So Fey: Queer Fairy Fiction

by Christopher Barzak

  Tully shook his head. "I don't want no debts between us, Judge."

  "No," Mr. Seeley said. "No debts. You earned what you have."

  It was another test, Tully was sure of that, as sure as he'd ever been of anything. He racked his brain, snatches of songs and stories roiling through him. "Do I have your word on it?" He didn't know where the words had come from, but he knew in his soul that they were the right ones.

  "You've taught him well, Joe," Mr. Seeley said.

  "No." Joe stepped to Tully's side, and Tully slanted a nervous glance at him. Joe looked--himself again, a bit tired, maybe, and who could blame him, but the visions in the mirror were gone. "I didn't have to tell him."

  "You're a very lucky man, Joe Farr," Mr. Seeley said. "Very well, Mr. Swann. No debts between us. You have my word on it."

  Tully lowered the shotgun, but kept it ready, just in case. Mr. Seeley nodded once, a polite good night, and turned away. The fog swirled back around him, and a moment later, the first set of headlights swung away. A second followed, then a third and a fourth. Their taillights glowed red, and slowly disappeared into the fog, the engine noise fading with them like an echo.

  "Well, now," Joe said, on a sigh, and Tully touched his shoulder, glad to feel solid flesh and bone beneath the fine wool. Cal leaned on the roof of the car, head down for an instant like a man praying, but then he straightened as much as he was able.

  "Getting toward morning, sir." Tully nodded. "Let's go home."

  Melissa Scott was born and raised in Little Rock, Arkansas, and studied history at Harvard College and Brandeis University, where she earned her PhD. in the comparative history program. She has won the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer as well as several Lambda Literary Awards in SF/Fantasy/Horror. She lives on the New Hampshire seacoast.

  Year of the Fox

  Eugie Foster

  In the lush countryside of the Middle Kingdom, a family of huli jing, fox spirits, hunted, danced, and barked their musical laughter. One night, as Master Sun turned his face away from the land, and Mistress Moon drew a glittering veil of clouds and stars over herself, Mother Fox sat her children down to explain to them the way of enlightenment.

  "Foxes are by nature a bit wicked," she said. "We delight in tricks and thefts, for our paws are silent and our minds quick. But it is one thing to charm a bird into one's jaws and quite another to revel only in mischief. For while we are greatly tempted, likewise great is our reward if we are virtuous."

  Mei, the vixen cub, sat with one ear swiveled to Mother and the other distracted by a fearless moth. "Mama," she said, "what kind of reward? You mean a juicy rabbit or succulent egg?"

  "No, no. A reward better than earthly delights."

  Jin, the male cub, chewed at a burr caught between the pads of one paw. "What could be better than an egg?"

  Mother barked, high and sharp. "Listen, my children, for you are almost grown! Enlightenment is your reward for being good foxes. It is the pathway into heaven whereupon we escape this wheel of mortality. Otherwise we are doomed to return again and again after we die, redressing the wrongs we have committed."

  Mei leaped up, her jaws snapping shut around the moth. She licked her muzzle. "I'm hungry, Mama, when will we go hunting?"

  Mother cuffed her. "Pay attention, cub. Have I ever taught you wrongly? Was it not I who showed you how to listen for mice tramping about underground?"

  Mei sulked. "Yes, Mama."

  "And was it not I who taught you to find crunchy beetles among the rotting logs?"

  "Yes, Mama."

  "So heed me."

  "But my belly rumbles," Mei whined.

  "You must learn to rule yourself, or you will never earn enlightenment."

  "May we not earn enlightenment on full bellies?" Jin asked, rolling on his back to show that he was an obedient son.

  Despite his display of respect, Mother growled. "Very well. I will bring something back to stuff in your greedy maws. But you must wait here so your clumsy paws do not prolong the chase."

  Both cubs meekly bowed their heads.

  Mistress Moon trod the arch of heaven, her veil sometimes modestly concealing her face, and sometimes slipping shamelessly. The fox cubs, peeping from the entrance of their den, watched her erratic display unperturbed, for they knew she was inconstant and fickle. But she seemed particularly leisurely that night, dawdling to gossip with the celestial fires and flirting with the wind.

