Inochi

By Linda

Chapter 14

Although guards poured in from all areas of the compound, drawn by both the explosion and the frantic ringing of the alarm bell, I saw that it would be an utter rout. It wasn’t that the guards were not well trained, or skilled, because they were. But they had been trained to put down slave uprisings, not to fight against a force both non-human and much more ferocious than they were, and so pitted against kitsune warriors, they looked like untrained children. The kitsunes were both stronger and faster than humans---they whirled through the courtyard like the fierce winds of winter, and as cold and sharp as ice crystals. They laughed as they killed, completely without remorse.

Their war cries made the hair stand up at the back of my neck, spidered down my spine; they made me both fearful and somehow, in that kitsune part buried deep within me, proud. The human part of me watched in horror; I thought I’d seen violence before, but never, ever had it been like this. I couldn't seem to see the whole battle, but rather, little parts of it, captured like pictures. An ookami leaping high and coming down with a whoop, his katana cleaving a guard from shoulder to waist, the pieces of his body falling away from one another like cut fabric. A kitsune laughing as he slammed his sword deep into a guard's belly and pulled upward; the man's blood fountained out and his scream stopped abruptly as the sword cut through vocal cords before the kitsune pulled it free. Steel flashed like lightning, and blood sprayed in vivid scarlet arcs through the air, lay on the courtyard in darkly glittering pools. The smell of it, sweet and coppery and cloying, coated the inside of my nose and the back of my throat, and I had to breathe through my mouth to cut the scent.

Genichi made a gagging sound, and I turned him away from the sight, though I could not stop the scent. Something sped by me in a flash of light; I heard a sharp thunk, and turned to see a knife buried into the wood of a post just to my right, the blade still quivering slightly.

Instantly I dropped, pulling Genichi with me, putting him up against the house and shielding him with my body as best I could. My heart pounded; in all the chaos, it would be so easy to find myself spitted on a blade. Or Genichi; a hard shudder passed over me at that realization. I could not even allow myself to think of Genichi hurt. Whatever else happened, Genichi had to live, had to escape. Nothing else mattered.

Xiu tore by me in a blue blur, almost too quickly for the eye to follow. She dove into the fight, and I saw her seize a kodachi, or short sword, from a fallen kitsune, and lay into the guards. Her speed was her protection, her shield; she was like a streak of lightning across a cloudy sky, and just as deadly, though her violence was wholly purposeful, not random. If I’d thought her nonhuman before, I could not deny it now, watching her move; I had never seen anyone, not even Kin’iro, move so quickly.

“You knew, didn’t you, you little bastard?” Soujuro’s voice broke over me like a storm, and I looked up to see him standing over me, his handsome face twisted ugly and fearful in anger. I yelped as he grabbed me by the hair and pulled me away from the wall, leaving Genichi exposed and vulnerable; he was surprisingly strong. “You knew this would happen!”

I didn’t answer because it was pointless to deny it, and he shook me until my teeth rattled, his eyes gone as hard as a flint stone. From somewhere, from someone, he’d gotten a katana, and he brought the blade up to strike. Light caught on the razored edge, a shimmering white blue flash. Too panicked to even make a squeak of sound, I struggled; I didn’t want to die yet, not before Genichi was safe, and from the expression on his face, I knew he would kill me.

“Soujuro!” The voice was Xiu’s, calm and scarcely winded. Soujuro and I both turned our heads to look at her. She stood a sword’s length away, her own blade threaded with blood, dripping in fat red drops onto the veranda, and her white clothing splattered with the same. None of it, I thought, was hers; she was simply too fast. “Soujuro, if you want an opponent, then face me.”

With Soujuro’s attention turned to Xiu for a moment, I saw my opening. I twisted and bit his arm, just above the wrist; his skin was pale and soft beneath the heavy silk of his sleeve. My canine teeth sliced into skin, and I tasted the salty, coppery sharpness of blood on my tongue. He hissed and released me, and as he did, I dove for Genichi, scooped him up, and leapt off the veranda and into the yard. I hugged his slim body tightly to me, and he wrapped his arms about my neck with equal strength.

