Vixen's Magic

by Aron Lewes

  “Figure it out,” Wilhelm said, pushing the old man in the direction of the window. “Originally, I was supposed to kill you, so... a little tree climb sounds like a good deal by comparison. Besides, if you fall, it's not so far down.”

  “Maybe not to a young man like you, but to an old man like me...”

  Edmore was motivated by the sight of Wilhelm's crossbow, aimed at his face. The whimpering old man stepped through the window and clung to the nearest tree branch.

  “You'll go to hell for this, you know!” Edmore bellowed. “There's no way you could bully an old man and end up anywhere else!”

  “You're not telling me anything I haven't told myself before,” said Wilhelm, who held his breath as the old man descended. He didn't want to have to splint any broken bones. “Also... if you try to escape before I'm on the ground, I will shoot you, so please behave yourself.”

  “Heartless...” Edmore repeated. “If you do have a heart, it's as black as midnight!”

  “Can't you come up with anything more interesting than that?” Wilhelm asked through a yawn. “Seriously, I've heard it all before. If you're going to insult me, at least come up with something original.”

  Once or twice, Edmore almost lost his footing, but he made it to the ground without falling. With absurd grace, Wilhelm jumped down the oak and landed on his feet.

  “Follow me, please,” Wilhelm whispered to his captive. “If you make one suspicious move, or make any noise I'm not expecting, I'll put a bolt in your back.”

  “Charming,” Edmore mumbled. “You're so charming, you know that?”

  “I do, actually. I get that a lot.”

  Wilhelm took a slightly different path to leave the garden—one that didn't involve scaling a hedge. Instead, they tackled the hedge maze and made it outside no less than five minutes later.

  “What does my nephew intend to do with me? Do you have any idea?” Edmore asked.

  “No... but I'm guessing it won't end in your favor.”

  Wilhelm nudged the old prince, directing him to the woods where Kylin and Esha were waiting. When he reunited with them, Esha helped him haul their captive onto one of the horses.

  “Thanks for the tip, Esha,” Wilhelm said. “Entering the villa was too easy. Who would have guessed that Larien's lecherous ways would have eventually paid off?”

  Esha chuckled, but he didn't reply. He was too focused on Kylin. They had thrown Edmore onto her horse, so she was without a mount of her own. She would need to ride with someone. Before she could choose Wilhelm, Esha offered her a hand and pulled her onto his horse.

  “Larien's lecherous ways?” Edmore repeated. “What does that mean?”

  It was Esha who revealed his prince's bad behavior. “Larien used to slip into Sophie's bed at night... right under your nose, in fact. But that was a long time ago, right? You have bigger things to worry about... like your life. If I was you, old man, I would start praying.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  PRINCE LARIEN WAS RIPPED from a deep sleep at an obscenely early hour, by a voice whispering in his head, “Larien! Prince Larien, are you awake?”

  He rolled over, rubbed his eyes, and answered in his mind, “Well, now I am.”

  “Sorry for waking you up, but I have important news,” said the Esha in his head. “We've captured Edmore. Where would you like us to take him?”

  It was too early to focus on names and places, but Esha was waiting for an answer. Larien had to think of something. “Take him to Laramie Abbey. It should be halfway between your location and mine. Do you know where it is?”

  “I think so. Is that the ruined abbey?”

  Esha had to wait for an answer. The prince stuck his head into the hall to order eggs and bacon from one of his servants. As the servant walked away, Larien replied, “Yes, the ruined abbey north of Thebes. I'll set out for the abbey as soon as I've finished breakfast. Can you get there by noon tomorrow?”

  “We'll try,” whispered Esha's voice. “Do you have any other orders or requests?”

  “None that I can think of,” Larien said. “If you don't mind, I'm signing off. I had a few drinks last night, and this communication is hurting my head.”

  Only Esha could sever the link. If he wanted to, he could have haunted the prince all day, but he never disobeyed an order. Larien was glad when his friend's voice faded, because there was too much pressure in his head.

  Larien collapsed on his bed for ten minutes before a tap on his door made him rise again. He expected breakfast, but he didn't expect its deliverer. Vala, with a rare smile on her face, was holding his plate.

