by Aron Lewes
Vixen's Chosen
The Fox and the Assassin, Volume 1
Aron Lewes
Published by Aron Lewes, 2021.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
VIXEN'S CHOSEN
First edition. March 17, 2021.
Copyright © 2021 Aron Lewes.
ISBN: 978-1393103066
Written by Aron Lewes.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Author's Notes
Vixen's Magic - Chapter One
Vixen's Magic - Chapter Two
Vixen's Magic - Chapter Three
Also By Aron Lewes
Chapter One
THE BRIGAND'S DREAM of bare-naked damsels was ended by a slap that left his face stinging and red. His eyes, adjusting to a sudden burst of light, tried to focus on the woman in front of him.
The first thing he saw was her eyes, close-set and smoke-colored. The second thing he saw was her distinctive scar, identifying her as a nightmare.
“Aw, shit!” the brigand croaked, shaking back and forth in his chair. “Shit, shit, shit! I always knew this day would come. I knew it.”
“Interesting,” said the woman. She glanced across the room, where her brother was tapping the flat of his sword against his hand. “Judging from his reaction, I think he recognizes us. Should we be flattered?”
“Very,” replied her brother. “I don't mind having a reputation.”
The brigand tried to squirm against the bonds that held him. He was tied to a chair, constricted by ropes that burned when he struggled. No matter how much he writhed and bucked, he wasn't going anywhere.
“Let's introduce ourselves, shall we?” the woman suggested. “I'm Vala.”
She stuck out a hand. He spat on it.
“I know you,” the man drawled. “There's lots of talk about the ugly bitch with the scar beneath her eye, and the little brother who follows her around like his lips is sewn to her arse.”
“Are they really saying that, or did you come up with that by yourself?” Vala asked. Her brother drew a handkerchief from the pocket of his tatty brown coat and tossed it to her. As she swabbed the man's spittle from her hand, she said, “Either way, I'm amused.”
“I didn't make it up!” the rogue replied, in an unnecessarily boisterous voice. “They say he follows you around and does everything you tell 'im to do. That's what they're sayin'.”
“Well, they're not wrong,” replied her brother. He crossed the room and stood next to Vala, letting their captive get a better look at his face. “Vala introduced herself, so I might as well do the same. I'm Wilhelm.”
“I don't care what your names are! It ain't like we're sitting down to have tea, yeah? I know what you are, and I know what you're here to do. Get it over with!”
“Are you in that much of a hurry to die?” Vala asked.
“Why not?” The man banged his head on the back of his chair, as if he was trying to knock himself out. “The other side's got to be better than starin' at yer ugly face, woman. Your brother's prettier than you.”
“Hey, my face isn't so bad!” Despite her protest, Vala smiled at the insult. “I suppose it's a bit masculine, but I am rather fond of it.”
“Cut the shit!” their captive yelled. “Just kill me and be done with it. I'm gettin' no pleasure from these last few minutes of m' life.”
Wilhelm said, “I wish we could kill you, but I'm afraid it won't be as easy as that.” He clenched his teeth and exhaled through his grimace. “Our client paid us to torture you. It'll just be a bit of light torture, mind you. We rarely go too far.”
The prisoner's gaze flicked back and forth between brother and sister, as if he was trying to decide which one he hated more. He sucked on his teeth, most of which were rotten, and forced his lips into a shaky grin.
“Who sent you?” he asked.
Vala said, “You haven't introduced yourself, but I guess that's alright. It'd be a bit pointless, really. We already know everything about you... Argyle.”
“Who sent you!” Argyle screamed the question. “I deserve to know that much, yeah? I have a lot of enemies. It could have been any one of those bastards.”
Vala and Wilhelm exchanged glances, silently deciding who would spill the news. Finally, it was Wilhelm who said, “It was the father of a young woman named Claire.”
Argyle's voice went shrill. “Who? I don't know anyone named Claire!”
“Oh, but I think you do,” Vala disagreed. “She's a young lady from the village of Stonehaven. You raped her. The father wants justice.”
A spray of saliva, illuminated by the light, was launched from Argyle's mouth as he screamed, “You got the wrong man!”
Wilhelm muffled chuckles behind the palm of his hand, while his sister rolled her eyes. Both were amused by the prisoner's attempt to mislead them.
“I'm pretty sure we have the right man, actually,” Wilhelm disagreed. “Claire said you had a tattoo on your bum. I checked it before I hauled you in here. It was hideous, too... the bum, not the tattoo. The tattoo was actually quite nice. Such a talented piece of artwork.”
“Also,” Vala added, “the wayspinner took us directly to you, and the wayspinner never lies.”
“Wayspinner? What the hell is a wayspinner?” Argyle punctuated his question with an aggravated snort.
“It's a... device. Sorry, but I don't feel like telling you more than that.” As she spoke, Vala leaned down to meet her captive at eye level. “Anyway, are you ready to begin? We can give you a moment to prepare, if you'd like.”
“How do you sleep at night?” Argyle drew out every word of his question. “I bet you think you're doin' the world a favor by eliminatin' a man like me, but you're murderers and torturers. You're every bit as bad as me! What gives you the right to decide who lives and who dies?”
