The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Oh Great Goddess, send a sign to this unbeliever!

Soul Number 11270’s voice crackled out of Aurelia’s seal of office, which she kept on the side of her desk. Topped with a gem-encrusted phoenix, the seal was a solid gold block that measured a foot on each side. On the bottom were calligraphic runes for “Bureau of the Sky” that produced a stamp representing the bureau’s formal approval.

When Aurelia had first come up to Heaven, after her life on Earth had fallen apart and that evil fox demon had persuaded her own husband to depose and murder her, she’d been assigned to this bureau as a junior star goddess. Her new attendants, Ladies Grus and Dan, had gotten her settled into the Palace of the Hundred Stars and then taken her on a tour of her new workplace. They’d finished in this very office so she could receive an official welcome from the then-Overseer, the Eldest Weaver Maiden.

At the time, Aurelia had thought that the Seal of the Bureau of the Sky resembled a scaled-up version of the seal that she had possessed as Empress of Serica. Now she knew better: All seals on Earth were merely pale imitations of the ones in Heaven. Because the Seal of the Bureau of the Sky was far more than just a stamp or even a symbol of office.

It also functioned as a farseeing device that projected images and sounds into her mind. Technically, it was meant to allow her to supervise logistics throughout Heaven, but recently, Lady Grus had mentioned that using it to survey Heaven only was a tradition, not a restriction on the seal itself. In fact, it was a weaker version of the ones used by the Evening Star’s deputies, She Who Hears the Cries of the World and She Who Sees the Suffering of the World. Theirs allowed them to hear and see everything on Earth all at once, with perfect clarity, while Aurelia’s required her to concentrate on one specific location.

Aurelia had a feeling she knew why Lady Grus had “happened” to remember that fact, but she’d chosen not to question it. Yet.

Whenever she was alone in her office, she switched the projection to Honeysuckle Croft and watched little Taila grow up. The images and sounds were fuzzy, and the seal drained starlight out of her, exhausting her by the end of the workday and forcing her to hide it from everyone, especially Lady Dan, but it was worth it.

That was how she’d seen the confrontation between Soul Number 11270 and Mistress Jek. Long before the turtle raised its head and called on her for help, Aurelia had already dispatched a note to the Bureau of Reincarnation clerk, Flicker.

Urgent attention needed at Hon. Cr.

She’d sent it via her most trusted star child runner, and the little girl had gotten it safely to the clerk right in time for Flicker to streak down to Earth and calm things down.

Soul Number 11270 seemed particularly impudent, even for a Green Tier soul. Briefly, Aurelia wondered whether she should have waited for a different opportunity and a different soul to assign to Quarta, but then she shook her head. She’d made her choice. She’d weighed her options and gambled on this one.

Now she could only wait and watch to see how it all played out.

All right, if you’re done questioning my authority, I have changes to implement here, I informed the peasants.

“Yes, yes, Great One!” agreed Mistress Jek at once. “Anythin’, Great One!”

Mmmm, “Great One.” I did like the sound of that. All those echoes of subservience and implications of slavishness. After so many powerless centuries, it felt good.

Now, where should I start? There were just so many changes I wanted to make to Honeysuckle Croft and its inhabitants. The dirty walls, the filthy rushes, the splintery “furniture,” the open fire in the center of the room, the pig and chickens sleeping in the same space as the humans…. Oh – what was I talking about? There was one thing that had to go, right this instant. Without delay. I wouldn’t brook its continued existence.

That thing was Taila’s manners.

Or lack thereof.

It was completely unacceptable for a child to stay standing – with her hands on her hips, no less! – when her elders were facedown groveling in the dirt before an emissary and an errand boy from Heaven.

And I’d had enough of her flashing her bare legs. No one who was not a wetnurse or a nanny should have to see that much of a child’s naked legs.

How had the imperial children learned etiquette anyway? They were the only young humans I’d spent any significant amount of time around. Although I wracked my brains, all I could remember were regular lessons and constant supervision to enforce proper behavior. Cassia Prima was already a gracious young lady by the time I arrived, but the younger princes and princesses had been locked up in the nursery until they attained a minimum level of competence. And then they’d been assigned – what were they called again? – deportment instructors, to teach them how to walk and dance and greet people, how to distinguish between all the types of bows and genuflections, and so on. After all, you had to know when your social inferior was being respectful, making a genuine mistake, or very subtly mocking you.

