Inquest

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Inquest Page 13

by Emily Thompson


  “I suppose,” Twist said with a sigh.

  “Oh, it’ll be no trouble at all, I’m sure,” Myra said brightly to him, patting his hand on the table and spilling her pride and confidence into his Sight. “You can fix anything.”

  Twist smiled to her gratefully. “Thank you, dear.”

  “Can I ask a question now?” Skye asked.

  “Certainly,” Inari answered with a smile.

  “How many tails do you have?”

  Vane choked on his tea and sputtered for a moment before he managed to silence himself. He shot Skye an alarmed glare, while Inari’s smile only deepened.

  “I have nine tails,” she said calmly to Skye.

  “Does that mean that you’re over nine hundred years old?” Skye asked, frowning in thought. “That’s what some of the legends say.”

  “Yes, it does,” Inari answered.

  “You look very young,” Myra remarked, studying Inari’s pale features.

  “Thank you,” Inari returned. “So do you, Princess.” Myra smiled bashfully.

  Twist gave a quiet sigh. The very concept that magical weirdness was something beyond him was beginning to unravel in his mind. There was really no way to know just how many years Myra’s spirit had waited for him in that crumbling palace. She could easily be much older than the nine-tailed fox who could call islands to rise into the sky and kept tea sets up her sleeves. But Myra could never seem strange or unreasonable to Twist. He himself might very well be able to repair a machine that had been built by the very best clockmaker who had ever lived—and allow dragons to travel to the stars—by using his most comfortable skill.

  Sensing Twist’s melancholy, Jonas silently leaned closer and laid a hand on his shoulder to wash his attention in cool, white calm. Twist used the borrowed peace to affirm a new thought to himself. If his chosen love, his closest friend, and his own nature were all inherently strange and reminiscent of magic, then strange, magical things should be as familiar to him as his own breath. And maybe, with enough practice and support, he could manage to actually believe so one day. It would only be through adaptation that his sanity could ever survive.

  The sun began to set slowly over the vast, sparkling ocean as the island flew silently north, cruising at roughly a thousand feet above the waves. Twist abandoned all questions of how the hulking landmass was staying aloft, as there were no balloons, uplifting propellers, or even engines of any kind that he could identify. He also tried to ignore the fact that there was no clear source of propulsion either, while the island seemed to be moving at a rather quick pace—judging by the delightful way that the pink-blossomed trees swayed playfully in the wind.

  Instead, he bent his will on cultivating a sense of calm. Things had grown so far outside of his control that it really would be silly to take any of it seriously anymore. If the mythical, impossible, and powerful beasts threatened him directly, he would naturally attempt to defend himself no matter the odds. But if they only wished to whisk him away on a flying island and then ask him to mend some clockwork, then why should he object?

  Skye, meanwhile, seemed to have fully recovered from her ordeal. The moment Inari left them to attend to themselves—Vane and Myra getting up to gaze out over the city and chat happily about what they saw—Skye got to her feet and moved to the edge of the room. She pulled the little watch that hung around her neck up to her mouth and spoke urgently to it in hushed tones. Jonas gave a sigh, watching her. He leaned closer to Twist where they sat together at the low table.

  “She doesn’t learn, does she?” he muttered to Twist.

  Twist shook his head. “Nothing that woman does makes any sense to me at all.” Jonas smiled at him patronizingly. “All right, if you know so much, then tell me why she was angry with you for being a gentleman earlier and taking care of her after she fainted?”

  “She wasn’t really angry,” Jonas said instantly, as if it should be obvious. “She was only embarrassed about looking weak.”

  Twist paused for a moment to consider this concept. “But…why should she feel embarrassed by that?” he asked Jonas, leaning close to whisper. “I mean, she is a member of the ‘weaker sex’ after all, isn’t she?”

  Jonas broke into a startled laugh. “Oh, I dare you to say that to her face,” he said, grinning wickedly at Twist. Twist frowned, not even trying to tame his confusion. “Listen, Twist,” Jonas said, laying an arm across his shoulders. “It’s not your fault. You’re a victim of your time and culture. Now that you’re out here in the real world, you’re going to have to learn some new things. I want you to take everything you know about women, everything that happens in silly English novels, and everything you’ve been told by men of your station. Put that all in a box and label it ‘Myra.’ Then, take out a fresh piece of paper and start from scratch on the rest of the world’s women.”