  “Hello, Highness,” she greeted him, shoving the plate into his hands. “I wanted to apologize for my bad behavior yesterday.”

  “Really? I recall no such behavior.” Larien returned to his bed, motioned for her to enter, and started on his breakfast.

  “Well, I was... drunk. Too drunk,” Vala said. “When you get as drunk as I did, you're no fun to have around.”

  “I think you were fun,” the prince disagreed. “I recall that you were rather charming, actually.”

  “No offense, but you have a twisted definition of charm, Your Highness.” Vala sat on the end of Larien's bed and waited for him to protest. When he said nothing, she crawled a bit closer. “Are you so bored of pretty, proper ladies that only a drunk assassin can amuse you?”

  “Probably,” Larien agreed. “The ladies I've courted... they all say the same things. They all act a certain way, dress a certain way. It's as if they've all modeled themselves after the same perfect lady. But if there's one thing I've learned in all my years, it's that perfection doesn't exist. No one remembers how to act like themselves, but you do. When you're with Vala, you get Vala, and you make no apologies.”

  “Well, technically, I did apologize,” Vala pointed out. “Just now, I did.”

  “True.” Larien chuckled. “Nevertheless, I like the person you are. I enjoy being around you.”

  Vala dragged a hand through her short, unnaturally colored hair as she watched the prince nibble his breakfast. When her eyes landed on his lips, she said, “You even eat like a fancy man... all dainty and proper. I know men who use their fingers. They shovel food into their mouths like animals.”

  “That's probably the way humans were meant to eat,” Larien said. “Over the years, we've tried to civilize ourselves.”

  “Hmm.” Vala had nothing left to add to the conversation. She kicked off her shoes and laid on her side, facing the prince's direction. “Y'know... I can't figure you out, Princey. I can't tell if you genuinely fancy me, or if you're playin' me like a pawn.”

  “What do you think?” Larien asked, setting his plate aside.

  “I don't know.” Vala shrugged. “If I am a pawn of some sort, I can't imagine how you'd intend to use me... unless you want someone dead?”

  Larien laid next to Vala and stared into her eyes. A weak smile hovered on his lips as he whispered, “I'm not using you.”

  “See? I almost believe that,” Vala said. “You have that stupid, charming face. It could probably convince anyone.”

  “Good.” Larien smoothed back her hair and grinned. “A good leader should be a convincing liar.”

  Vala's eyes narrowed until he could barely see them. “Does that mean you've been lyin' to me about something?”

  “We all lie,” Larien said. “If we were always completely honest with everyone, no one would have any friends. We would all hate each other.”

  “You're probably right about that.” Vala's eyes went back to Larien's lips. Leaning closer, she asked, “What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

  “I would welcome it,” Larien whispered. “I would be a fool to do anything else.”

  Larien felt her lips first, warm and slightly moist. Then he felt the unmistakable chill of ice cold metal, pressed against his throat.

  “Ah. A knife,” he casually noted. “You get me to drop my guard, then you kill me? Was that your plan?”

 
; Vala answered simply, “Perhaps.”

  “Where'd you get the knife?”

  “From the kitchen,” she said. “When I collected your breakfast, no one saw me swipe it.”

  They watched each other in silence, their eyes sullen, their lips having lost their smiles. For over a minute, she pressed the knife against Larien's neck, and the only sound they heard was the tedious tick of a clock.

  “You won't kill me,” Larien finally broke the silence. “You like me.”

  “Let's see if you still feel that way when you're dead,” Vala said.

  Larien leaned forward, forcing her knife to retreat. As he kissed her again, his hands found her wrists, and he pinned them against the bed.

  “Naughty girl,” Larien purred against her lips. “Let go of the knife, please. I won't ask twice.”

  Vala's fingers uncurled, one by one, releasing the knife. “Are you going to arrest me now? Throw me in a dungeon, or...?”

  “No. Of course not. I like you.” Larien claimed Vala's knife, stomped across the room, and tossed it in a drawer. Smoothing the wrinkles from his clothes, he added, “As much as I would love to explore this bizarre relationship we have, I'm leaving today. I'm meeting Esha and your brother at Laramie Abbey. You and Rai should be safe in the castle while I'm gone.”

