The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

As it probably would not surprise you, the bamboo viper took the revelation of my true identity the best out of anyone. After Stripey and I barged into her bamboo stand, we summarized what we’d learned about Floridiana and Boot up to the point where Mistress Jek called on the goddess. Then I lowered my voice into a conspiratorial super-spy whisper, and Bobo leaned in close with her eyes shining.

I need to tell you a secret, I murmured, just loud enough for her to hear me over the rustle of bamboo leaves in the wind. My true name isn’t Rosette or Rosie or Mr. Turtle. It’s Piri.

To my dismay, her reaction wasn’t fear or awe or even shock.

“Piri,” she mused, turning the name over on her tongue. “Piri, Piri, Piri…I’ve heard that sssomewhere….”

Well, I would certainly hope she had.

“Where did I hear it…oh! Oh oh! From the ‘The Emperor and the Fox Demon’! The fox demon in ‘The Emperor and the Fox Demon’ is called Piri!”

A children’s tale wouldn’t be the best record of my deeds, but it was better than nothing, I supposed.

Yes, I said, and waited.

She blinked a few times. “But that’s just a ssstory to ssscare little kids. I don’t know how much is true – wait, that’s really you? You’re that Piri?”

Yes, I said again, modestly. Again, I waited.

“That’s ssso cool! I’m friends with a legend!”

Stripey made a strangled duck sound. “A legendary villain.”

Bobo froze as she reviewed the tale’s depiction of me. I didn’t know the specific version of events in “The Emperor and the Fox Demon,” but I’d be willing to bet that it painted me as the greatest villainess in Serican history.

Bobo cocked her head from side to side, studying me. Did she see pride in the way I lifted my chin? Inevitability in the way I planted my feet? A glint of demonic intent in my eyes?

The bamboo viper flicked the tip of her tail. “Okay! Ssso then what happened? Did the goddess come down to Earth herssself?”

Lady Fate? Well, yes, of course she’d come down to Earth herself to speak to me. That should have been in the tale – oh. Bobo meant Aurelia. She was more interested in the events of today.

It was not the reaction that either Stripey or I had expected, although, in retrospect, we probably should have.

Stripey did try. “Uh, Bobo, she just confessed that she’s a coldblooded serial killer. She’s the real Piri.”

Bobo studied me from head to tail again. For a moment, I thought she was going to recoil and slither away hissing, and for some reason it made me feel a little – I didn’t know – wistful, maybe? Regretful? No, no, that wasn’t it….

Before I could pin down the feeling, Bobo shook her head. “Nah. That was a long time ago. Like, hundreds of years ago. Ssshe’s Rosssie now.”

Stripey heaved a long, long sigh.

As for me, I felt another fleeting…something that skittered out of reach. I couldn’t put a name to it, but it was akin to the sensation I got when I first awakened, when I stared at a mountain that soared into the clouds, or a cataract that crashed down from the peaks, or an autumn river set ablaze by scarlet leaves….

It might have been…humility?

I shook it off.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to help me carry out my mission, which meant that its name was unimportant.

I answered Bobo’s question. No, the goddess didn’t come down to Earth herself, although she did send her messenger….

It took a Heavenly bureau’s worth of bickering more, but eventually my Earthly taskforce agreed (for some definition of agreed) on a plan and lurched into action. Since Floridiana believed that Taila showed promise as a future mage, and Master and Mistress Jek consented, the mage drew up a course of studies for the girl. The academic subjects consisted of reading, writing, math, and natural philosophy and were, in fact, essentially what I’d been teaching already. The formal dance and etiquette lessons, on the other hand, she shelved for later.

“Kids this young don’t need to memorize stuff like how to bow to a baron versus a duchess,” Floridiana insisted to Mistress Jek, who agreed.

Just as I’d predicted, the two had bonded over their terror of me. They allied themselves against me, lending each other courage to oppose my wishes during taskforce meetings. It was aggravating, although not as aggravating as it could have been.

Although I personally believed that children needed to learn etiquette young so it turned into instinct, I’d entrusted Taila’s education to the mage, and so I let her decide the curriculum. (It was that – or keep teaching the Dawn Dance myself. No thank you.)

With Floridiana responsible for Part Three of the mission, guiding Taila to the best future possible, I turned my attention to Part One: protecting the girl from anyone or anything that might harm her. Based on painful experience, the biggest threat came from the Jeks’ jealous neighbors.

So my first move was to devise a cover story for Floridiana’s stay. However much the mage sputtered and protested to the Jeks that she was a traveling mage – emphasis on the traveling, please! – and could not be tied down to any one spot, it was obvious that she’d be living here for a while. At least until she got our again-unofficial, again-unsanctioned Honeysuckle Croft Primary School off the ground. The neighbors were going to have questions.

The neighbors always had questions.

