by T. Isilwath
“Soon, Joanna-sama. Soon you will wake up and I will save you, then we will go off together, you and I, and no one will ever bother us again,” he promised.
It was getting late and the flame in the tallow lamp was about to gutter out.
He folded up the letter and placed it as a marker in the journal to keep track of what page he was on. Then he closed the book and placed it near the head of his bed.
Pulling his own blanket shawl up over his shoulders, he stretched himself out beside his vixen and put a possessive arm around her. She seemed so cold to the touch, so he pressed himself to her side and piled the blankets over them both. There wasn’t much else that he could do as long as she remained unconscious and unable to tell him if she would accept his blood. Until she was able to give her consent, he had no choice but to continue giving her the herbal medicine, and hope that eventually she would wake up long enough to tell him what to do. In the meantime, he snuggled close and shared his body heat with her to keep her warm.
Sleep came slowly, but when it finally did, he slept fitfully and uneasily, his dreams haunted by disturbing images that constantly woke him and sent him urgently checking Joanna for a heartbeat. She was still alive every time he woke up, but he noticed, much to his dismay, that her heart was slowing down even more. His vixen was dying under his very nose, and he didn’t know what to do.
“What do I do? What do I do? Joanna-sama, please. Please wake up and tell me what to do,” he whispered hoarsely, shaking her shoulder.
His vixen did not respond, and his shaking became more desperate.
“Joanna-sama, please.”
For a moment he thought she was going to wake because her body shivered, and he anxiously held his breath, but she only let out a sigh as her head lolled to the side.
‘No…’
Reaching out, he turned to the king tree that sheltered them, placing his hand against one of the gnarled roots that gripped the stone slab above them.
“What do I do?” he asked softly. “Sacred tree, what do I do?”
:Tree-sister fades,: came the sad answer.
“I can’t lose her,” he choked, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks.
:Winter comes to us all.:
“No,” he insisted. “Not her. Not my vixen.” He looked up at the stone slab, trying to see beyond it to the forest and the night sky. “Cougar-sama? Cougar-sama, are you there? Can you hear me? If Joanna-sama was going to die, why lead me to where she was hiding? Why help me find her at all? Why torture me if all I can do is watch her die?” he demanded of the spirit cat.
“Please, if there is a way to save her, please show me how. I beg you.
Please help me. Inari, patron of all kitsune. I know I am a lowly half-breed, unworthy of your favor, but please, I beg you to help me. Please help me save my vixen. Even if I am unworthy, surely Joanna is deserving of your blessings.
Please help me heal her.”
There was no answer from the heavens and he bowed his head. He had known that his prayers were unlikely to be answered. Prayers rarely were. His prayers when his mother lay dying had gone unanswered, and he’d been surprised when the cougar had appeared to him by the waterfall, but he had reasoned that it had happened because the great cat was Joanna’s totem animal. He had hoped beyond hope that the spirit cat would come to his aid again, but it seemed that he was on his own.
He looked down at his wrists, focusing on the blue veins that channeled his half-breed blood through his body.
‘Maybe Cougar-sama won’t help you because you already know the answer. You can save Joanna by giving her your blood.’
How much would it take? A few drops? A full measure? How much would he have to give her to make her open her eyes and smile at him? And once the deed was done, would she ever forgive him? He could save her, yes, but would he lose her forever in the process?
‘Maybe that’s the sacrifice. Either way, I lose her, but would I rather hold her as she dies then take my life after hers, or give her up and be happy knowing that she is alive somewhere even if she isn’t with me?’
Was that the truest way to prove his love? Could he live with himself if he did it? Could he live with himself if he didn’t?
‘She’d be bound to you forever,’ he reminded himself.
‘She could reject you and the bond. Without her consent, would the bond be binding?’ his other half replied.
‘Wouldn’t it? Her consent doesn’t really matter does it? Only in your heart. The blood will work no matter if she agrees or not. And what would she do once the effects wear off? If she rejects you, she will die anyway unless she returns for more.’
‘But would she really reject me? She wrote in her letter how much she loved me. Would she really hate me if I loved her too much to let her die?’
‘And what of her husband-to-be? What will you do if her betrothed comes for her? What will you do then?’
‘What could I do? I could take him to her grave or tell him he’s too late.’
‘Would you fight for her? Would you kill him?’
He felt the fox stir, felt it bear its teeth and snarl. The fox would kill its rival without reservation, but would Joanna let him murder her human lover?
‘She loves Michael. She calls to him in her sleep.’
‘But she called for you too, when she was sick with the fever from the oni-gumo bite. It was you she clung to and reached for when she woke. If given the choice, would she choose him or you?’
‘If given a choice would you choose life or death?’
He clenched his fists, trying to let the pain focus his anguish.
‘If I do it, I betray my honor.’
‘What good will your honor do you if she is dead?’
‘My honor is all that I have.’
‘If you don’t save her, you aren’t worth your father’s blood.’
“Joanna-sama…” he breathed, crawling back to her.