  Twist listened to him with a highly skeptical expression. “And why is Myra exempt?” he asked, glancing to her as she gave an excited giggle at something Vane had said.

  “She’s a godsend to you,” Jonas said earnestly. “That girl’s a typical princess to her core.”

  “Skye certainly doesn’t act like a princess,” Twist conceded.

  “Skye’s a circus clown,” Jonas said with a shrug, taking his arm back now. “And a magpie. And American. And ginger. All bets are off where Skye’s concerned.”

  “Saying nice things about me?” Skye asked, returning to the table with a sour expression.

  “Always, love,” Jonas said, smiling brightly. “What else is there to say?”

  Skye looked to Twist. “Do I need to slap him?” she asked with a nod to Jonas.

  While Vane and Myra came closer curiously, Jonas put on a dismayed expression, looking to Twist pitifully. Twist struggled to understand why the buzzing sensation in his neck burned so clearly with Jonas’s delight, in this of all situations.

  “No, I don’t think you should,” he said seriously to Skye. “I’m disturbed to say that I think he might enjoy it if you did. Don’t give him the satisfaction.” Skye grinned broadly at Twist, while Jonas mocked his offense. Vane looked at Jonas, confused.

  “Damned stuffy little dandy,” Jonas grumbled, shoving at Twist’s shoulder with his palm.

  “Know-it-all sky pirate,” Twist grumbled back, straightening his posture. Jonas chuckled while Twist noticed a sudden rush of joy in the buzz at his neck, once again. Twist consoled himself that it was likely best to let Jonas be happy, whatever the cause.

  “Oh!” Myra toned, clasping her hands happily. “It’s so nice to have everything back to normal again.” While Twist smiled at Myra’s comment, realizing instantly that she was actually correct, Vane knelt down close to Jonas.

  “Is that what I have to do?” he asked Jonas softly. “You like to be in trouble? Would you like me more if I got angry at you?”

  “I don’t like you at all,” Jonas answered instantly. “I would love it if you got angry enough to give me the silent treatment.”

  Vane gave a heavy sigh.

  Twist took Myra’s hand when she looked sympathetically at Vane. He drew her quickly into conversation and managed to distract her for long enough to forget about Vane entirely. They and the others fell into a lazy atmosphere as they had nothing to do but wait until they reached their destination.

  Noticing that all of the kitsunes in the village wore Japanese-style dress, Myra decided to change into the pink-and-white flower-patterned red cotton robe she had bought in Tokyo. Skye agreed to help her arrange the item into the proper shape, though Vane offered to help and was instantly refused. Myra soon emerged from behind the curtain, smiling proudly as she tied her long hair up in a casual shape, revealing her slender neck. When she asked Twist how she looked, he offered easy praise.

  Before Twist knew it, the sky began to darken and the hours had begun to tumble by in the pretty little village, unnoticed.

  When night began to fall, a handful of kitsunes in brightly colored kimonos came to invite Twist and
his companions to join them for refreshments. Vane accepted instantly and urged the others to follow. Myra turned anxiously to Twist, clearly wishing him to accept as well. Having little else with which to pass the time anyway, Twist went along with the others, causing Myra to give a happy cheer.

  A small grove of pink-flowered trees nestled together to one side of the jungle, under the soft, silver light of a remarkably full moon in the deep twilight sky. Large blankets had been lain out under the gently swaying branches, where a fair number of the village’s inhabitants sat chatting or lying casually in groups. Jonas nudged Twist as they approached, pointing to wooden pails that the foxes passed between them. He smiled brightly in response to Twist’s questioning glance.

  When they reached the edge of the pool of blankets, one of the kitsunes asked them to remove their shoes before they took their seats. Vane slipped out of his sandals without a moment’s hesitation, leaving them at the edge of the blankets, among a large number of other discarded wooden sandals. Twist grumbled slightly at the troublesome custom, but Myra, Skye, and Jonas simply complied.