I had never been one to pray very much, but I sent up prayers to Inari, the kitsune’s god, hoping that somehow, he would listen to me, as so many of his children were now here. Caught between Soujuro’s blade and the fray behind me, I could only hope that we could stay out of harm’s way until it was over.

A terrible smile crossed Soujuro’s face, and he went into a stance that seemed to prove my thought that he had been in the army or at least knew how to handle a blade; it looked very natural in his hand. Xiu grinned back, unholy glee in her pale eyes. She beckoned to him, her whole attitude confident and insolent.

“Come catch me, you perfumed sadist,” she taunted. “Come see if you can do to me what you do to those helpless before you. But beware...~I~ fight back.”

Soujuro took one step forward, then froze, as did Xiu. I could see Xiu more clearly from where I stood, and watched as the glee faded from her small sharp-chinned face, as it turned serious, then as anger blossomed, white-hot in her eyes. I took a step forward and to the side, though still out of reach of Soujuro’s blade.

And then I saw why they’d gone motionless. A figure stood in the doorway, though standing wasn’t really appropriate; he leaned against the doorway, knuckles white against his pale skin. I suspected that pride alone kept him on his feet.

“Kin’iro-san,” Genichi whispered, his voice small and sick-sounding. He shivered and his arms clutched me around the neck even more tightly.

It was Kin’iro; I could tell by the tall ears and long blond hair, though blood made it dark and matted. Otherwise, I would scarcely have recognized him; Soujuro had beaten him terribly. I could see only one eye glinting cold and golden beneath tangled strands of his long hair; the other had swollen shut, hugely purple and black. His mouth, as full and soft-looking as a woman’s, showed splits in a couple of places, and looked as bruised and swollen as much as his eye. It hurt to look upon him; even knowing Soujuro, I wondered how he could spoil such beauty.

Kin’iro stood naked save for a bit of cloth wound about his waist like a breechclout, leaving most of his pale skin bare. My belly clenched and my skin crawled in sympathy; he looked little different than I had when I’d come from Kuroda’s chambers. Lacerations and whip marks covered every inch of him not hidden by the cloth; his skin no longer smooth and perfect, though I knew that he would heal with kitsune speed. Nothing deep or lasting; Soujuro could not do anything to him that would scar for fear of Hamanari’s wrath.

Something whirred past my ear, giving the tip of it a little tweak, and pulled my attention away from Kin'iro a moment. I heard a soft laugh, like the far-off ringing of tiny bells, and then the hikaru hovered before me a moment. It blinked huge orange eyes at me, and in that moment, the eyes changed to purple, its thistledown hair to gold. Genichi gaped at it, and it laughed again before tweaking the tufted tip of his ear; he was too surprised to yelp.

I felt someone step up close to me, and glanced up; it was the mage, who had worked his way through the chaos from the breech in the wall. I suspected he was close; the hikaru didn't seem to venture far from their mages. Jussai, I thought Xiu and Kin’iro had called him. He was tall, perhaps a hand taller than myself and slim. And as I had first thought, not as old as his silver hair made him seem; he looked perhaps ten to fifteen years older than myself. His skin was the color of wild honey, his features even and regular, though not particularly handsome; what caught my attention were his eyes. Beneath fine black brows, they were as green as fresh new moss, and not shaped like ours, but more rounded, more open.

Right now, those green eyes sparkled with rage, and I could fairly see the power moving within them, bright flashes that had nothing to do with the glint of the sun, and everything to do with the power rising inside him. Even collared, I could feel it, dancing along my skin like the prickle of cold, making gooseflesh rise on my arms. He brought his hands up to the level of his chest, as if holding an invisible ball between them, and I could see an arc of power jump from one palm to another, faster and faster, coalescing into a bright, spinning globe. Vaguely, I heard him murmur soft words, coaxing the power into being, and the part of me locked away leaped in recognition, in joy, only to be slapped back down by the wards writhing around my neck, wrists, and ankles. It made me gasp and almost drop Genichi, and I staggered before catching my balance again.