  "Where is Mother?" Jin finally asked. "My belly is so empty I think it has started eating itself!"

  Mei rose to her paws. "She has been gone too long. If we wait much longer, I will surely die."

  Without Mother's guiding nips and sharp eyes to curb them, the cubs grew giddy with freedom. They frisked beneath the stars, admiring how Mistress Moon turned their russet fur silver, and splashed in winking streams that trilled songs of adventure and secrets in the burbling language of shui, water.

  Laughing, her tongue lolling to the side, Mei froze mid-bark, all four paws rigid in the earth. A familiar scent had darted past her nose--one of comfort, warmth, and home. It drew her, straight as hunger, to a still puddle of softness, hidden beneath a leering hedge.

  "Jin, I found her! Mama, Mama, we've been looking for you!"

  But Mother did not move. She did not yip a welcome, even when her cubs scampered to her side.

  "Mama?"

  She lay at a strange angle, most unnatural. Her neck bent backward and the smell of blood was thick in the air. Mei nudged her with her nose. She saw in the moonlight a shining glint that encircled her throat. It cut through thick fur and flesh. Leaning close, she saw that Mother's back was broken, and most horrible of all, where her tail had been, proud and lush, there remained only a bloody stump.

  Mei skittered back, rubbing her face in the cool earth, as though that would cleanse the sight from her mind. "We need to leave here. It is a place of death."

  "What do you mean? Mother is asleep."

  "She is dead. A fox hunter's trap ended her life, and a fox hunter's knife took her tail."

  A trembling seized Jin from ears to paws. "Dead? No, she cannot be dead. Just this night she was lively and spry."

  "Much can happen between twilight and dawn. Come away."

  Jin began to cry, his howls piercing the night. Mei tilted her head back and joined him in his fox song of mourning.

  ---

  Brother and sister lived together for a while in a shallow scrape, a burrow they had stolen from a family of rabbits after spreading panic and havoc through their community. There they plotted revenge with eyes that glowed yellow in the night.

  "It is humans who killed her," Jin said. "A senseless, cruel death. They did not wish for her flesh to eat, but rather coveted her fine tail."

  "Foxes may be wicked, but humans are evil," Mei agreed.

  "I hate all of them. I will bring them down in their pride and folly. In the name of our mother, I swear it."

  "I too," Mei said. "We will wreak madness and despair upon those who dare to think foxes may be conquered by cowardly snares!"

  "I will turn myself into a handsome youth," said Jin, "and lure a holy monk from his sanctuary with cries for help. Then I will trick him with my magic into thinking a goat is holy. He will anoint it with precious oil and bow down before it. How I will laugh when I clear the magic from his eyes and he learns that he has been worshipping a foul goat!"

  "That is nothing," Mei said. "I will turn into a beautiful maiden and make some unsuspecting man fall in love with me, or better yet, some unsuspecting lady. Think how dismayed they will be when I reveal my true fox shape!"

  Jin bared his teeth in glee. "Such wonderful sport. We will prove ourselves to be the most cunning, the most sly foxes in all the Middle Kingdom. It will make our mother laugh as she watches from the lap of Buddha. Let us meet back here in a year to share the tales of our adventures."

  Mei watched as her brother used huli jing glamour to shed his red-gold fur in lieu of a silk robe o
f malachite green with wide sleeves that swept the ground. Tawny streaks of embroidered lightning crisscrossed his back, outlined in gold and carmine threads. His face, without its fur, was still pointed, with a sharp chin and tapered ears. His eyes were wide and dark, as mysterious as the night sky, and they glowed, giving his fox nature away.

  "Better avoid their torches," Mei said. "Or they will realize you are not one of them from the fire of your gaze."

  Jin frowned, displeased that his disguise was less than perfect. "Aren't you going to change shape?"

  "I will choose my form after I have stalked my prey," she said. "To better savor the joys of the hunt."

  "As you will." Jin lifted his arm in farewell as Mei dashed away. "Remember, one year from today!"

  Mei flicked her tail in acknowledgement.