“Our client decided it,” Wilhelm objected. “We're just the tool he used to get the job done.”
Argyle snorted at the assassin's reply. “So... that's the way you want to live your life, is it? As someone else's tool? You don't ever think for yourself? You're no more than a puppet, boy.”
“I don't mind being a puppet if I like the puppeteer's story,” Wilhelm said. “I don't know about Vala, but I like a story that ends with a father getting justice for his daughter.”
Vala had a different opinion. “I don't care about stories, I care about money, and I'm not going to let a pisshead preach about morals.” She drew her sword and pointed its tip at Argyle's chin. “Let's get this over with.”
Vala made the first cut. Argyle closed his eyes as her blade carved a line across his forearm, deep enough to draw blood, but not enough to make him scream. When it was Wilhelm's turn, he sank his sword's tip into both of Argyle's shoulders. Even then, the rogue made no sound.
Vala swaggered around his chair as she contemplated her sword's next cut. She said, “I'm not going to commend a man who hurts little girls, but you take your pain well. That's more than I can say for Wilhelm. He cries like a babe when he's cut.”
“I do not!”
“You do, actually. I've heard you whine about the tiniest of scratche
s.” Her blade lashed across Argyle's cheek.
“As if you're any better. The last time you were injured, you were cursing at me as if I was the one who caused it.”
“True enough,” Vala said.
It was Wilhelm's turn, so he pricked the top of Argyle's leg. They went back and forth until Argyle was covered in blood from tip to toe. Their mark never screamed or begged for mercy, and he only showed his pain with minor flinches.
Vala gave her brother a nod and wink, letting him know it was time to put their mark to rest. As she sheathed her sword, Wilhelm made a clean gash across Argyle's throat.
As he observed his victim's final raspy breaths, Wilhelm said, “I wonder what death is like. Do you think the other side is just a big, black nothingness?”
“Hell if I know.” She swatted her brother's arm and pushed him toward the door. “Come on. Let's get back to the ship and leave this mess for someone else.”
“By mess... I assume you mean Argyle's corpse?”
“His corpse and about a tub full of blood.” She was exaggerating, but a fair amount of blood had pooled around Argyle's feet.
On the way to the docks, both assassins were quiet, as they often were when a job was complete. Vala could tell her brother was lost in thought. He was generally more contemplative than she was.
The silence finally ended when Argyle's corpse was far behind them. “You know what I think?” Wilhelm spoke up. “I think... when you die, you're probably greeted by family members who passed away before you. They're there to welcome you to a new world.”
“That's lovely... and so sentimental of you.” Vala lightly cuffed her brother's back. “And if it's true, it's going to be a lonely afterlife for Argyle. I can't imagine anyone would want to greet that nasty bastard.”
Chapter Two
VALA DREW A KNIFE AND checked its blade for stains. Deciding it was clean enough, she used it to pare an apple. The apple's skin made a coil as she peeled, and when it dropped, her brother's dog snapped up the fallen peel and scampered off with his loot.
Her feet, crossed at the ankle, were resting on the table in front of her. Her lips were drawn apart by a yawn, a sign of fatigue from an arduous day.
“Your mutt just made off with my apple peel,” she reported to her brother. “Is he starving or something? When's the last time you fed him?”
Wilhelm was across from her, downing shots of spirits as he shuffled his cards. He was on his second game of solitaire. He would have preferred playing anything else, he could never get his sister to join him for cards. “Giorgio will eat anything,” he quietly replied. “I could feed him all day, and he'd still be on the hunt for scraps.”
“So you say.” While her mouth was full of apple, Vala checked her reflection in her knife's shiny blade. “Do you think that bastard was serious when he said you were prettier than me?”
“Oh my. Are you still thinking about that?”
“Obviously, or I wouldn't have said something about it.”
Vala combed a hand through her hair, which was long on top and shaved on the sides. She dyed it purple—or rather, lavender, since it was such a pale shade. She wanted to stand out, to be recognizable, and her hair and scar provided that. She had big, blue eyes and a sculpted jaw, not unlike her brother. However, Wilhelm was more classically handsome, with soft skin, full lips, and thick blonde hair. Whether it was tidy or tousled, his hair never looked anything less than perfect, and Vala envied him for that. He was the pretty one.
Wilhelm said, “Argyle was an arsehole. He was trying to get under your skin. And he's dead now, so fuck him.”
“Good point.” Vala seized her brother's spirits and tipped the bottle over her mouth, stealing a shot's worth. “So... is it too soon to discuss our next target?”
“It's never too soon. I like coin.”
Vala grinned at his reply. “Well, it looks like our next target will take us pretty far away from our usual stomping ground, but it should be worth it,” she said, sliding a slip of a paper across the table. On it, their target and clients' names were listed. There was also a poorly drawn map, but they had no need for it. The wayspinner always pointed them in the right direction. “This target sounds like a nasty one. He's a slave trader and a smuggler. He even buys and sells children.”
