Vixen's Magic

by Aron Lewes

  “That's sad,” Kylin said. “So... if I stay with Wilhelm, or if I stay in the city... will I lose my power as well?”

  “Probably. I have a theory. I think humans used to have magic too, but their time in crowded cities must have blocked their abilities. They've lost their connection to nature and the elements.”

  “Hmm. Maybe.” Disappointment quivered in her voice, but it had nothing to do with Esha's theory. It was Esha's empty arms that bothered her. He wasn't helping with the kindling.

  “Can you give me a demonstration of your power?” Esha asked. “Can you make it rain on us, right now?”

  “I could, but... we still need to build a fire. Making it rain doesn't seem like the wisest thing to do.”

  “Then... a cyclone?”

  “No. That would be way too dangerous.”

  “How about lightning?”

  “You can't have lightning without a storm, and the storm would have to come from somewhere. I would have to move some rain clouds into the area, and that—”

  Puzzled by Kylin's inability to finish her thought, Esha followed her gaze to a pair of gnarled trees. Beyond their crooked branches, a pair of blue eyes was watching them. One glimpse of silver-gray fur pulled the breath from Esha's lungs.

  “A wolf,” Kylin whispered, ignoring the pinpricks of fear that skittered along her spine. Their predator was beautiful, but she was licking her lips, imagining the taste of her prey.

  As quietly as he could, Esha asked, “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

  Kylin thought about screaming for Wilhelm, but she was afraid to provoke their predator. She doubted Esha's solution would have anything to do with Wilhelm, so she asked, “What are you thinking?”

  Esha shared his plan in as few words as he could manage. “We shift. Both of us.”

  Kylin gave him an understanding nod. While she was no match for a wolf in either of her forms, she was faster on four legs.

  Though they shifted simultaneously, she was wrong to assume that Esha meant to flee. As she bolted deeper into the woods, Esha, in fox form, pounced on the wolf. His teeth sank into her sinewy neck, but it was barely enough to make the larger animal yelp. The wolf shook her head, flinging the fox like a toy.

  Realizing Esha was nowhere near her, Kylin turned around. What was he doing? It was madness to take on a beast that was three times his size.

  Esha landed on his side, but he was back on his feet in an instant. Twirling backward, he evaded an encounter with the wolf's snapping jaws.

  Kylin returned to her humanoid form and screamed, “Esha, what are you doing? Come with me!”

  Esha ignored her plea and pounced again, sinking his claws into the wolf's hind quarters. Again, the wolf easily shook him off, and clamped her mouth on the fox's smaller body.

  “Wilhelm!” Kylin screamed, and at the same time, she closed her eyes and imagined dark clouds, undulating overhead. Her desperation made a rapid change in the weather, much faster than usual. From the gray nebula, she brought down a ribbon of lightning, but her aim was off by inches. Only the ground was singed by the striking bolt.

  The wolf retreated from the lightning, but she didn't release her prey. Esha was caught in the wolf's jaws, and she shook him until his body went limp in her mouth. She dropped him, nudged him with her nose, and without warning, shifted her hungry gaze to Kylin.

  “Go away!” Kylin screamed, flinching at the cool rain that pattered her forehead. “Leave now, or I will kill you!”

  Kylin's threat was as shallow as her bravery. As the wolf advanced, her second attempt to summon lightning was poorly aimed. The bolt hit a tree, and the wolf leapt toward her.

  She was seconds away from shifting and running when Wilhelm appeared, his bow already drawn. He released an arrow, striking the wolf's head, ending her days as a hunter.

  “Are you alright?” Wilhelm asked. “Were you hurt?”

  “Yes, but... Esha...”

  She pointed at the unmoving fox, his body slick with blood.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I STAYED UP ALL NIGHT asking myself... where does a man like me take a woman like you? The typical date doesn't seem appropriate.”

  Vala was in the middle of a yawn when the prince spoke. Her lips stretched apart so far, she felt a subtle crack in her jaw. Regaining control of her mouth, she replied, “You stayed up all night? That sounds like a piss poor way to spend your time, Highness.”