I had no idea how to teach all of that in a systematic fashion. I’d never had a deportment instructor myself: I’d observed and mimicked people until I could pass in their social circles and, when all else failed, smoothed my way with a dose of charm. But charm, both the magical and unmagical varieties, wasn’t an option for Taila.

Meaning that she needed people to ape.

Meaning that first, I had to teach her parents and older brothers proper manners.

Looking Mistress Jek up and down, I heaved a long sigh.

All right. There are many changes I intend to implement here, but first things first. Etiquette lessons. Call the rest of your family back.

For all her talk of obedience, Mistress Jek balked at once. “But Great One, they’re plowin’…. Can’t we wait ‘til after the plowin’s done…?”

Ha. So farmers did plow during the winter. I’d guessed correctly. I spared a moment to congratulate myself on my broad knowledge of peasant activities, and then informed her, They can plow tomorrow.

“But Great One….”

I really couldn’t understand why she insisted on arguing with someone while addressing them as “Great One.” I made my voice stern. That is enough, woman. Summon your husband and sons. We begin at once, lest you incur the displeasure of Heaven.

The memory of a black-robed figure appearing and disappearing in a shower of golden sparks was still fresh in her mind. Mistress Jek prostrated herself, mumbled something I didn’t bother trying to make out, and clomped off. That awkward gait, too, was unacceptable. I had to teach her how to move swiftly yet gracefully.

If I didn’t start a list, I was going to forget things. Bobo.

The bamboo viper sprang to my side. “Yes! Rosssie! How can I help? How can I help?”

Aaaand there was another person who needed to learn proper diction.

Say: “Yes, Mistress Rosette. How may I be of assistance?” I corrected her. That sounds more elegant.

“Yes, Misss-tress Ro-sssette. How may I be of a-sssisss-tanssse?” she parroted.

Never mind, that’s even worse. Now, then. You, Bobo the Bamboo Viper Spirit, shall be my teaching assistant, I proclaimed, making it sound like an honor on par with deification.

“Okay! Okay!” Bobo contorted in excitement. Then she froze mid-twist. “What’s a teaching a-sssisss-tant?”

You will help me teach.

“Okay!”

First, I want you to get some paper and start taking notes for me.

All that perfectly reasonable request got me was a confused look. “‘Paper’? Like the ssstuff they usssed in the Empire?”

Wait, do you not have paper anymore? How can you not have paper?!

I couldn’t believe it. For hundreds of years, Sericans had produced paper for their documents and books and scrolls and paintings and interminable calligraphy competitions. They’d taken such pride in the technology! How had their descendants simply lost it?

Bobo looked even more bewildered. “Ummmm…I’ve heard of ‘paper,’ but I’ve never ssseen it. It’s one of the things people talk about when they talk about all the things we can’t make anymore. Ummm…the Baron might have parchment. Do you want me to go asssk him for sssome?”

I most definitely did not want to drag more people into this. (At least, not yet.) No. We’ll make do without. Just get a stick or use your tail and write in the dirt while I dictate.

The snake curled in on herself until she resembled a silk-knotted button. “Ummm… Ummm… I can’t write….”

What? You can’t write?

“No…. Nobody here can…”

I sighed again. That was something I should have thought of. Even during the Lang Dynasty, illiteracy had been widespread in rural Serica. I’d forgotten that because I’d spent my memorable years in the cities, where Cassius’ forebears had established elementary schools for all children to attend. Say what you will about me, but at least as prime minister, I’d continued to fund public education. (Or, to be more precise, the inertia of the Imperial bureaucracy had continued to fund it while I wreaked havoc in the court.)

But that was irrelevant. What was relevant was that I’d have to teach Taila to read and write on top of everything else.

Speaking of her, the girl had been quiet for a suspiciously long time now. When I looked around, she was back by the cottage, digging a hole in the wall with a sharp rock. She’d already exposed the woven willow branches that formed the basic framework of her home. Great.

Taila! Stop that this instant! I snapped before realizing how much I sounded like Mistress Jek.

With a pout, Taila stood, planting her feet a shoulder’s width apart. One hand moved up to scratch the back of her neck, while the other fished around in her threadbare pocket.

Taila! Stop scratching. Stand up straight this instant.

“Huh?”

