The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Bureau of the Sky, two moons ago:

Through the rosewood latticework that framed her door, Aurelia could hear the clerks’ voices. She knew that if she glanced up, she’d see the backs of her crane maiden lieutenants seated on either side of her office just outside the door and, beyond them, the row upon row of desks that filled the great hall. Even though it was well past suppertime, everyone was still hard at work.

“The gardeners report that the chrysanthemums have passed their peak, as we are halfway through the Chrysanthemum Moon. They ask permission to pull them up next week – ”

“Approved. Tell them to prepare the evergreens – ”

“Here’s the report from the Sunset Weavers, ma’am. They apologize that the sky today was less inspired than usual and request funds to replenish their dyes – ”

“The Seventh Weaver Maiden begs special dispensation to send a missive to her husband, the Cowherd – ”

“Sir, the Somersault Cloud Weavers report that the latest batch is ready for their test flights – ”

Half-monitoring the chatter, Aurelia looked over her checklist. Now that the chrysanthemum viewings of the ninth moon were past, she’d received formal orders from the Queen Mother of the West to start planning the New Year festivities. Those would begin in two and a half moons, spanning the entirety of the Bitter Moon and extending into the Holiday Moon. Needless to say, they required significant preparation.

Most urgent on her list: The Bureau of the Sky needed to hold a calligraphy competition to identify the clerks with the finest handwriting, who would then have the honor of penning this year’s invitations. She’d have Lady Grus, the lieutenant in charge of organizing that, check in with her tomorrow morning. Aurelia made a note on her calendar, then moved on to the next task. Her other lieutenant, Lady Dan, needed to delegate one clerk to coordinate with the kitchens on the banquet menus, and a second to speak to the gardeners and housekeepers about their cleaning schedule. Oh, and Aurelia had to remind Lady Dan to draw up a list of proposed committee meeting dates and send it around before all the Stars’ schedules filled up. Last year, it had been nigh-impossible to get them into the same room at the same time, which meant that she’d been late submitting the budget estimate to Accounting –

A familiar voice outside her office jerked her back to the present. Her heart started to pound.

At the same time, two brisk raps came on her door, and Lady Dan called, “My lady, pardon the interruption, but you have a visitor.”

Years of engrained habit made Aurelia drop her brush, straighten her back, and start to rise, but she forced herself to sit back down. “Please send him in,” she called back.

The door opened, held by Lady Dan. “The Star of Heavenly Joy,” she announced.

In strode Cassius, brushing a little too close to the crane maiden for propriety, with a smile and a touch on her arm that definitely violated office protocol. Lady Dan’s eyes followed him across the room, and she hesitated too long before dipping her head to Aurelia and shutting the door again.

Pretending she hadn’t noticed, Aurelia pasted a polite smile on her lips and willed herself not to stand. Even after centuries as equals in Heaven, it still felt wrong to sit without permission in the former emperor’s presence. “My lord. Please, have a seat. What business brings you to the Bureau of the Sky today?”

Cassius dropped into a chair and studied her face. If he were inspecting it for wrinkles, he wasn’t going to find any.

“What business brings you to the office of the Star of Reflected Brightness today?” Aurelia repeated, in the pleasant, neutral tone she used on colleagues she detested.

He registered it, she could tell. “Doesn’t your title bother you?” he demanded, his voice taking on the edge it always did when he spoke to her, the one where she could never quite tell if he were attempting a bitter joke at her expense, or on her behalf, or both. “‘The Star of Reflected Brightness.’ Seems a little demeaning. Surely they could have come up with something better for a lady of your abilities.”

“Not at all,” she replied at once. “It is the title that His Heavenly Majesty the Jade Emperor bestowed upon me, my lord.” She placed the faintest stress on the last two words, knowing that the loss of his right to be addressed as “Your Imperial Majesty” still rankled.

Glowering, Cassius stood and shoved the chair away from him. Its legs screeched. “Quarta’s back. Thought you’d want to know.”

Aurelia’s breath caught. So he hadn’t come just to flaunt his relationship with Lady Dan. Her heart started to race again. “Again?”

“That’s what I just told you.”

“How…how is she doing? How was her last life?”

Cassius scowled, impatient to be off. “She’s fine. Same as always. Got eaten by a demon this time.”