  Unshaken by her brutal honesty, Larien continued, “I can't show up at your door with flowers, and I doubt a candlelit dinner would have much of an effect on you.”

  “It wouldn't,” Vala agreed. “What's so romantic about candles, anyway? They're fire on a stick.”

  “I... think it has something to do with the ambiance. They set a certain mood.”

  “If you say so.”

  Vala flashed a smile at the young guard who, at Larien's behest, had been following her around all day. Earlier, she swiped his sword from his sheath, handed it back to him, and told him to be more careful with his weapon. Since then, his hand never moved from his hilt, and every time she made eye contact with him, he blanched.

  “Anyway, I thought I could take you to a pub,” Larien said. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe such a place would appeal to a woman like you.”

  “A woman like me.” Her lips moved into a catlike grin as she repeated the prince's words. “Crass, crude, and a little bit depraved, you mean?”

  “Something like that,” Larien said. “Well, what do you think? Would a pub be suitable for our first date?”

  “Why not? Lead the way, Princey.”

  Larien took her arm and escorted her to a carriage, just outside the castle walls. As Vala jumped into its interior, she crowed, “Sweet Lord, I've never been in a carriage like this before! Look at these curtains! Is that real gold on the wall?” A plate of strawberries and cream had already been prepared for them, so she helped herself to one of the fruits. “If you keep treating me like this, and I might turn into a proper lady.”

  “I'd like to see that,” Larien said. “But... then again, it would be regrettable if you no longer seem like your usual, charming self.”

  “I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not. There ain't nothin' charming about me.” Vala crashed into one of the seats, sighing at the soft cushion that cradled her back.

  “Nonsense! I think you're very charming... in your own way.”

  “Am I charming enough to charm a prince's trousers off?”

  “I... don't know.” Larien chuckled nervously. “But I suspect we might find out before the end of the night.”

  In the carriage, they had their first drink of the evening. Larien poured a tall glass of fancy red wine for Vala, which she chugged much faster than any high-born lady ever would. It impressed him, and she continued to impress him when they reached the pub. She poured shot after shot, occasionally stopping to sample the snacks he ordered.

  “I thought about challenging you to a drinking contest, but from the looks of it, you already have me conquered,” Larien said.

  “Oh... sweetie...” Vala reached across the table and gave him a condescending pat on the hand. “You don't want to challenge Vala to a drinking competition. Trust me.”

  As he watched her drink, a smirk crept up his face. She was already slurring, so he had every reason to suspect she was in her cups, and her mind was addled. Moving his chair closer to hers, he asked, “Who hired you? I'm guessing you never had direct contact with Edmore. In his old age, my uncle rarely leaves his villa, so...”

  “Were you hoping to get me drunk to get some information out of me?” Vala asked. “That doesn't seem like a very romantic date.”

  “It could be romantic. We can show our trust for each other,” Larien claimed. “I doubt you have too much loyalty to my uncle, so why not tell me who he's working with?”

  “An assassin never tells,” Vala slurred, then she pretended to button up her lips.

  “Very well. Let's ta
lk about something else,” Larien proposed. “At what age did you make your first kill?”

  “Dunno.” When Vala tried to pour another shot, half of her whiskey splashed across the table. “At what age did you make your first kill?”

  “Fifteen,” Larien answered matter-of-factly. “Father decided I was old enough to participate in battle. I killed a man who must have been four times older than me. After he fell, I picked his pockets and found a miniature portrait of a lady, presumably his wife.”

  “Coulda been a mistress,” Vala added.

  “Perhaps, but she was an older woman.”

  “Maybe she was his mum?”

  Larien ignored Vala's interruptions and continued his story. “After the battle, Uncle Edmore took me to a pub to celebrate... we were on good terms back then. He bought me a night with a prostitute named Sara. I took her upstairs and pretended to bed her, but all we did was chat. She was a nice lady... funny too. That night, I learned that I should never judge people.”

  Vala's eyelids were drooping when she faced the prince. “That's a nice tale and all, but I never asked to hear it.”