And don’t say ‘huh?’ It’s vulgar.

She started to say “huh?” again but swallowed it at my glare. She didn’t stand up any straighter though. What was wrong with this child? I fumed to myself. Weren’t children supposed to obey their elders?

Although…now that I thought about it, Cassia Quarta hadn’t been that obedient either. I’d simply handed her back to her nanny when she started fussing. I spared a moment of longing for the servant whose name I’d never bothered to learn.

About that time, voices began drifting from the direction of the fields. The adult male one was complaining about “ridgin’ the soil” and “too wet” and “rot!” I didn’t know what wetness had to do with anything, but rot did sound bad.

Whatever. I just wanted one measly afternoon of Master Jek’s time. He could go back to his “ridgin’” tomorrow.

By the time the Jeks came into view, I was already facing their way and waiting. Master and Mistress Jek clomped along in front, with their sons milling at their heels. Yes, I definitely needed to teach them how to move. All of them walked as if they were stalking along, the soles of their shoes thwacking the ground with every step. And their backs and shoulders were hunched, making them resemble turtles pulling their heads into their shells. One boy was even picking his nose with a filthy pinky. Gross.

Unexpectedly, Master Jek, whom I’d assumed was subservient to his wife, was the louder of the two right now. “Wastin’ good light!” he was exclaiming, while she made soothing noises that failed to calm him. “Winter days are short!”

When they came to stop before me, she sank to her knees in a clumsy genuflection, but he stayed upright in the same spread-footed posture as Taila’s, his fists on his hips. She must have picked up that pose from both of her parents. Just another reason I needed to educate the whole family.

“What’s goin’ on?” Master Jek demanded. “Yer sayin’ this turtle was sent by the gods?”

Before anyone could protest, he stooped, pinched my shell between his thumb and forefinger, and held me up in front of his nose.

Hey! Put me down! I tried to command, but he was squeezing the breath out of me and it came out more like a squeak.

My order was seconded by Mistress Jek and Bobo’s cries of horror, but it was Taila’s wail that drowned out all of us. “Mr. Turtle! Don’t hurt Mr. Turtle!” She ran up to her father and started to climb his leg.

“You drug us away from the plowin’ for this – this prank? Yer crazy! Crazy or drunk!” Master Jek yelled at his wife. Then he turned on Bobo. “What’ve you done, spirit? Are you turnin’ my wife into a drunk too?”

“No, Master Jek!” she cried. “I’m not – we didn’t – I never – ”

Meanwhile, Taila’s brothers were clustering around to offer their expert opinions. “That looks like a pond turtle.” “Yup, that’s a pond turtle.” “Bit small, but they taste good.” “Maybe toss it back ‘til it gets bigger?” “Naw, it’s big enough to eat. Gus’s ma cooks ‘em even smaller.” “Ma says Gus’s ma is an id-yit what can’t cook.”

The shortest boy tugged on one of Taila’s pigtails. “Hey, Taila, want turtle soup tonight?”

Taila started shrieking, “No! Noooo! NOOOOOO! That’s Mr. Turtle! Mr. Turtle is my friend!” which only made her brothers laugh.

“Turtles are food, like pigs and chickens, sillyhead. They’re not friends. ‘Less they’re spirits,” the same boy informed her. “That look like a spirit to ya? Spirits are aaaaaancient. That’s just a baby. Like you. Mebe we’ll eat you too!”

Well, that brother had to be the “Nailus” who’d told her “all about spirits.” The tallest boy must be the oldest brother, who’d inherit the farm from Master Jek, and the middling-height one was probably the “Second Brother” who was maybe going to get apprenticed to the village basket maker. All three of them looked pretty weedy, and their clothing fit poorly – some articles were too baggy, some too short, and all of them were patched and worn.

My examination complete, I glared at Master Jek. Show some respect, peasant, lest Heaven strike you down where you stand. Then I craned my neck as far as I could and bit his thumb.

I didn’t do any real damage, but the nip plus my voice shocked him. With a shout, he dropped me.

Down I tumbled, towards Taila’s outstretched palms. Her brothers’ dirty hands shot out, but she got me first and cradled me to her chest.

This had turned into a farce. I didn’t even want to imagine what Aurelia thought of me right now.

Squirming, I stuck my head back out through Taila’s fingers, right in time to hear Mistress Jek bellow, “ENUFF!”