Jussai’s head turned slightly, and he looked down at me, as if feeling the abortive surge of power within me. Interest flared in his fierce eyes for a moment, and I wasn’t wholly certain if it was a good thing that he’d noticed me. I dropped my gaze instantly, and took a step away, though I suspected that staying closer to him would be by far a safer course of action.

“No!” Xiu’s voice and the sharp clang and skitter of steel against steel brought our attention back to her and the others.

Evidently, as Jussai had caught my eye, Soujuro had lunged forward with his blade to spit Kin’iro. Xiu had countered; blades flashed, and Soujuro withdrew, a fine line of red across his forearm, his face hard with hatred.

“You will not,” Xiu spat, her face equally hard. “You will not kill him unarmed.”

From someplace within himself, Kin’iro drew strength, and stood upright, his shoulders squared. His bloody mouth smiled, contemptuously, and he held out his fist. When he opened his fingers, something red fell to the veranda floor with a soft thump and lay there between them. It was thick red cord, like the cord Soujuro had used to tie Genichi the night before.

“Did you think,” Kin’iro said softly, “that this could actually hold me?” His wrists were raw, but it was only one more injury, small compared to the others Soujuro had dealt. He held out his other hand; it was bloody. His fingers opened, and he dropped something else beside the cord; it thudded wetly on the floor. I'd gutted enough game that I recognized what it was; it was a heart. Kin'iro's hand was bloody up to the wrist, and I knew without a doubt that it was the heart of the guard who had helped Soujuro the night before. In my arms, Genichi gagged, and I held him closer.

Kin'iro smiled at Soujuro, a smile full of hatred. “I will kill you.”

Soujuro blanched, but then his face smoothed over and he held his ground. “I don’t think you will. You can barely stand, and the collar will not allow it. Your mage may have broken the wards around the compound, but that is a far different spell.”

Kin’iro’s single golden eye gleamed. “Jussai. Attend me.”

The globe of power pulsing between the mage’s hands winked out of existance with a silent pop that I felt within my head. Jussai reached down to his sash and pulled free a large dagger with a blade as black as night; as I looked at it, I thought I saw things flickering within the blade, almost as if ghosts lived within the weapon. Was this how they proposed to free him of the collar? I wasn’t certain how it would work, as Tetsuo-Sensei had crafted the collar to defend itself at the first sign of tampering. I knew from first hand experience how it both caused pain and tried to suffocate its prisoner; I still bore the red marks on my throat where its sharp edges had cut into my skin.

Kin’iro took a step forward, unsteadily, then another. Soujuro turned toward him, but Xiu leapt forward, her blade a flashing arc. “I would kill you myself, but you belong to him. I hope he makes you suffer.”

Behind us, the fighting had mostly died down, and as I expected, Kin’iro’s men had won. A quick glance around showed the ones not fighting watching the scene before us with varying degrees of anger; their ferocity and hatred was almost palpable, and made the hairs rise on the back of my neck. For half a moment, I almost felt sorry for Soujuro; they would have literally ripped him to pieces had Kin’iro not claimed him for his own. But my sympathy did not last; I knew what he had done, and he deserved whatever fate the gods decided to deal him. A man could not spend years inflicting pain upon others and not have it eventually come back around to him; I knew little of religion, but I did understand that precept.

Kin’iro leapt down from the veranda, wobbled, and steadied; I stood close enough to see how he paled, how it had cost him. But he straightened and met Jussai halfway. Closer, he looked even more dreadful, and I could see blood staining the underside of his tail and inside his thighs. It made my stomach roll and bile rise to the back of my throat. I had no desire to ever know what Soujuro had done to injure him so.

