The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

“Jade Emperor in Heaven, what in the name of the Hundred Stars is that?!”

For once, the horrified yelp didn’t come from me. I did share the sentiment, though, if not the double invocation of Heavenly beings, because Taila was awful at the Dawn Dance, and Nailus worse. Even Bobo had to agree (in private) that they simply lacked the talent.

It wasn’t that the children didn’t have choreography memorized. If all they had to do was talk through the figures, they could give me a precise list, complete with the timings. They knew it all in their heads. It was the execution they failed at.

As I watched, Nailus dropped to one knee. He was then supposed to use one hand to lead Taila in a graceful circle around himself, but he forgot and let go, leaving her to flounder.

“You have to hold my hand here!” Plonking both of them on her hips, she glared at her brother.

He gritted his teeth, equally frustrated. “I know! I know!”

Grabbing her hand, he yanked her in the right direction. She nearly tripped before she realized what he was doing.

“Gods and demons, is that supposed to be a genuflexion?” gasped the same voice.

I glanced in its direction – and whisked my head into my shell.

It was the traveling mage.

Stripey and the bandits had been overly paranoid.

She hadn’t been hunting the duck demons, but a group of alleged demons. A black cat draped over her shoulders was surveying Honeysuckle Croft, its amber eyes taking in everyone and everything. A normal cat – or a cat spirit?

Good thing I’d prepared the Jeks for this.

At once, Taila dropped all the elegant manners I’d drilled into her. “It’s a maaaaaaage! Nailus! Nailus! Lookie! It’s a mage!” She ran up to Floridiana, arms outstretched. “Mistress Mage! Hi!”

Apparently, nothing Floridiana had seen in her travels had prepared her for this kind of greeting. She blinked and stepped back.

“Mornin’, Mistress Mage.” Nailus grinned a grin that was missing a few baby teeth: the very picture of an innocent, fresh-faced country boy. “How can we help you?”

“Not possessed,” Floridiana muttered to herself (or maybe to the cat?). She must have performed a magical scan of the children. Switching on a bright smile, she addressed them in a singsong, “Good morning! Where are your ma and pa? I’d like to talk to them.”

Taila puffed out her chest, acting like she was about to announce that her parents were being crowned Emperor and Empress of Serica at this very moment. “They’re plowing.”

“Cuz it’s spring,” Nailus explained with another winsome grin, obviously assuming that so lofty a personage as a mage couldn’t be expected to know anything about peasants’ lives.

“Your ma as well?” asked Floridiana.

“Uh huh. Cuz it’s extra busy right now. My job is to look after her.” He smacked Taila lightly on top of her head.

She gave an exaggerated cry and rubbed the spot until her hair frizzed out all over the place. Then she pouted at him, the traveling mage, and the cat in equal measure.

I was actually enjoying this brother-sister comedy routine, although I did spare a moment to worry about how fast they’d dropped the etiquette they’d learned. Was I going to have to retrain them all over again after Floridiana left? Maybe I should just apprentice them to the Green Frog and let the actors deal with their education.

“I…see….” The traveling mage scanned her surroundings, as if hoping that one of the adults would miraculously return early from the fields. When she spoke again, her voice was firm. “I will wait here, then. In the meantime, we’re going to work on your dance. Show me your routine. From the top.”

Oh no! I pulled all four limbs into my shell and hoped as hard as I’d hoped for anything in this life that Taila and Nailus would have the good sense not to run through the entire Dawn Dance.

No such luck.

The children were delighted to have a new audience, especially such a captive, attentive audience. They took their starting positions, babbling all the while about how there were supposed to be six more dancers, but they didn’t have that many dancers, so they just pretended that there were three other couples here and here and here, so she should pretend that they were standing on one side of a box…. Floridiana listened and nodded along and asked occasional questions that indicated that she, too, had received formal dance training. I’d guessed as much when I first saw her years ago, but the confirmation was still satisfying.

Less satisfyingly, the cat got bored not even halfway through. It leaped off Floridiana’s shoulder and started slinking its way around Honeysuckle Croft. It batted the top of my shell and, when I didn’t stick my head out to snap at it, crept closer to sniff me. I stayed hidden inside my shell, and eventually it lost interest, bounded onto the windowsill, and vanished into the cottage.

Floridiana didn’t even call it back. Some guest manners!

By the time Taila and Nailus stumbled their way to the final bow and curtsey, Floridiana’s mouth hung open as wide as Lord Silurus’ maw. I thought it was their limping performance that had horrified her past words, but then she exclaimed, “Why are you starting with something that hard? Who’s your teacher?”

“It’s Mi– ” began Taila.

Not trusting her to remember our cover story, Nailus broke in, “Mistress Bobo! Bo– Mistress Bobo taught us!”

“Mistress Bobo?”

Puffing up, Taila explained, “Bobo’s a snake spirit. She dances at Caltrop Pond aaaaaall the time.”

“Does she…?” Floridiana raised her eyebrows. “Well, that’s a ridiculous thing to teach you. At your age, you should be starting with the basics, not jumping into something that was designed to test adults’ skill and stamina. Here. Why don’t I show you while we wait?”

And, to my everlasting shock, she started teaching a beginner dance lesson.

To my even greater shock, she was actually not a bad teacher when she wasn’t posturing for an audience. She was firm and methodical, yet patient, and she seemed to enjoy mentoring small children.

Taila, on the other hand, was smart and energetic and could use a mentor who was firm, methodical, and patient, and held a job that paid far better than tenant farming, had far more social prestige, and took her far away from Black Sand Creek.

All right, new plan: I was going to apprentice Taila to Floridiana.