  “I suppose you didn't.” Larien capped her bottle and rose from his chair. “Come. Let's return to the castle. I think you need to lie down.”

  “I think you're right.” When Vala rose, she stumbled into the prince's arms. “Sorry. I think I'm drunk.”

  “I think you're right,” replied a chuckling Larien.

  “I never know when to quit. Life's hard, y'know? Sometimes you want to dull the pain and block it all out.”

  “Believe me, I understand completely.” Larien wrapped an arm around Vala's shoulders and escorted her back to the carriage, which was guarded by ten armed soldiers.

  As Larien handed her into the carriage, Vala mumbled, “What would a prince know about a hard life?”

  “Well, my uncle's trying to kill me, so... there's that,” Larien replied, leaping into the seat beside her. “You would probably be surprised by the amount of stress in my life.”

  “Bollocks.” Vala flicked her hand, dismissing his claim. “You'll never know what it's like to not have a meal on your table every day. You'll never know what it's like to see bruises on your little brother's arms and wish you could save him. You'll never know what it's like to kill a man so that little brother can eat.”

  “Fair enough,” Larien said. “But we all have our hardships... some more than others.”

  Vala could feel her eyelids sinking, so she forced them back open. “You know what? You're different than I thought you'd be.”

  “Dare I ask... different how?”

  “I thought you'd be vain, boring, intolerable...” Vala held up fingers as she named his expected traits. “But you're none of those things. You're actually kind of... nice. If I woulda killed you, I think I would've regretted it.”

  “Would you, though?” Larien asked. “If you would've killed me, you never would've gotten to know me.”

  “I know. Sad, innit?” Vala poked his cheek with a finger. “It makes me wonder if I've killed other men who didn't deserve killing. Maybe I would have liked them too?”

  “Does that mean you like me, then?” Larien asked.

  “A bit. I liiiittle bit.” She held her fingers close together to demonstrate the depth of her affection. “Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to take a nap. I drank too much... as usual.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  WITH A GENTLE HAND, Kylin dabbed a damp cloth against the wounds of her Chosen. In human form, Esha's gashes were smaller, but they were no less painful.

  “What were you thinking, taking on a beast like that?” Even Kylin's lecture managed to sound gentle. “You could have gotten killed.”

  “Perhaps I wasn't thinking,” Esha said. “In that moment, I only wanted to keep you safe. That was the only thought on my mind.”

  Wilhelm unhitched the horses and listened to their exchange. He thought he had released his attachment to Kylin, but hearing her fuss over Esha was more than he could stomach. He led the horses further down the path, away from the concerned couple.

  He didn't get far.

  “Wilhelm!” Kylin called to him. “Wilhelm, where are you going?”

  “Away,” he mumbled. “I want to get to Edmore's villa before the sun rises.”

  “We'll have to ride fast then,” said Esha, wincing as he rose. “We still have quite a bit of ground to cover if you want to get there by—”

  Kylin grabbed his arm and asked, “What about your wounds?”

  “Forget about them. They're not severe, and we can't treat them properly out here in the wilderness.” Esha claimed a horse from Wilhelm and mounted slowly, grunting at every move he made.

  “You're in a great deal of pain, though... it's obvious,” Kylin said.

  Esha ignored her concern, focusing his attention on Wilhelm instead. To facilitate the assassin's mission, he revealed the villa's one and only weak point.

  “Some years ago, when Larien was courting his uncle's ward, he used to climb a tree next to Sophie's window,” Esha said. “The window doesn't have a proper lock, so it should be easy to slip inside.”

  “Assuming I can climb a tree...” Wilhelm muttered to himself. When everyone had mounted, he and his horse set a rigorous pace for the steeds that followed.

  “What happened to Larien and the ward?” Kylin asked.

  “Sophie married someone else, but by that time, Larien was already finished with her,” Esha said. “That might sound like a harsh way to put it, but in his younger days, the prince was rather rakish. I believe his wild oats have been sown, however.”

  Kylin cocked her head. “Oats? What?”