  They then sat down together in an empty space near one of the slender, smooth, gray tree trunks. Twist looked up through the blossoms at the brilliant silver moon and could scarcely believe he wasn’t dreaming. The way that the light glittered off the edges of the tiny pink flowers was entirely unreal, falling gently through the branches like cool silver rain and filling the tranquil scene with whispering shadows. Even with the star-studded velvet sky around the moon, there was somehow still plenty of light to see by.

  Myra clapped her copper hands happily, gazing up at the flowers around them in wonder. “Oh, it’s so pretty!” she gasped.

  “Is that snacks?” Skye asked suddenly, pointing to a group of kitsunes who sat around a grated fire at the far edge of the blankets.

  “It sure smells like something nice,” Jonas mentioned.

  “I’ll go check it out,” Skye said, already on her feet and heading toward the fire.

  A moment later, a fox-girl with pale skin, black eyes, long silver hair, and a lavender kimono that was patterned with yellow and blue blossoms knelt down close beside Jonas. She smiled to him brightly and held out a small, shallow, porcelain dish to him.

  “Would you like to drink?” she asked, smiling as she tilted her head to one side; her pair of white-tipped, bushy gray tails curled playfully around her. Twist was startled to notice that her voice had a remarkably pleasant note to it, and her smile was simply lovely to behold.

  “Oh, yes, thank you,” Jonas responded, his bright blue gaze flitting over her without meeting her eyes.

  The fox-girl snatched the dish away when Jonas reached for it, and her smile took on a wicked shade. “Then give me a kiss,” she purred softly to him.

  Twist’s eyes widened in shock. He saw a slight blush bloom on Jonas’s face and felt a sudden heat in the buzz at his neck. Jonas held back his smile as he paused. Then he gave a small shrug and turned to the girl with his eyes closed. The fox giggled brightly when he placed a kiss on her check, but she moved quickly when he pulled away. She caught him with a gentle touch and stole a kiss from his lips before he could protest. Twist felt a wave of surprise and heady delight rush through the buzz in his neck before Jonas was finally released from the girl’s touch.

  She giggled again and gave him the little dish before she turned to look at Twist. Panic bloomed swiftly in Twist’s mind, rushing down his spine in a chill. As delightful as the fox-girl might look, the thought of being made to touch her sent his heart pounding. Before he could voice any of his fears, Myra moved to block her gaze, placing a protective hand on Twist’s knee, her emotions taut and warning against his Sight.

  “Thank you,” Myra said tightly, holding out her other hand to the fox. The fox-girl seemed somewhat disappointed—glancing between Twist and Myra knowingly—but gave Myra a little dish without comment or any sort of trade.

  “I’d happily give you a kiss,” Vane purred to the fox.

  “Oh, what a cute little cub,” the fox-girl said, smiling to Vane as she drew closer.

  She accepted a swift kiss on her cheek—but nothing else—in payment for another little dish. She then got back to her feet and drifted off into the shadows to join the other kitsunes, leaving a barrel-like pail behind. Vane took the flat top off of the pail and pulled out a little bamboo ladle that was inside. He used it to pour a clear liquid into Jonas’s offered dish and then into the one that Myra held before filling his own. Jonas drank the mouthful of liquid in one go and let out a happy sigh.

  “I’m starting to like foxes,” he said brightly, holding out his dish to Vane to be filled again.

  “How come you never like to kiss me, Jon?” Vane asked in a sulk as he filled the dish Myra handed to him.

  “You’re not cute enough,” Jonas muttered dismissively, sipping at his dish again. Vane gave a mournful sigh and sipped at his own dish.

  “What is this?” Twist asked, sniffing at the faint sweet scent of alcohol that wafted up from the liquid in the dish Myra had given him.

  “Sake,” Jonas answered. “It’s not unlike white rum. Go ahead, Twist. I think you’ll like it.”