“A demon?” Despite her best efforts, Aurelia’s voice rose. “She got eaten by a demon? And you say she’s fine? How can she possibly be fine if she got eaten by a demon?”

“Like I said, she’s perfectly all right. Go see for yourself if you don’t believe me.” He was halfway to the door.

“That’s what you always say!” she burst out. “You always say it’s all right to trust demons with children! ‘It’ll be fine, Aurelia.’ ‘She’s harmless, Aurelia.’ ‘She really loves children, Aurelia’ – ”

Whirling, he leaped back across the room and slammed both palms on her desk. “Silence!”

She froze, hating herself for it. Hating him.

Hating her.

For a long moment, she and Cassius glared at each other.

At last, Aurelia leaned back and asked quietly, “Is Quarta still here?”

Cassius straightened his robes and said without looking at her, “When I left, yes.” He squeezed out a helpful warning, “If you want to see her, you should hurry. The clerks there are efficient.”

“They are here too.” That came out a little too fast. Grudgingly, she added, “Thank you for letting me know.”

He shrugged, still without meeting her eyes. “I’m off. Dan’s waiting for me.”

Words rose in her throat – “Of all the goddesses in Heaven, you had to choose one of my lieutenants” – but she choked them down and let the door slam behind him.

It was just like it had been in the palace. She’d always had a good eye for which of the concubines to raise to Consorts – loyal, intelligent women with a talent for administration – and Cassius had always approved her choices in his own inimitable fashion. When she’d been deified, she’d considered petitioning to bring one of them to assist her here, but they’d seemed so happy in their new lives on Earth.

Of course, who wouldn’t be happier away from Cassius?

Without raising her voice, Aurelia addressed her lieutenant through the lattice. “Lady Dan, please arrange for a visit to the Bureau of Reincarnation. After that, you are released from your duties for the evening. Lady Grus will accompany me.”

After all, Lady Dan was ancient and presumably knew what she was doing in her choice of lovers. And Aurelia’s subordinate’s private affairs were none of her business.

Plus Cassius already assumed that everything was about him.

No need to make it true.

Despite Lady Dan’s efficiency, it was still a good half hour before Aurelia set out. All the formalities had to be observed: the gong in the great hall struck, the official litter readied, the porters summoned, the runners and criers assembled. At last, she stepped into the litter and exited the Palace of the Moon in a swarm of star sprites, with Lady Grus sitting across from her. Outside, the criers were shouting, “Make way for the Star of Reflected Brightness!”

“You’ll see her, my lady,” Lady Grus assured her, with the placid smile of a spirit who’d had millennia to learn that everything happened in its due time, or didn’t, and if it didn’t, then you simply prepared better for the next time. “Half an hour more or less makes no difference.”

Aurelia forced herself to fold her hands lightly in her lap and not to peek through the silk curtains. The clerks at the Bureau of Reincarnation were, as Cassius had said, impressive in their competence, and while she could have requested that they delay Quarta’s reincarnation, she hesitated to cross the Superintendent. Glitter would make a fearsome foe. Better to win her over gradually.

“Yes,” Aurelia replied, keeping her voice serene. “If not this time, I’ll see her next time. Goodness knows Quarta shows up here often enough.”

Lady Grus smiled again, encouragingly.

Aurelia knew when they arrived at the Hall of Vermillion Clouds by the way the litter tilted backwards. Her porters carried it up the ramp in the center of the marble stairs and set it down so gently that she barely felt a bump. Lady Grus got out first, then pulled aside the curtains and helped her out. Two rows of clerks waited to greet her, led by the Superintendent herself.

That was unfortunate.

Glitter’s severe expression made it clear that she detested unscheduled visits, particularly unscheduled visits at the end of the workday. But she stepped forward and executed an aggressively precise bow. “My lady, we are honored by your presence at the Bureau of Reincarnation. Tea and cakes have been prepared in the salon. If you would please follow me?”

She made the question sound more like a command. Aurelia approved.

With a gentle smile, she answered, “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Superintendent. If the matter weren’t urgent, I would not have troubled you.”

Glitter’s sour, puckered lips said that yes, actually, a Star would very much have troubled a star sprite whether the matter were urgent or not, and that she highly doubted this one fell into the former category. But the Superintendent escorted Aurelia into the salon, where platters of dainty pineapple shortcakes and all the accoutrements for a tea ceremony had been set up already. Only after Aurelia had received her cup (patterned with chrysanthemums, she noted automatically) and sipped could they get down to business.