  Vala sat up, her back rigid. “You're leaving? Can I go with you?”

  “There's no need,” Larien said. “I'm meeting my uncle there. I may or may not take his head. I wouldn't want you to see that.”

  Vala threw back her head and laughed. “Are you trying to protect me from a bit of gore? Me? I've taken heads with my own blade, you know.”

  “Actually, I'm trying to protect me,” Larien corrected her. “I might be killing my uncle... a man I used to love like a father. I would rather you not be around to see me make such a terrible choice.”

  “It's not so terrible if he tried to kill you first.” Vala crossed the room to hold the prince's hand—an intimate gesture she didn't often initiate. “And I'm going with you, like it or not.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I'D SAY WE HAVE FIVE more hours until we reach Laramie Abbey,” Wilhelm reported. “We're losing daylight, so I suggest we make camp. Even if we stop to eat and rest, we should have plenty of time to reach our destination by noon tomorrow.”

  They rode all day, for hours at a time, stopping only to rest the horses. Edmore hadn't uttered a word since they left his villa, despite his captors' attempts to start a pleasant conversation. His craggy face wore a constant glower, so indomitable that even Kylin's sweetest smiles had no impact on it.

  Wilhelm started to heat a can of beans, but his fire was endangered by approaching storm clouds. Kylin closed her eyes and sent the clouds sailing backward, away from their camp. Some of the darkness left with the rain, but no one seemed to notice.

  Kylin sat next to Wilhelm, watching in silence as he stirred his beans. She couldn't remember the last time he spoke directly to her. He talked to Esha, and even to Edmore, but he ignored her completely. She didn't know if it was intentional, or if it was partly her imagination, but it pained her either way.

  “Wilhelm...” Kylin tried to get his attention, but he didn't react to the sound of her voice. Drastic measures were needed. She picked up a stick, poked his shoulder, and cried, “Wilhelm!”

  He spun halfway around, but still didn't face her direction. “What?”

  “Have you been ignoring me?” she asked.

  “No.” His answer was so cold, it contradicted itself.

  “Still... you seem distant lately,” Kylin observed. “I know you're under a lot of pressure, and you're probably worried about Vala, but I miss the conversations we used to have.”

  “Well then... talk,” Wilhelm said.

  Their relationship had been greatly altered by Esha's arrival. While she didn't dislike her new Chosen, a part of her wished he didn't exist.

  She whispered, “I miss you, Wilhelm,” and held her breath while she waited for his reply.

  “I miss you too.” Wilhelm brushed a thumb across her cheek, so quick and light that it barely grazed her skin—but it was enough to make her miss him more. “If I've been distant, I apologize. You can talk to me anytime.”

  He was so unexpectedly sincere, she didn't know what to say. She could have said something profound or heartfelt, but she only made a suggestion on how to season the beans.

  “Sugar is the key,” said Kylin. “My people prefer a sweet bean paste. Someday, I'll teach you how to make dorayaki. It was a favorite among the children in my clan, and no one could make it better than me.”

  Wilhelm said he would be happy to learn, and that was the end of their conversation. She left his side with tears in her eyes, and a longing in her heart that was indescribable. Esha was her Chosen, she reminded herself. No fact had ever been more difficult to accept.

  When the beans were heated, Wilhelm distributed them evenly, even to Edmore, who spat his first bite in the cook's face. Wilhelm's lips bent into a cruel, unreadable smile as he swabbed his face and sank to the ground across from his prisoner. No one said a word.

  After mealtime, Esha said Edmore would need a constant guard, and he volunteered for the first vigil. Wilhelm didn't protest, because he was beyond exhausted, and nothing sounded better than a few hours of rest. He retreated deeper into the woods, away from the others, and crashed into his bedroll, desperate for sleep.

  Wilhelm's plans were interrupted—but it was a welcome interruption. Kylin woke him with a kiss, as soft as a feather's touch. The light brush with her lips brought back his absent smile.