  “I keep forgetting you haven't lived with humans as long as I have. They have some unusual expressions,” Esha explained. “If a man is sowing his wild oats, he's living a debauched, reckless life.”

  She leaned closer to Esha's horse and whispered, “Like Wilhelm?”

  Esha said, “Probably like Wilhelm, yes. He doesn't strike me as a virtuous man.”

  “What about you?” Kylin whispered. “Are you virtuous?”

  “I try to be. I've lived with the humans for a long time, but I promise you... they haven't corrupted me.”

  The ride to the villa was long, and the horses could only sprint for so long—especially when they, like their riders, had little to no sleep. Halfway to their destination, Wilhelm slowed the horses to a less grueling canter.

  “Wilhelm, I have something to tell you,” Esha spoke up. “Last night, I had a conversation with Prince Larien.”

  “That's lovely,” Wilhelm joked. “Did you tell him how much I miss him?”

  Esha drew a breath and continued, “Larien no longer wants you to assassinate Edmore. Instead, he would like you to capture him and bring him to a neutral location to negotiate his uncle's surrender.”

  “Why the change of heart?” Wilhelm asked.

  Esha said, “Larien and his uncle used to be friends. The thought of killing Edmore... it pains him, I think.”

  “Fuck that!” Wilhelm snorted. “His uncle tried to kill him. I don't think I'd stall for one second if someone tried to kill me first.”

  “That's fine for you, but Larien isn't as ruthless,” Esha said. “Personally, I think it's better if it ends this way. Perhaps Larien and Edmore can salvage something of their old relationship.”

  Wilhelm shook his head, but held his tongue. He wouldn't have tolerated the existence of an uncle who wanted him dead. Larien was too soft, and soft hearts made mortal errors. Wilhelm would have preferred to cut off the uncle's head and be done with it.

  They reached Edmore's villa within two hours of departing. It was a bright, sunny mansion with yellow stucco walls, wrapped in red vines, but they couldn't see its splendor. The hour was still early, and the sky was still dark.

  Kylin and Esha agreed to wait in the surrounding woods while Wilhelm did his job. His mission required stealth, and anyone who followed would only slow him down. He hoppe
d a gate, scaled a hedge, and approached the villa by way of the garden. Crouching behind rosebushes, he easily identified the tree from Esha's story. The oak's hearty branches were perfect for climbing.

  Seeing no guards on patrol, Wilhelm strolled through the garden as if he belonged there. He easily ascended the tree, and when he reached the window, he tapped on the pane. No one answered, so he opened the window and slipped into the villa.

  Wilhelm's wayspinner led him down the hall, to a bedroom that was surprisingly minimalist for a man in the royal family. Old Edmore was still asleep, wrapped in many blankets, with his cheek squashed against a pillow. Larien's nemesis was a man in his seventies, if not his eighties. Wilhelm didn't feel like giving him a rude awakening, so he tapped the man's shoulder and held a finger to his lips.

  As Edmore's eyes opened, Wilhelm hissed, “Quiet. I don't want to hurt you... or anyone, for that matter... so please refrain from calling your guards.”

  Edmore sat up, his mouth gaping, but he made no sound.

  “Your nephew wants to see you,” Wilhelm whispered. “I guess you got his attention when you tried to have him killed.”

  “I did no such thing!” Edmore growled.

  “Actually... you did. And I have first hand knowledge of that,” Wilhelm said. “Would you mind coming with me? I'd rather not use force, so...”

  “I'm a frail old man! Would you really use force on someone with bones as brittle as mine?”

  “You don't look that brittle to me.” Wilhelm grabbed the collar of Edmore's long nightshirt and dragged him out of bed. “Besides, I've killed a man who was about your age... recently, in fact.”

  “Heartless!” Edmore cried.

  Wilhelm didn't disagree. He grabbed Edmore by the scruff of his neck and propelled him down the hall, in the direction of their escape route. Edmore didn't speak again until he realized the ruffian expected him to climb down a tree.

  “I can't do that!” Edmore whimpered. “I haven't climbed a tree since I was a small boy!”