He let his long hair brush against her face as he bent over, placing his nose directly above her mouth and inhaling her faint breath. He didn’t kiss her even though he wanted to because he knew that her lips would be cold and still, not hot and passionate the way he remembered them. Instead he took her hand in his and brought it to his mouth, placing a kiss on her cool palm.
“I’m here, my vixen. I’m with you. Whatever happens, I won’t leave you.” With that he took up vigil, just as he had when his mother took ill. He still didn’t know exactly what he was going to do, but he resolved not to make a decision until he absolutely had no other choice. He sought the quiet, peaceful place centered inside him and breathed into it, trying to settle his ragged nerves. He concentrated on the feel of Joanna’s hand in his and on counting her slow, shallow breaths until nothing else existed.
Finally, in the darkest hours of the night, he was called back from his meditation by a change in her heartbeat. It was faltering, skipping beats, and fluttering weakly. His mother’s heart had sounded the same way right before she had died, and he knew that the time had come.
Joanna wasn’t going to wake up. Even if the medicine he had given her had brought down her blood sugar, whatever affliction she was suffering from had already moved beyond that point. Now was the moment of truth: allow her to die and lose her forever, or force his blood upon her and risk the possibility that she might hate him for it.
He was torn in two, and he desperately wished for a third option; anything that would buy him more time and allow him to find a cure. But deep inside he knew that he’d used up all his chances, and the only thing left for him to try was the one thing he’d sworn he wouldn’t do. In the light of his beloved’s imminent death, the promises that he’d made to himself seemed hollow and empty, as empty as his life would be if he allowed her to die.
The two sides of his mind warred again, each vying for his attention, each clamoring to be the victor. In the end he knew that he really had no choice; that his choice had been made for him on the day he had opened his eyes and found himself
in a hollow underneath a tree with his wounds tended, and a strange woman smiling softly at him. Taking a deep breath, and praying that he was making the right decision, he chose Joanna.
Rolling up his sleeve, he took his wrist and bit down hard enough to puncture the vein. He watched as his blood welled up out of the wound and spilled down his arm, then he reached for Joanna’s limp wrist. His hand shook violently as he pressed the sharp nail of his thumb against her soft, human flesh.
He felt the tip of his claw slice easily through her pale skin, and he grimaced when he smelled the strong, sickly odor of her blood.
He paused, staring numbly at the twin wounds, watching with an odd sort of detachment as his blood and hers dripped onto the bedclothes. His heart was pounding, his body quivering with fine tremors, and he was certain that he was going to be violently ill, but he knew there was no turning back.
‘This is it, Joanna-sama. I have to do this. You’re dying and this is the only way. I pray that you will forgive me for this violation. But even if you hate me for doing this to you, I can find comfort in knowing that I saved you.’
He closed his eyes tight as he raised her wrist to his and prepared to let his blood join with hers…
The shrill noise that broke the heavy silence nearly scared him right out of his skin, and he dropped Joanna’s wrist as he leapt to his feet. He slammed his head heavily into the roof of the hollow when he jumped, and almost knocked himself out. The shrieking continued as he shook away the dizziness and pain, and he began tearing at the blankets as he tried to find the source of the deafening noise. He soon realized that the horrible sound was coming from the grey box around his vixen’s neck. It was also blinking a bright red light in time with the ear-splitting cry.
A memory came back to him of Joanna showing him the box and telling him that it was magic from her time. She had told him that it would make noise when the people from her time had found her, and that she had to go back to the place where she had first fallen on the day she had arrived in his time. She had shown him the place once and told him to bring her there if he should ever hear the box make noise or see it light up on its own. Now it was finally breaking its silence, and that could only mean one thing…
‘They found her. They’ve finally found her!’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Akihiro licked the wound on Joanna’s wrist and sealed the puncture. His own wound had stopped bleeding, and was already beginning to heal, as he wrapped her up in the blankets and pulled her out of the hollow. Once clear of the low ceiling, he picked her up and ran towards the small clearing she had pointed out to him. The box was still blinking and screeching as he raced through the forest, but he blocked it out by flattening his ears against his head.
He saw flashes of very white, bright light as he approached the small field, but he didn’t slow down as he rushed toward it. The lights blinded him when he cleared the trees, and he came to a skidding halt, nearly losing his hold on Joanna. He heard voices and smelled many strange new scents, but his eyes could see nothing but the white light. It took several moments for his vision to clear, but he knew that there were several male humans very close to him, and they were shouting something at him. There was a woman’s voice shouting as well, and he could barely make out what she was saying over the screeching box.
When his eyes finally adjusted, he counted six large, human males all dressed in identical mottled green colored clothing. Three had dark brown skin, something he had never seen on a human before, and all of them were holding things that looked very much like Joanna’s “frash-rite,” only much brighter. He squinted, tears in his eyes, as they advanced on him.
They were shouting at him in harsh, loud voices that he didn’t understand, and he glanced around frantically, his eyes wide, as he clutched his vixen close to his body. The men flanked him on all sides, gesturing menacingly, and he cringed, shying away. The woman was pushing her way towards him, trying to get closer, but the men were carrying large sticks made from black metal. They threatened him with the sticks, waving the narrower ends at him, and he instinctively took a step back, baring his upper teeth.