  “I can't do this anymore,” Kylin whispered. “I can't keep pretending that Esha and I should be together... not when my heart aches for you. It feels wrong.”

  “Where is your perfect boy?” Wilhelm asked.

  “Esha?” Kylin's nose puckered at Wilhelm's description of him. “He's watching over Edmore.”

  “You're not afraid he'll see that kiss?”

  “No. He's too far away. And even if he did see it, I don't care.” Kylin leaned down, indulging herself in three more kisses from the man she craved. “Esha might be my Chosen... but I choose you. Shouldn't that count for something?”

  Wilhelm's fingers flitted across the ends of her hair. “Has any kitsune broken the rules like this, or are you some sort of rebel?”

  “I guess I am a rebel.” Kylin's hand flew to her mouth, blocking a giggle. As she suppressed her giddy laughter, she slid on top of Wilhelm and straddled his waist. “If I break enough rules, you'll have to marry me.”

  Kylin's edict turned his smile into a lopsided smirk. “Says who?” he asked.

  “Says me.”

  Kylin choked back a moan when she felt Wilhelm's fingers gliding along her thighs. Her thirst for his touch was so great, the slightest caress of his hand was enough to set her skin on fire.

  “You already know how I feel about marriage. It's not for me,” Wilhelm said. “But... if I was to make anyone my girl, it would be you.”

  “Don't say things like that!” Kylin cried, smacking his chest with both hands. She hit him so lightly, it was more like a pat. “It's too torturous. You make it sound like I'll never have you!”

  “But it's not for lack of wanting you,” Wilhelm said. “I do want you... but you're a good girl, and that boy over there is a fine, young man. I could give you pleasure, but little more than that. I wouldn't let you ruin yourself on me.”

  “I don't believe that.” Kylin shook her head so hard, her black hair flew. “I don't believe you could only give me pleasure. You care about me, don't you?”

  Wilhelm couldn't bring himself to deny it. “I... do.”

  “If you care about me now, you might love me one day,” Kylin said. “If I could win your heart, it would be my greatest treasure in the world.”

  “That's sweet, Kylin.” Wilhelm sat up and lifted her off of him. “But you need to consider what's best for you. Do you want a life with me... an assassin
, a vagrant, a cad. Or do you want a life with the man you're supposed to be with? Esha is young, innocent, and as good as you are. Even I have to admit, seeing you together makes a great deal of sense.”

  “You're so frustrating!” Kylin whined. “When did you become such a fan of Esha, anyway? I thought you hated him!”

  “I never hated him,” Wilhelm corrected her. “We were on opposing sides, at first... and I didn't like that he was taking you away from me, but—”

  “See?” Kylin interrupted. “You do care about me!”

  “I do. I've never denied that.” Wilhelm cupped her cheek and traced its contours with his thumb. “But I also want you to do what's best for you, even if it means stepping aside and seeing you happy with someone else.”

  “I would be happy with you,” Kylin insisted.

  “Maybe we would be happy together... I don't know, but...” Wilhelm's hand fell away from her cheek, and his gaze dropped to the ground. “I don't want you to look at me one day and feel like you missed your chance to be with someone better.”

  “Wilhelm, there's no one better than you!” Kylin clung to his arm and cradled it against her chest. “I like Esha well enough, but I would be forcing myself to be with him. Deep down, I know I'd be good for you, and you'd be good for me.”

  “I would protect you 'til my dying breath...” Wilhelm whispered, so quietly that she barely heard him.

  “You say something like that, but you expect me to choose Esha?” Leaning closer to Wilhelm, Kylin said, “I want you.”

  Wilhelm pressed a finger against Kylin's lips, stopping her before she kissed him again. “Take some time to think this over,” he suggested. “At the end of this mission, if you choose to do so, you can return to the ship with me. But I want you to be absolutely certain that you're making the right choice.”

  Leaning away from his silencing finger, she said, “I'm certain now. But if you insist... no more kisses for you tonight!” She hopped up and flicked her dress, knocking away the leaves that clung to it.

  When Wilhelm glanced up at her, his eyes were pleading and puppy-like. “Maybe one more kiss wouldn't be so terrible?” he begged.