught between two different sources of regret, I feed the fire and try to forget what I can. "We can talk tomorrow," I mutter. "We have a long night ahead."

Her openness only makes me shut her out, and she must realize it. "You're right."