“Milord,” Jussai said softly, and touched the backs of his fingers gently to Kin'iro's cheek, a surprisingly tender gesture. It was a term unfamiliar to me, in a language I’d never before heard. I expected to hear Kin’iro-sama, and thought perhaps what Jussai had said was something similar, but then, I didn’t think Jussai, in spite of his name, was one of us. He simply looked different than anyone I’d ever before seen.

“Jussai," Kin'iro said, with a gleam in his eye. His bloody hand grasped the mage's sleeve in a friend's grip. Then his eye darkened, and he tilted his head. I felt more than heard the growl that rumbled in his throat. "Take it off,” Kin’iro said. “I want to kill him.”

"As you wish, Milord." Jussai drew them both to their knees on the paving stones of the courtyard. He spoke quietly, and I could not hear what he whispered in Kin’iro’s large ears, but the kitsune nodded in agreement. Kin’iro sat very still, folded upon his knees, one hand on Jussai’s shoulder to help steady himself.

The mage drew a deep breath, and I could feel again the power building within him. The hikaru fluttered above them, and its color began shifting as Jussai began speaking softly, his words a singsong rhythm that I knew must be a spell. Although I couldn't feel the curse within me, I did feel an odd fluttering response, as if part of me knew this, and knew it well, held back only by the wards at neck and wrists and ankles. The wards at neck and wrists and ankles felt warm, and I looked down at my wrists to find the writing Tetsu sensei had placed upon them writhing, almost as if alive.

Power rose, higher and higher, until I grew a little dizzy with its strength; the hikaru flew between Kin'iro and Jussai, a multicolored firefly, tiny face fierce and intent. Kin'iro paled and made a soft choking sound, and his fingers tightened in Jussai's robes, knuckles going dead white against his skin. Jussai's face grew even more intent, his voice deepening, the words slipping more quickly from his tongue, and then he reached out to touch the collar, which glowed as brightly as the hikaru. I heard a sizzle, as if his fingertips had touched something hot, and Kin'iro's face grew as white as snow, his golden eyes fluttered closed, and he swayed, swollen mouth parting to gasp for air.

Jussai's voice grew stronger, louder, and then he raised the dagger. The sun glinted off the black blade for just a moment, and then he plunged it into the ground. I felt the impact through the soles of my feet; felt the shiver of energies ripple along my skin, stopped by the wards around my ankles. Kin'iro made one last gasping sound, and then with a sharp metallic popping sound, the collar snapped, and the metal ribbon floated to the ground, falling into little blackened curls.

Kin'iro fell forward, and Jussai caught him, holding him for a moment; I heard the kitsune gasping for breath, his bloody shoulders heaving, his face buried in Jussai's arms. And then my ears twitched as I heard a small soft sound, one that grew louder as Kin'iro pulled back.

Laughter.

The kitsune gathered himself and sat back on his heels. He raised a hand to his throat, reddened and cut and burned by the collar and the spell to release him. His laughter grew even louder, and his one visible eye glittered.

"Free," he said hoarsely. "I'm free."

He staggered to his feet and raised his arms. The air seemed to shimmer around him, and in the space of time between one eyeblink and the next, he ~changed~. A sleek, golden-furred fox, bigger than any I'd ever seen before stood in his place, a fox with Kin'iro's bright, sharp intelligent eyes, and two full, fluffy tails curving behind him. I blinked, not certain I saw correctly, but yes, two tails switched behind him. He grinned a fox grin just like the ones on the statues standing guard outside the gate of my home, a canine smile full of slyness.

The fox yipped, the air shivered again, and Kin'iro stood there once more in his man/fox kitsune form, a grin of triumph on his swollen mouth. Already he seemed stronger, his own powers released to energize him and begin to heal him. Slowly he turned and faced Soujuro and Xiu. He raised his left hand, and Xiu instantly flung her sword in his direction. It tumbled through the air, hilt over point, flashing bloodily in the sunlight. The hilt smacked solidly into his palm, and his long-clawed fingers closed about it. It was a short sword, a kodachi, not a katana, and he swung it experimentally, as if getting a feel for it after not having held one during his years of confinement.