  ---

  The maiden wore a coarse, roughly woven shen-i. Her name was Lian, which meant "graceful willow." Mei thought it was a most fitting name, for though her tunic was drab brown hemp belted with a simple cord, and the skirt was tattered and threadbare, Lian might have been wearing the finest brocade. She moved as though she were a princess in the imperial palace, each step as lithe as a dancer's, with a calm serenity that rivaled a priest's.

  She lived with two elderly servants, Chen and Ping, a man and woman so ancient the only indication of their sex was their attire. Whether sewing, cooking, or weaving, Lian went about the day's chores with a glad and merry heart. At night, when the lanterns blossomed to life, she read aloud from slender books of poetry and proverbs, or practiced calligraphy.

  Mei watched her from a nest of bamboo in the forest that surrounded the mud and straw hut. When she hungered, she stalked mice and beetles, swallowing down the tiny sparks of their lives in a fierce snap of her jaws. Though Mistress Moon and her attendant stars tempted her to dance beneath them, she stayed still, not wishing to alert her quarry that huli jing lingered near.

  A pure soul such as Lian was fine game. Foxfire visions to trouble her dreams would strip the tranquility from her mien, and barking demon shapes with dripping fangs that lunged and tore at her from the shadows would shatter her composure. Mei grinned.

  One night, as the vixen contemplated the particulars of her strategy, she heard rustling in the bamboo forest. Curious, as all foxes are, she looked to see who approached.

  The stench of the interloper assailed her delicate nose. He was unwashed and rank, smelling of night soil, fermented rice, and blood. Over his shoulder was a dingy sack with many rents in it, and in his hands, a curious curl of wood linked at the ends by sinew. A long fang lay upon the string. Mother fox had taught her about human surrogate teeth so Mei understood its purpose, although she found the details of its operation perplexing.

  She crept from her hiding place and joined herself to the man's shadow.

  It was obvious this man was a villain, a bandit who preyed upon the unsuspecting. The vixen fretted. All her planning would go to naught if this man despoiled Lian in her stead. Still, the world was wide and full. Would it not be easier to find other prey to torment than to intervene?

  While Mei vacillated, the bandit pushed open the hut's flimsy door. He drew upon the sinew with its long tooth until it sang with tension. At the movement, his sack shifted, and a portion of what it contained spilled out: a fox's tail.

  This man was both a bandit and a fox hunter!

  Mei barked in fury. At her outcry, she heard stirring within the hut. The man swung to Mei, his fang now pointed at her. But she had seen how he moved and was confident she was quicker. She leaped, sinking her teeth into his leg, and the next moment, his false tooth hurtled faster than Mei thought possible. It tore into her side. She had scarce moments for surprise before night slammed his fists closed around her.

  As the world spun away, Mei wondered what Jin would do when she was not there at their appointed meeting.

  ---

  Mei had not expected to open her eyes again, at least not in this world, perhaps on celestial Mount Tai where souls ascended after they died. So she was surprised to take in Lian's room. She lay on the maiden's bed, bundled in a straw blanket. She recognized the low table with its calligraphy brushes and the thin books stacked beside it.

  Mei's side was wrapped with clean bandages and smelled of herbs and medicine. It pained her greatly. The blood flow had stopped and there was no scent of corruption from the wound, but she was weak as a newborn cub. She could barely swivel her ears.

  She wasn't dead. Why?

  As though in answer, Lian entered, pushing aside the ragged curtain. The maiden bowed when she saw Mei's eyes upon her. She held a bamboo tray upon which sat a bowl of clear water and a bowl of congee, rice porridge.

  How, mused Mei, could a creature with only two legs move with such grace?

  "Mistress Fox, I see you are awake. Please be at ease, exquisite one. You are not well and should lie still." Lian folded to her knees beside the bed. "You must be hungry and thirsty. There is a little fish in the porridge, and the water is fresh. It would do you good to eat and drink."

  Lian set the bowl of congee under Mei's nose. The savor of clean, sweet rice and the delicate aroma of broiled fish made her mouth moist with yearning.

  The maiden lifted a pair of chopsticks from the tray and used them to offer Mei a ribbon of fish.

  The vixen accepted the tidbit. It was delightful. Her belly clamored for her to gobble the whole bowl as fast as she might, but she had better manners. She let Lian feed her, and forced herself to chew each mouthful slowly before swallowing. Between bites, Lian offered Mei sips of water from the bowl.