The woman yelled something and the men retreated a little, but they didn’t put their metal sticks down. He watched warily as she came closer, her hands raised in a universal gesture of truce, and he narrowed his eyes as she approached, waiting to see what she would do. She began to speak in a soft, soothing tone, and he took a step towards her, but the movement triggered another advance by the men. The woman halted them again, waving her hand to keep them back, and he edged forward, keeping his head and tail down.
She spoke again in the calm voice, and he realized that she was speaking English. The accent was off, and it took him a moment for him to work out the words, but the discovery made him relax a little because he could understand some of what she was saying. He decided not to reply, however, because he didn’t want them to know that he could speak. He remembered Joanna telling him that the people of her time were very dangerous, and that he would be at terrible risk if they should ever catch him. He knew that they could save his beloved, but he did not want them to hurt him in the process.
“It’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you. But we need you to put Ms. Tindall down. Do you understand me?” the woman was saying, matching his posture.
“It’s wearing clothes, but it’s got a fucking tail!” one of the men complained.
He turned his head toward the man who had spoken and unflattened his ears, putting them at attention. It was getting easier to understand their speech as he adjusted to the odd way they pronounced their words.
“Shit, look at those ears too!”
He pulled back his lip and snarled.
“Stand down. Soldier, I told you to stand down!” the woman ordered.
He wasn’t sure what the words meant, but she seemed to have some authority because the men looked at her, then took a few steps back as they lowered their metal sticks. He looked down at Joanna’s limp body in his arms and took a faltering step forward. The woman crouched down as he knelt and laid his vixen gently down on the ground. With a gesture he motioned for her to come closer.
The woman came over, and she reached for the blankets wrapped around Joanna’s body. He carefully pulled them back to show her his vixen’s condition and their eyes met. Tentatively, he offered her a small smile and she smiled back. Then he saw her do something with the gray box around Joanna’s neck, and the horrible screeching stopped.
He breathed a sigh of relief and crouched on all fours as the woman pulled something from around her neck. It looked like a rope but it had three ends, one with a metal disk and two with small knobs. He watched her put the two knobs in her ears and place the metal disk on Joanna’s chest. She listened for a moment while he watched, then he saw her pry his vixen’s eye open and shine a bright light into it.
“She’s alive. Heartbeat is slow and erratic. Obtaining a blood glucose measurement now,” the woman said to someone behind her.
For the first time he realized that there was another man with the group.
This one was dressed in white, like the woman, and he was carrying a large, black bag. The man came forward and handed the woman something from the bag. Akihiro recognized it as one of the magic boxes like the one Joanna used to check her blood, and his suspicions were confirmed when the woman pricked Joanna’s finger and dropped a tiny bit of blood onto the magic paper.
He desperately wanted to see what the number was, but he stopped himself because he did not want them to know that he could read.
“Blood glucose is 621,” the woman announced, and he had to smother the whine that caught in his throat.
He hunkered down and lowered his ears again, watching as the woman stuck something small and thin into Joanna’s belly. He hoped that she was giving his vixen medicine to bring down her sugars, then he saw her wrap a thin red rope around Joanna’s arm and stick something else into his vixen, only this time he watched her fill a tube with Joanna�
�s blood.
‘What is she going to do with that?’ he wondered, then his senses snapped to alert as he felt the telltale tingle of other demons approaching.
‘All the light and noise is attracting them,’ he realized.
He kept himself from growling as his instincts urged him to protect his vixen because she was helpless and she needed him to defend her. He cast a furtive glance to the woman in white, trying to decide if he should let the threat come closer or go out to meet it now.
‘This woman is helping Joanna. I need to make sure nothing gets close enough to interfere before she can make my vixen better,’ he reasoned as he eyed the men in mottled clothing warily, especially the one who had made comments about his tail and ears. ‘And I don’t like the smell of those metal sticks either.’
He ventured a gentle brush of his hand across Joanna’s arm, silently trying to offer comfort and reassurance.
‘I’ll be back soon, my vixen,’ he promised, then tucked his tail and backed up, slinking into the trees.
Once he reached the safety of the forest, he turned around and scented the air, trying to pinpoint which direction the threat was coming from. He heard the men say something about his leaving, but the woman told them not to follow him, and for that he was grateful. He didn’t want to have to worry about protecting anyone while he was hunting.
‘Two, coming from the north,’ he determined and turned towards them, intent on cutting them off before they got too close.
Two turned into three, and then four. Scavengers, all of them, and nothing too big or difficult to kill. He dealt with them swiftly, killing them in one or two strikes, and he left the bodies as a warning to anything else that might try to enter his territory. He made a circuit, defining a perimeter that he patrolled several times, and kept his senses on full alert. Swinging back around to the south, he returned to the woods at the edge of the clearing in hopes of finding out how Joanna was doing, and discovered that an intruder had gotten past him.