“On what urgent matter may I be of assistance to the Star of Reflected Brightness?” asked Glitter in her dry, crackling voice.

“The Star of Heavenly Joy apprised me of the return of Soul Number 2398.” Aurelia saw no reason not to name Cassius, and Glitter’s face puckered up even more. “If she is still in the Bureau, I would very much like to see her.”

Glitter snapped her fingers. One of the clerks, who’d been waiting discreetly by the door, stepped forward and bowed. “Call Flicker. Tell him the Star of Reflected Brightness wants to see him.”

As he began to leave, Aurelia protested, “Surely there’s no need to summon him here in person.”

The clerk in charge of her daughter’s soul was a timid star sprite who quaked every time he had to tell her to her face that he’d already reincarnated Soul Number 2398. Or, rather, every time he had to stammer it to the floorboards at her feet. It was painful to watch and, in Aurelia’s opinion, unnecessary.

The clerk Glitter had dispatched turned back, waiting for her to confirm or withdraw the command. She waved for him to continue and informed Aurelia, “My lady, the proper courtesies must be observed, lest this Bureau fall into chaos.”

Was that a jab at Cassius – or herself? Aurelia inclined her head and took another sip of tea. “Of course.”

It wasn’t long before footsteps tapped down the hall and a clerk entered the room. One look at his hunched shoulders and panicked face and Aurelia’s heart sank.

“Flicker,” pronounced Glitter, “her ladyship the Star of Reflected Brightness is here to see Soul Number 2398.”

The clerk cringed and threw himself at Aurelia’s feet. “My lady, my deepest apologies! I already reincarnated her. Earlier today. But….” With trembling fingers, he proffered a file with the rune for “human” on its cover. “I brought her file for you – to peruse – if you’d like….”

Hiding her disappointment, Aurelia smiled down at the top of his head. “Thank you, Flicker.”

Lady Grus glided forward, took the file, and offered it to Aurelia, who opened it and hungrily read the curriculum vitae. This time, Quarta had reincarnated as Jek Maila, the child of farmers in the Claymouth Barony in Eastern Serica. Aurelia pursed her lips, displeased that Glitter had condemned the soul to a life of poverty. Still, at least Maila had had loving parents, who saw her as their precious baby daughter after a string of sons. They’d treated her well, even if they couldn’t offer her much.

Ah, well, that was something.

Maila had been a happy child with a love of sweets (Aurelia smiled, remembering) and pretty things (Aurelia remembered that too, along with a certain fox demon, less fondly) and a talent for the flute. Her parents had considered apprenticing her to a musician when she grew up.

That was new. Quarta had never shown any interest in music. Not that she’d had time to develop any, with that fox demon carrying her off to that horrible pagoda all the time. Fuming, Aurelia continued to read.

Maila had been on the mischievous side. She tagged along after her brothers to the river, got into water fights and mud fights with them, promised never to do it again – and promptly did.

That did sound like Quarta, her little Quarta. Smiling, Aurelia brushed a fingertip over the words.

Then she came to Maila’s death.

Even though the soul would have healed completely in the archives, Aurelia still couldn’t bear to imagine the little girl’s terror as the catfish demon toyed with her until he finally tired of it, and his jaws closed around her, and his teeth –

Aurelia slammed the file shut. The clerks all gasped, even Glitter.

“Let me take that, my lady,” came Lady Grus’ calm voice. Long, slender fingers, like the wingtips of a crane, started to take the file.

“Wait.” Something had caught Aurelia’s eye. She forced herself to skim the end of the curriculum vitae, her eyes shying away from the details. Yes, there it was: a footnote that said another soul, Number 11270, had died in the same demon attack. “There was a second soul there. Is it still here? Can I talk to it?”

Flicker practically balled up on the floor. “N-n-no, my lady. Th-that soul has also been reincarnated.”

“I see.” That wasn’t surprising. Disappointing, but not surprising. “If that soul returns before Number 2398 does, I would like to speak to it. And I would very much appreciate it if I had an opportunity to see Number 2398 next time.”

Flicker was quaking all over now, in anticipation of the Superintendent’s wrath.

Aurelia didn’t care. She simply looked across the remnants of the tea ceremony and met the woman’s eyes.

Glitter pursed her lips but nodded. “It will be done, my lady.”