Beside me, Jussai had gained his feet, and slid the dagger back into its sheath, tucking it into his sash. The hikaru perched on his shoulder, one tiny hand buried in his long, thick silvery hair, its body flushed pink with blood. It blinked at me, and its two sets of gossamer wings shivered. Jussai looked ready to leave, finished with his task.

I couldn't let that happen, not yet. "Kin'iro," I said softly. "Remember Genichi...please."

He heard me; his ears twitched, though his attention didn't waver from Soujuro's scarlet-robed form; his gaze was the hungry, considering, consuming one of the predator. Freed, his aggression and hatred now had a focus---Soujuro.

"Jussai---free the boy," he said, and then prowled forward.

The mage's green eyes turned to me, and I returned his gaze without flinching. He looked at my face, at my hair, and then down my body---what he could see of it, as I still held Genichi closely---his attention as considering as Kin'iro's. My ears suddenly felt hot as I blushed; his thoughts were clear in his eyes, though his expression didn't change.

"Not me," I said, and pried Genichi's arms from around my neck. "Genichi, here."

I set Genichi on his feet, but he clung to me, afraid, his tail curled around his leg. I pried him loose again, and went to my knees beside him. "Don't be afraid," I coaxed. "I'll be right with you...I won't leave you, I promise. Remember what I said about making a new family far away from here?" I didn't say I was going with him, as I didn't like to lie.

Genichi nodded solemnly. "I remember," he said softly.

"Just a little while longer, and you'll be free." I tugged him down and set him before me, wrapping my arms around him. I looked up at Jussai to see if this was all right, and he nodded. "I'll hold your hand, all right? I'll be right with you."

"All right," Genichi said softly, but his little ears flattened and he gripped my hands with surprising strength.

"Be brave, and you'll be free," I said, and wondered at the lump that seemed to rise in my throat. I looked up at Jussai, who towered over the both of us, and nodded. He unsheathed that big knife, and again I thought I saw ghostly images writhing within the black blade. Just being close to it made me feel jittery; I didn't like it. But I quelled both my dislike and my anxiety, calming myself for Genichi's sake. He was nervous enough without picking up my own fears.

Jussai knelt before us, and began murmuring the words to his spell. The hikaru fluttered about, drawing Genichi's attention, and I let my own drift, my eyes going back to Kin'iro. Soujuro had stepped from the veranda, and they circled one another slowly, each one sizing up his opponent. Kin'iro held the sword easily; he twirled it once or twice as he watched Soujuro move, and the blood-stained blade caught the light, flashing like lightning.

Soujuro moved well, but not with the fluidity of Kin'iro; he shifted from one stance to the next as Kin'iro circled him. Then Kin'iro struck, blades clashed, and Kin'iro leapt away with a laugh. Blood welled up on Soujuro's shoulder, darkening the scarlet robe he wore.

"I would take you by pieces, but I simply don't have the time," Kin'iro said. "Better yet, take you with me and show you just how much of an amateur you are as a sadist. I'm almost four hundred years old, Soujuro. I know ways of inflicting pain that you can't even begin to imagine."

Kin'iro smiled that terrible, dreadful smile, and Soujuro blanched. But to his credit, he stood his ground, and though his face was carefully blank, I could see real fear in his eyes, smell it radiating from him in waves. Kin'iro's tail flicked, and he sprang forward, sword whipping like the wind.

Soujuro countered; he was quick and precise, but he couldn't hope to maintain a defense against Kin'iro's speed and rage. Their blades rang against one another like bells, and when Kin'iro pulled back, Soujuro staggered, cut and bleeding from a dozen different places. His scarlet robe bloomed black with blood, and it dripped in fat drops to the courtyard.