Wilhelm casually replied, “Great. I can't wait to kill him.”
As they were talking, a gaunt man drifted into the room, moving as soundlessly as a specter. His cheeks and eyes were sunken, and his lips were covered in cracks and peeling skin. He wasn't an old man, but it was hard to guess his age when his face was so tired. He was collared like Giorgio, and his clothes were in tatters.
The man said nothing. He stood beside Wilhelm's chair, awaiting a command that never came. The assassins didn't address him, or even acknowledge him with a glance. Had a ghost entered the room, they would have looked equally unaware of its presence.
“You're not a little bit concerned about going to another country?” Vala asked her brother. “They won't know us over there.”
“I know, and I like that. For once, we can be anonymous.”
A second silent man, collared like the first one, sauntered into the room. He carried a silver tray with two cups and a pot of tea. As he poured the tea for Wilhelm and Vala, they didn't cast a glance his way.
Vala said, “According to the information on that page, our target will probably be surrounded by a few of his allies. Our client doesn't mind if we take out a few of those as well, since they're all slave traders.”
“What if they have slaves in their possession when we find them? What do we do with them?” Wilhelm asked.
“I dunno... free the slaves?” suggested a shrugging Vala. “That'd be the honorable thing to do, I guess.”
“You're an assassin who wants to do the honorable thing?” Wilhelm cocked his head at the thought. “Interesting.”
The tea was prepared, so Vala took a noisy sip from her cup. Both silent men stood near their masters' chairs, ready to meet a demand if one was made.
“I think I might take a bath after this,” Vala said. “It's been ages since I've had a proper bath.”
As soon as she spoke, one of her silent servants left the room to prepare a bath. Vala smiled as she watched him leave. Though she rarely interacted with The Silenced, she appreciated their services.
Wilhelm nearly spilled his tea when their ship lurched. A dribble escaped from his cup and landed on his coat, which was held together by patches and haphazard stitching. He was dressed in rags, no better than one of The Silenced. His bowler hat was dusty, and even his breeches were outmoded and worn. He made decent money as an assassin, but cared little about style and posturing.
Wilhelm said, “I think a storm's coming.” Though he spoke of inclement weather, his voice was quiet and calm. “That's why the ship's rocking so much. I think we're sailing right through a storm.”
“Good,” his sister replied, draining the tea from her cup. She downed its entire contents and finished with an “aah.”
“You like sailing through storms?” Wilhelm's voice was as deadpan as the expression on his face.
“Sure. Why not?” Vala slammed her cup on the table and rose from her chair. “Anything that makes life less boring is a good thing.”
Chapter Three
KYLIN SHIELDED HER eyes as she turned her gaze to the sky, where only one child's kite had taken flight. Most of the children had not yet come into their magic, with the exception of Rai, Kylin's younger brother. She shook her head when she saw the telltale smirk on Rai's face. Without question, he had manipulated the wind to get his kite airborne before the rest.
Kylin's magic was stronger than most, and with a flick of a finger, she sent the other kites shooting into the sky. The children marveled and cooed as their kites soared upward, higher than the ancient oaks surrounding them.
“Hey!” Rai, still holding his kite's string, stomped to his sister's side. He stuck out his bottom lip and cried, “You did t
hat, didn't you?”
“Did what?” Kylin played dumb.
“You cheated with wind magic!” Rai accused her. “There's no way those kites would've taken off like that!”
“Is it really a big deal? This isn't a competition to see who can get his kite the highest,” Kylin said. “Besides... you were cheating too.”
“Was not!”
Kylin sighed at her brother's petulance. He might have been approaching maturity, but he was far from mature. “Why are you whining? Twelve is too old to act like this.”
“You're old!” Rai threw an insult at his sister as easily as he breathed. “Emi said you're way too old to not know who your Chosen is!”
Kylin flinched at his brother's attack. He was right. At eighteen, she was the only kitsune in her age group who hadn't found her match. Most of her peers had paired off at fifteen or sixteen, but she was still waiting the feel The Resonance. Rai was intentionally poking at her sorest spot.
“Rai, just... settle down,” his sister begged. “You know, you might actually enjoy something if you didn't have to be the best at everything.”
Emi, overhearing their conversation, abandoned her kite and tugged on Kylin's dress to get her attention. At only eight years old, Emi was easily the youngest oracle in their clan. She wore a diamond-shaped amethyst on her forehead, and it glowed when the spirits whispered their secrets to her.
“I heard what Rai said,” Emi told her. Unlike Kylin's brother, Emi had a lot of poise for a child so young. She had huge, wise eyes and a serene disposition.
“Nothing Rai says is worth hearing,” Kylin replied.
“That isn't true! Everyone deserves to be heard,” Emi corrected her so sweetly, she made Kylin feel sheepish. “Anyway, you shouldn't be discouraged about what Rai said about your Chosen. You should know, you'll be meeting him soon.”
“Really?” Kylin's voice was flat. She wasn't convinced, but it was disrespectful to question an oracle's prophecy. She had been waiting for her Chosen for so long, she doubted He would ever come.