The mage’s friendliness vanished as soon as dusk fell and the older Jeks returned from the fields. An arrogant mask dropped over her face, and she adopted an imperious pose that I decided to call “The Empress Awaits.” Her right hand, hidden from their view by her skirts, dropped to the bronze seal that swung from her belt, and she clenched it. Huh. Was she actually nervous?

But however she felt about the meeting, she couldn’t have been as nervous as the Jeks. Their casual conversation cut off when they saw the ramrod-straight figure in the gloom, and all four of them sped up.

“Good evening, Honored Mage,” called Mistress Jek. “How may we be of ser– What can we help you with?”

The mage’s eyes scrutinized her from head to toe, followed by Master Jek, followed by Ailus and Cailus. The normally outspoken Cailus fidgeted when his turn came, but had the self-preservation instinct to keep his mouth shut.

Sensing nothing magical from any of them, Floridiana relaxed. “You would be Master and Mistress Jek? The registered tenants of Honeysuckle Croft?” she confirmed.

“Yep, Honored Mage,” replied Master Jek. “Need help with somethin’?”

For once, I blessed him for being such a slow learner.

At that moment, the cat leaped onto Floridiana’s shoulder. It was hard to tell, but it might have meowed into her ear. Hmm. This had to be a cat spirit pretending to be a normal pet.

The mage beamed a shopgirl-who-needs-to-make-her-sales-quota smile. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I’ll be in the area for a while, and I’ve been looking for lodgings. I am absolutely fascinated by what you’ve done with your farm! Love the vegetable garden and the honeysuckle bush. I’m afraid this bad girl – ” she pretended to glare at the cat – “has already explored your house without an invitation. She says you have beds.” At the mention of speaking, the cat spirit’s head jerked around. She glared at the mage, who rambled on, “Real beds! I haven’t slept in a bed in ages! I’d like to rent one from you.”

Oh boy.

All of the Jeks looked at me at the same time, but of course I couldn’t speak to give them advice.

The mage followed their gaze to what looked like one small oracle-shell turtle, and I felt her magical scan envelope me. I didn’t think she was powerful enough to detect anything odd from a simple scan – I did have the body of a normal turtle, after all – and I was correct. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

“I’ll pay a reasonable rate for food and lodgings, of course,” she assured Master and Mistress Jek, acting as if money were the only concern they could possibly have about a complete stranger turning their home into an inn.

But fair enough. If they were a normal peasant family, money would be their main concern. Also, how could normal peasants say “no” to a mage who intimidated even the Dragon King of Black Sand Creek?

At that point, there was only one realistic answer, and Mistress Jek gave it on behalf of the whole family. “We’d be honored. Please, won’t you join us for supper?”

Ugh. Double ugh. Triple ugh. Double-triple ugh!

With that wretched mage and cat spirit staying in the cottage and scrutinizing the Jeks’ every move, I had to stop Taila’s lessons. I didn’t even dare approach the girl for fear that she’d give me away. While I camped out in Bobo’s bamboo stand, I fretted that Taila would forget all her reading, writing, math, and etiquette.

From a safe distance, I observed that Floridiana was continuing the children’s dance lessons with the same zeal as on the first day. As a trained mage, she was certainly capable of teaching reading, writing, math, and possibly etiquette too. Except that we couldn’t let her know that those were the main subjects Taila had been learning.

Another worry was that the longer Floridiana stayed, the more likely it was that one of the children would blurt out something about a talking turtle or an emissary from Heaven.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, I complained to Bobo and Stripey when he snuck over for a visit. How long do you think she’ll stay?

The duck demons were just as inconvenienced by the mage’s presence as I was. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Hopefully not much longer.”

One of the first things I’d had him investigate was who had hired Floridiana to harass the Jeks. So far, all he’d found out was that it was that sweet potato vendor, Mistress Khun, and her cronies who’d pointed Floridiana at them. But there was no way a street stall owner could afford a mage’s fee. And anyway, the good people of Claymouth Barony had already decided that the Jeks were connected to demons. They didn’t need to spend hard-earned money to confirm what they already “knew.”

Someone has to be behind this. If we find out who, we can counter them.

“Well, it’s not the Baron. I already asked Anasius.”

Would he tell you the truth?

Stripey snorted. “You’ve seen him, right? Do you think he can lie? To me?”

That was true. That prissy, stuck-up seneschal would choke to death on the words.

Okay, so it’s not the neighbors, and it’s not the baron. It’s also not the Dragon King of Caltrop Pond.

The little dragon had been the first person I’d interrogated, one morning when he was groggy and hungover and in no condition to remember any cover stories. His indignant “Of course not! I’m helping you help the Jeks, remember?” and “Do you really think I can afford to anger a goddess?!” and “How much spare cash do you think I have?” and “You do realize she’s been harassing me too, right?!” had convinced me.

“The Dragon King of Black Sand Creek?” suggested Stripey, pulling one leg up into his thinking pose. “Maybe he betrayed us.”

I shook my head at once. Unlikely. He’s not the sort.

Nagi was, but she and the Water Court didn’t gain enough from the move for her to make it. Why waste money on a mage when she could simply point out to Yulus that spring was advanced, Jek Taila wouldn’t starve, and he’d done more than enough to atone for letting her older sister get eaten in front of him?

“Does anyone elssse know about the goddess?” Bobo asked out of the blue. “Did we tell anyone elssse?”

No. My answer was immediate.

“No.” Stripey’s came at the same time.

“Okay. Ssso it can’t be becaussse of that. Hmmm. Hmmm. I really can’t think of anything elssse.”

The problem was that neither could Stripey or I.

After a moment, I blew out a gust of air. There was only one thing left to do.

Meeting the duck demon’s eyes, I asked, Who do you think is more likely to answer questions: the mage or the cat?

“The mage,” said Stripey at the same time that Bobo said, “The cat.”