Kin'iro brought up his sword; the blood threaded along the blade. His tongue flicked out for a taste, and his eye glittered.

"Die."

Even hurt, his speed was surprising; he was simply a golden flash as he closed in on Soujuro. Soujuro barely had time to bring up his sword in defense before I heard two distinct ~chok~ sounds. One hand went sailing across the courtyard in an arc of blood, fingers still clenched around the hilt of his sword; the other fell not two feet from where I knelt with Genichi; it twitched like some big pale spider before going still.

Soujuro stood there in shock, blood spurting from the stumps of his arms, and Kin'iro closed on him. Kin'iro's hand went between Soujuro's legs, beneath the red robe, and I heard a wet ripping sound before Kin'iro stepped back, his hand aloft, holding bloody flesh. He laughed, and flung it down; Soujuro's genitals.

Soujuro began screaming then, an indescribable sound of pain and horror. He dropped to his knees, his body pumping out his life's blood at an incredible rate; it pooled around him like a pond, glittering in the sun. Jussai paused for a beat in his incantation, and I covered Genichi's eyes with my hand, turning his face gently away. I felt numb with with shock myself; even the crawling sensation of Jussai's power couldn't reach me.

"When you get to hell, Soujuro, ask Enma-sama how he enjoyed his summer day," Kin'iro said, and then his sword flashed once more in a bright arc. Soujuro's screaming stopped abruptly as his head, with its long tail of dark hair, went flying. It bounced with a sickening solid sound, rolled, and came to rest face toward me. His eyes blinked, full of horror at the knowledge of his own death, and then faded as his spirit left his body.

I clapped a hand over my mouth and swallowed hard several times; bile rose hotly in the back of my throat, and I thought I would be sick. I looked over at Kin'iro, who stood bloody but triumphant, breathing heavily. Soujuro had cut him once, a bloody line over his forearm, but it was no worse than the stripes Kin'iro had all over his body from Soujuro's whip.

Xiu was at his side in a flash. He laughed, but it sounded weak, and tired. "Xiu. I showed you where Hamanari keeps his money chests...take two and fetch them now."

"Will you be all right while I do?"

His bright head nodded once. Xiu beckoned two of the kitsune closest to her, and they disappeared into the house. Kin'iro turned back to face his men, and suddenly the weariness I'd seen close at hand disappeared. He stood tall and broadshouldered, regal in spite of his battered appearance.

"For your patience, for your loyalty, for your fire, go in and take what you will. Whatever you find is yours. Go now, and hurry. We don't want to be caught here if Lord Mitsukane decides to investigate the warning bell or if the Mage's Guild sends someone to see what Jussai has done."

With a cheer, the kitsunes poured into the house, and in a moment, I heard shouts and screams as they encountered the staff. I put that firmly from my mind; I couldn't think anymore about anyone else hurt. I felt distant from all the horror I'd seen today. Later, I knew, I would remember it, and relive it, but for the moment, I couldn't allow myself to feel it anymore.

In my lap, Genichi shook and gasped for air as the black collar closed about his throat. His hands gripped mine tightly, and his small body arched as it fought for breath. His violet eyes were huge and wide with terror and pleading. I could only hold his hands and tell him it would be all right in a moment. This close to him, connected, I could feel echoes of his fear and pitied him, but knew it would soon be over. Jussai raised the black dagger and plunged it into the ground. The wards in my own collar and cuffs moved against the metal; I could feel them, hot and almost alive as Jussai's will, as his power, overwhelmed Genichi's wards and the boy's collar split with a sharp ping sound.

Genichi whooped for air, leaning back against my chest, gasping and shaking, the scent of his fear beginning to lose its sharp, acidic edge. He had gripped my hands so tightly his nails had cut into my skin, and the cuts stung now, but I pushed that aside; it was unimportant. His nimble fingers went to his throat and ran over his skin, free of Hamanari's collar at last. He was burned and cut as Kin'iro was, but it was a minor injury, and would heal rapidly. His face was a picture of joy as he realized that he was free at last.