  "You are a most mannerly fox," she said. "Chen and Ping said you would growl and snap, but I knew you would be courteous. After all, why would you save us from a bandit one moment and then bite off my hand the next?"

  Mei was strangely reluctant to disillusion Lian of her courtly fox notions, so she accepted the water without baring her fangs, and she let Lian run her fingers through her coat. And when the maiden cuddled Mei in her arms, soothing away fever and cold with the comfort of her body, Mei did not even contemplate nipping her.

  One night, when the moon was a sickle of silver shining against the darkness, Mei waited for Lian's breath to slow in the deepness of Lord Sleep's realm. Her wound no longer troubled her, and she was shamed she had allowed herself to fall into the care of her enemy. She ran from the hut on secret paws and hid herself in a thicket of bamboo.

  That night, Mei plied the stuff of spirit glamour, taking upon herself the shape of a noble lady. She gazed with pleasure upon the smooth skin of her white hands, delicate as nesting doves. A pien-fu took the place of her lustrous fur. Its loose folds of crimson wrapped her body, secured with a rippling, pink sash. The tunic of silk spilled to her knees, and the matching skirt was modest, long enough to conceal her tiny feet. A tasteful pattern of storm clouds adorned the cloth, embroidered with cream threads, highlighted in damson.

  Conjuring false tears as easily as her false shape, she stumbled to Lian's doorstep.

  She beat at the flimsy barrier and called piteously. "Help me, oh, help me! Won't someone have mercy on me?"

  Immediately, Mei was rewarded by the sound of commotion from within. Lian herself swung open the door, and Mei dropped to her knees. She let the curtain of her glossy, jet-black hair fall so it covered her face.

  With fox-born artistry, she allowed Lian to spy the liquid gleam of her eyes through the cascading strands of darkness. From such mysterious gazes, Mei knew, were human hearts beguiled.

  "Oh, kind mistress," she wailed. "My escort was ambushed by a band of rogues. They killed my servants, and I had to flee for my life. I have been lost in the forest. Please help me!"

  Without waiting for Lian to reply, for she knew the maiden would never turn such a pitiful traveler away, Mei crumpled in a pile at her feet.

  "Chen, Ping!" Lian summoned her servants to help her carry the swooning lady inside. They arrayed Mei on Lian's bed (a familiar establishment for the vi
xen), and Chen and Ping fluttered about, brewing tea and lighting incense.

  Lian dabbed cool water on Mei's wrists and forehead. When Mei sensed her bending near, she opened her eyes.

  "Beautiful maiden," she whispered, "you are my savior. I am forever in your debt." Mei bridged the tiny space between them and pressed her lips to Lian's.

  The girl pulled away in surprise.

  Mei hid her face in the voluminous folds of her sleeve. "Did I offend you?" She peeked one eye out, and was pleased to see Lian's face was soft with wonder.

  "It was only--unexpected. You are safe now, Mistress. Please do not be afraid. Although there are evil men about, we are smiled upon by good fortune."

  "Do evil men come here often?" Mei pretended to quail behind her sleeve.

  "Not at all. In the many years I have lived here, a bandit has only threatened once."

  "What happened?"

  "A fox protected us."

  "A fox?"

  "Indeed, she barked and bit the rogue. While he reeled about with her jaws upon him, I hit him on the head with a saucepan."

  A saucepan? Mei pushed aside the laughter that threatened to bubble from her chest. "You are so brave. I feel so feeble beside you."

  "You are a refined orchid, mistress. The notion of bandits sullying you with their stinking presence makes me wish I might have more than a saucepan to fight them with."

  Mei flung herself into Lian's arms. "You mustn't call me 'mistress.' You are as a sister to me. Call me Mei."

  Lian clasped the vixen close. "I am Lian, Mei, and I have always longed for a sister."

  In the following days, as she lay, ostensibly sick and wan, Mei found ways to display glimpses of her white flesh to her hostess: an ankle slipped from beneath her hem, the alluring shadow of her breasts covered by thin silk. At these exhibits, Lian always discreetly lowered her eyes, but Mei knew she had fascinated her. She spied Lian many times gazing rapt beneath the fan of her eyelashes.