  Twist took a tentative sip as he wondered mildly why they weren’t drinking from cups or glasses instead of these shallow little dishes. The taste struck him first as subtle and sweet but then suddenly changed to a sharp and biting heat as he swallowed. He shuddered against the alien feeling while a ghost of coolness at the back of his tongue finished the flavor. Jonas chuckled lightly and patted Twist on the back.

  “Good boy,” he encouraged.

  “Yaki tori?” Skye asked as she returned with a collection of little wooden skewers that each held a few bits of what smelled enticingly like fire-grilled chicken. Vane made a happy tone and took one eagerly, and then Jonas did as well.

  “What is this?” Twist asked, taking one carefully so as not to touch Skye in the process.

  “Grilled bird,” Jonas answered Twist.

  Vane chucked softly but made no effort to correct him. Twist looked at Jonas sideways. Perhaps he should be careful not to drink his sake too quickly. It seemed quite potent.

  “Yaki means grilled, and tori means bird,” Jonas supplied patiently. “So, it’s grilled bird.”

  “You know, I never thought of it like that,” Skye said through a light laugh.

  “Yeah, that’s close enough,” Vane agreed with a shrug as he nibbled at his own skewer.

  Twist reminded himself gently that he was going to try to accept things as they came to him. He tried a tentative bite of his grilled bird and found it to be quite lovely. Other little grilled bits of food on sticks appeared randomly—mostly thanks to Myra now joining Skye in exploratory missions into the crowd around them—while Vane happily kept all of their little dishes full of sake. Twist found himself growing emboldened over time to try the new little tastes and realized absently that he’d lost count of how many times Vane had filled his dish.

  It wasn’t long before the kitsunes around them moved closer to join their conversation and explore their own curiosity. Though some remained silent and merely watched with endless, large, inhuman eyes, many of the foxes spoke and acted in flirtatious ways with Twist and the others—apparently utterly unconcerned with gender on either side of the interchange. Twist was, however, comforted to see that requests for more physical contact rarely arose.

  While Twist, Jonas, and Skye each drew a fair amount of attention, Myra quickly became the topic of discussion. Many of the foxes reached out to touch her shining metal skin, showering her in wonder and awe. Myra gobbled up the attention eagerly, while Twist quietly tried to stay out of the way. He smiled to watch her so enjoy a situation that he himself would loathe. Eventually, the foxes’ interest was sated well enough to allow the groups to drift back to their own corners of the space under the trees.

  While the stars turned slowly overhead and the blossoms continued to sway heavenly above them in the refreshingly coo
l breeze, the silver moon never seemed to move. It watched over all of the happily lounging kitsunes with a loving light. When Twist slipped into a lazy posture, half reclining on one elbow with his legs stretched out to the side, Myra insisted on acting as his pillow. She let him lean back in her lap and held him gently in her copper arms, while she made certain that all of the little skewered treats he liked the best were constantly available to him.

  Jonas and Vane both seemed to relax as they recounted pleasant memories of when they had been shipmates together on Quay’s crew. Skye listened with rapt attention and asked all the right questions to keep them talking. Twist smiled as he listened to their adventures and laughed when, remembering moments of annoyance that Vane had caused, Jonas tossed frivolous curses and threats of revenge at the fox. Vane touted his innocence diligently but occasionally insinuated that he rather enjoyed being chased. He was, after all, faster than Jonas and so was rarely in true danger.

  Twist quietly marveled at this odd sense of playful comradery that he now saw between them. Feeling rather sleepy and peaceful at the moment, Twist had trouble coming up with a reason why he’d never seen it before. Thinking back, he could easily remember many times when Jonas had clearly stated that he hated the fox. But then again, he’d also said that he hated his family. It was only through blind luck and deep familiarity that Twist had learned how much Jonas truly cared for the members of the Vimana’s crew.

  Twist’s eyelids grew heavy, and he couldn’t find a reason to keep them open. He let his eyes close as he continued to listen to his friends, while Myra held him in a fog of pleasantly warm thoughts. It felt like delicious ages before Twist realized that he was dreaming: lying easily on the surface of a warm, calm, dark sea, under a purple sky full of colorful stars, while the enormous silver moon watched over him and sang to him softly.

 

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