Energy shivered against my skin, and Genichi changed, as Kin'iro had done, and a small white kitten curled in my lap. He trilled a little merrow that sounded so familiar, and butted his head against my belly. I picked him up and held him close to my face; yes, those were Genichi's violet eyes that looked out at me. He rubbed the side of his face against mine, marking me, and then wriggled in my grasp. I set him gently on the ground, and then in a blink, Genichi stood there once more.

I reached out and tweaked his little white ear, and he laughed. My heart felt full and warm with gratitude. I turned to Jussai, and offered him a smile. He startled a bit, as if he'd not been expecting that, and I dropped into a deep obeisance. "Thank you for freeing him," I said. "Thank you so much."

Jussai cleared his throat. "Get up," he said, his voice rough. "Don't grovel like that before me."

I sat up immediately. Color chased across his high cheekbones; he ~was~ embarrassed, though I couldn't understand why---that had never been my intention. I had merely offered gratitude in the only way I knew. His green eyes studied me with an intensity that made me blush in turn.

"Jussai." Kin'iro's clear voice cut through the sounds of sacking going on within Hamanari's house. I felt relieved when the mage's attention shifted from me to Kin'iro.

"Yes, Milord?"

"If you want anything of Tetsu's, I suggest you get to it before they rip the place apart looking for valuables and before they claim all the pretty women."

Jussai's gaze slid to me again, too interested by far, and I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.

"Never mind him. He has too many wards, and we're running short of time," Kin'iro said impatiently. "Take what you can get." Kin'iro looked very tired, as if he could barely keep on his feet, as if will alone kept him upright.

Jussai nodded, and turned in a swirl of silver hair and black robes. He disappeared within the house, the hikaru fluttering about his head. He stopped to say a word to a tall kitsune with reddish hair coming out of the house with a large bag stuffed full of things, and they both looked at me. The kitsune nodded, face serious, and leapt lightly from the veranda as Jussai disappeared inside. I wondered what they said about me. Genichi tugged at my robe, and I looked down at him.

"Inochi, you still have your collar on," he said. "You can't change and can't run away with your collar on."

"I never could change like you can," I said, and ruffled his soft, flyaway hair. "And don't worry about the other yet."

He looked troubled, but said nothing, holding my hand tightly. I kept him turned away from the sight of Soujuro's body, but with death everywhere about us, with its reek in our nostrils, I couldn't keep him from seeing something terrible wherever he happened to look.

Xiu and the two kitsunes emerged from the house, laden with chests---Hamanari's fortunes, gained from the trade in flesh and souls. If Kin'iro felt any remorse for stealing all of Hamanari's money, it certainly didn't show in his battered face. The kitsunes began loading the chests up on horses others brought up, and Kin'iro mounted one. He swayed in the saddle, but righted himself; he looked very pale. Xiu mounted another horse, and edged it closer to his. She looked ready to catch him should he list too far to one side.

"Inochi," she called, and my attention turned to her. "Bring me the boy."

Genichi clung to me as I took him over to her and lifted him up. His fingers caught in my robe, in my hair. "No! I don't want to go without you!"

I pried him loose, leaving strands of my hair in his grasp. "I'll be along later," I lied. "Go with Xiu now, and be safe."

His eyes widened. "No! I want to wait and go with you!"

He changed, and Xiu had a handful of spitting, clawing white cat. Xiu's blue fingers closed in the scruff of his neck, vivid against his white fur, and shook him roughly. "Enough of this! Change back, or I'll tie you up in a sack and take you like this!"

Genichi returned to his neko form, subdued. He blinked back tears. "You ~promised~, Inochi. You ~promised~ we'd be brothers and make a family." The betrayal in his voice cut me to the bone, made my breath catch.

"I still promise, Genichi," I said around the lump in my throat. "Go on, and we'll be together later. We'll be free and be brothers. I swear it."