However, where other members of the taskforce (namely, Stripey, Bobo, the Dragon King of Caltrop Pond, and all of the Jeks who were old enough to understand barony politics) saw another hefty rent hike in the making, I saw opportunity. Here was our chance to kill not one, not two, not three, but four chickens with one bite! We would explain Floridiana’s presence, appease the neighbors, raise the general standard of living in the area, and rake in positive karma all at the same time.

If anyone asks, I instructed the others, Floridiana is a mage of boundless compassion. Feeling a deep connection to the residents of Claymouth after she answered their pleas for rain last time, she returned to check on how they’re doing. Nothing so trivial as a rumor of demonic possession can intimidate so mighty a mage, so she included the Jeks in her round of visits.

Caught up in the tale I was weaving, Floridiana forgot her fear of me long enough to suggest, “Or maybe she – I mean, I – decided to investigate the rumor so I could set everyone’s minds at ease.”

Yes, that also works. Whichever you prefer, I generously allowed. Regardless, as she conversed with the Jeks, she suddenly discovered that they are distant kin!

In fact, what Floridiana suddenly re-discovered at this point was that she was conversing with me. She dropped her eyes and fell silent again.

Naturally, she wished to get to know her family better, so she accepted their invitation to stay with them. And since she sees promise in the children, she is teaching them some basic reading, writing, etc. skills while she’s here.

Everyone agreed, and the story worked.

The neighbors had great faith in the mage who had saved them (so they thought) from drought and famine, and as the Jeks’ speech and movements drifted back towards country manners, a new rumor started that Floridiana had defeated the fox demons that had stolen the Jeks’ bodies. Grateful for a way out, the family played along, and of course Floridiana was happy to claim credit where no credit was due. The Jeks’ “friends” returned, and their social life eased back to normal. The Baron and Seneschal Anasius hesitated to offend Floridiana, and for the time being held off on demanding that she pay for a proper teaching license.

That was two chickens killed.

As for the third, raising the general standard of living, I wanted to turn Honeysuckle Croft into a model cottage. I thought that once they saw its comfortable, hygienic layout, more farmers would adopt the idea of beds, coops, and pigsties. Alas, those changes were slow in coming. As I discovered, smoke from the hearth rose up towards the rafters, meaning that the air was cleanest down by the floor, meaning that most people preferred to sleep there on rushes. As for the chicken coops and pigsties, they felt no particular urgency to move their livestock outdoors when their ancestors hadn’t.

Most of the time, I approved of adherence to tradition. Most of the time.

Anyway, what the neighbors did show an interest in was Floridiana’s lessons. One by one, they approached her to ask if their own children could audit her classes. The mage demurred, claiming that she was just teaching some random skills, that she wasn’t qualified as a teacher, that Baron Claymouth hadn’t granted her permission to open a school, and so on and so forth. The neighbors were impressed by her modesty. I was impressed by her devotion to her itinerant lifestyle.

But opening a school in the Claymouth Barony would be a great idea! Raising the education level of all the children all at once? Could you imagine the positive karma?

I’d learned my lesson, though. This time, I’d make sure we had official approval. Not that I planned to go through official channels to obtain said approval.

Stripey, can you arrange for a meeting between Floridiana and Seneschal Anasius? I asked at our next taskforce meeting.

As usual, we were seated around the table in Honeysuckle Croft after dinner. We’d experimented with different locations, but in the end the cottage had been the best place, since half of the taskforce members lived there already and two more spent significant time there. The Dragon King of Caltrop Pond was less enthusiastic, but faced with a choice between skipping the meetings to stay in his pond and entertain Taila, or attending the meetings and enduring the shabby, smelly cottage, he opted for the latter every time. His rice paddy snake courtiers babysat the Jek children while the adults talked.

The poor, poor things.

“Why do I need to meet with the Seneschal – ” Floridiana broke off as she realized what was happening. “Oh, no. No no no. I told you already, I have no interest in opening a school here! None!”

That was because she didn’t know what was good for her. An itinerant lifestyle was no life for a human, especially as she grew older. Setting up shop and school here would grant her both a stable income and a circle of friends to turn to when she needed help.

It’s not permanent, I soothed. But we already got in trouble with the Baron last time when I was teaching lessons in secret. We don’t want a repeat.

“I’m not opening a school!”

No one said anything about opening a school. We just need you to apply for a permit to teach classes to children.

Given that she had only committed to teaching one child, two on occasion when Nailus joined in, the plural made her suspicious. But in the end, she agreed that another thirty-three-percent rent hike would be disastrous.

For an appropriate fee (which was much less than a third of the Jeks’ rent), the Baron approved and granted Floridiana a permit.

But since the permit for teaching two children turned out to be the same price as the permit for teaching two dozen, Floridiana added the neighbors’ offspring to her class. Grudgingly. For a fee, of course. And so the Honeysuckle Croft Primary School became reality.

As the number of students increased, so did Floridiana’s income, until she stopped fussing so often about getting back on the road.

I didn’t say I told you so, but sometimes I caught her glaring at me as if I had.