"Take care, Inochi," Xiu said, looking down at me, her blue eyes very sharp. "I'll watch over him."

I watched as a tear tracked down his cheek before Xiu clucked to her horse and kicked it into motion. Genichi peered out over her shoulder as Xiu guided her horse through the carnage and through the hole Jussai had blasted through the wall.

"What will you do now, farmer boy?" Kin'iro's voice sounded weary, yet still mocking. I looked up at him. Blood snaked in a thin line from beneath his thigh.

"It doesn't matter," I said softly. "Genichi is safe, and that's all I wanted." I bowed deeply, almost folding myself in half. "I thank you for that will all my heart."

"Hn," Kin'iro said as I straightened.

Screaming and swearing caught my attention, and I turned to see several kitsunes dragging or carrying some of the younger, prettier girls out along with their bags of treasure. I looked back up to him, and Kin'iro shrugged.

"Spoils of war. The strong take what they wish. They're only human women, anyway. Probably won't even last until we get back to my lands." I shouldn't have been surprised at his callousness; I'd seen it all the time I'd known him. Their screams became louder when they saw the carnage in the courtyard. I could do nothing for them, offer no comfort; I was powerless. I had saved one; I couldn't save everyone.

Kin'iro turned his horse away from me; evidently, he'd said all he wished. I stepped back. Now would probably be a good time to hide until everyone had left with whatever they had decided to take. I had no desire to be gutted by an overly-anxious kitsune who might think I posed some sort of threat. Afterward, I could help Haruna with any survivors, though looking around the courtyard, I doubted that we would find any there.

I turned, and ran right into a very broad chest. I stepped back and looked up...and up. He was huge, easily as big as Kyo, and bigger, broader than the more slender kitsunes, yet still, related to them. He had the same tall ears, though tufted at the tips, and his tail wasn't as full, with a distintive curve. Ookami, or wolf people. He smiled down at me, baring long, sharp canines. I blinked up at him.

"Yare yare," he said in a deep, rumbling voice. "Look what fortune drops practically in my lap. A pleasure slave."

I went suddenly very cold. "I'm not. I'm just a house slave."

"Can't lie to me. House slaves aren't so pretty, so clean, or smell so good. House slaves aren't part kitsune. House slaves don't wear a collar to keep them in place because they're too valuable to lose." He grinned down at me. "You're worth a lot of gold if they collar you."

I swallowed; my throat seemed very dry, as if I'd not had a drink of water for days. I whirled to run, but the ookami was suddenly there. I feinted left, then darted right. His hand closed through my whipping hair, but I wrenched free and ran.

For someone as large as he was, the ookami was surprisingly fast; he moved as quickly as I did, with the advantage of his youkai speed. I'd barely taken five strides before he caught me again, big hand seizing the full sleeve of my robe, jerking me around again. He began dragging me back toward the courtyard, determined to take me out. I fought and kicked and yelled, but it made no difference; it was like trying to fight the pull of the earth upon my feet.

Desperate, I sank my teeth into his wrist. The ookami spun and slapped me hard enough to send me flying. I hit the ground hard and lay there, unsure of what had happened for a long moment as the sky spun crazily above me. I could taste blood; it felt as if my lip had split again and swelled up even further, and I was certain that a couple of teeth were a little looser than before.

The ookami picked me up by the front of my robe, and I hung limply in his grasp, my legs wholly unable to support me. "Can't take me...out of the...compound...." I managed to gasp out. "Collar will kill me...no use to you dead...."

He laughed, pale yellow eyes glinting maliciously. "Guess I'll just have to take you here, then. Fine with me." He opened his fingers, and I crumpled to the ground.

I heard a roar of outrage, and turned my head slightly. My eyes widened as I saw a familiar figure bearing down on us at a dead run, a pitchfork gripped in his big hands. My heart turned over in my chest as I realized he rushed to protect me.

"Kyo! No!"

Chapter Fifteen

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