The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Just a liiiiiiiitle more, thought Maila. I can almooooooost reach it.

Sprawled out on her belly on the riverbank (dry this year! Meaning she wouldn’t get muddy, only dusty, and dust she could pat off so Mama never had to know), the seven-year-old took a deep breath, ducked her head underwater, and stretched out one arm as far as it would go. Her fingertips just brushed her flute, which was sticking out of the black sand like a crooked flagpole. If only she hadn’t promised never ever ever to go into the river by herself! Then she could dive in, grab her flute, and go home.

But no, Mama had said the river was dangerous. A little girl could drown, or get kidnapped by the dragon king to work in his water court (which sounded more fun than working on the farm, Maila thought), or get eaten by that giant monster catfish demon…. So she’d promised never to go into the river by herself, and big girls kept promises.

Even when they were so, so inconvenient.

Wriggling forward a few more inches, Maila strained towards her flute – and froze.

The very edge of the riverbank, where it met the water, was muddy! Now the whole top of her tunic was smeared with mud! Plus her chin and even the ends of her pigtails!

She looked like she’d gotten into a mud fight with her brothers and cousins again, when she most definitely had not. In fact, this time she’d run away when they started splashing around in the river, because she’d known that the next thing they’d do would be to dig out handfuls of mud and start throwing them. Mama hated when they did that. So Maila had trotted off to play on her own – but she’d been so busy peeking through the rushes to look for the duck demons that everyone said lived around here that she’d tripped over a rock and dropped her flute into the water. And now she couldn’t get it back because she couldn’t go in the river, plus she was covered in mud and Mama would be furious anyway. This wasn’t fair!

Maila tried to pinch her flute between two fingertips but only managed to knock it more crooked. Now it was even harder to get!

In the distance, her oldest brother called, “Little Sis? Little Sis?” and then, “Hey, where’s Maila?”

Oh no! They’d find her all covered in mud and tell on her! It wouldn’t make Mama any less angry at them for the mud fight when she told on them right back – but she’d be in just as much trouble. And she tried so hard to be good, too! It just wasn’t fair!

She thrust out her arm again, but she was so upset that she knocked the flute over completely. Now it lay on its side on the riverbed.

“Maila! Maila!” called the voices in the distance.

Oh no, they were coming this way! She had to get her flute and run away to hide now! With a big splash, she jumped into the river.

When a gigantic catfish stuck its head out of a cave and grinned at her with a whole mouthful of pointy teeth, she wished very, very hard that she’d let her brothers tattle on her instead.

I didn’t get far before a pair of frogs zipped past me, yelling at the chaotic crowd of water spirits, “It’s Lord Silurus! It’s Lord Silurus! He’s eating a human girl!”

At the sound of the catfish demon’s name, the smaller, weaker spirits turned tail and fled.

Captain Carpio puffed up and pointed a fin. “Guards, save her!” he bellowed at the frogs. He did not, however, make any move forward himself.

“That’s suicide!” screeched Captain Carpa from her position right next to Yulus, on his other side from Nagi. “You’ll get the whole company killed!”

“Not if you back me up for a change!”

Meanwhile, the head crab sidled up to Nagi and whispered something. From the way the water snake stiffened, she’d learned that I was missing.

I flattened myself against the riverbed behind a clump of eelgrass, hoping that my dark back would blend in with the black sand.

Nagi hissed something at the crab, which scuttled off, summoned the other crabs, and whispered orders to them. With much waving of pincers, they started to fan out, clearly searching for me.

I had a choice to make, then. I knew I’d earn positive karma from becoming the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea’s newest natural philosophy experiment. But how much negative karma would I gain from ignoring a demon eating a human child right in front of me?

Realistically, there was nothing a mortal fish could do about a demon feared even by a dragon king. But the Heaven had never taken realism into account before, and I didn’t see why it would start now.

Although…it also assigned karma based on results alone, so I could try all I wanted to save this human, but if I failed, then I might as well have cheered the demon on.

Squirming forward on my belly, I raised my head for a better view. In the middle of the river, that monster catfish I’d seen in my first life in Black Sand Creek had caught a little girl by one foot. He held her ankle gently between his teeth, so gently that the tips hadn’t even broken skin. As I watched, he loosened his jaw.

She kicked off his forehead and flailed to the surface. There was a loud splash when her head broke the surface, and I heard her sputter and gasp for air.

With a casual snap, Lord Silurus caught her other ankle and dragged her back under. A flute she’d been clinging to slipped from her hand.

Huh. That flute looked oddly familiar.

Sinking back into the eelgrass, I glanced at Yulus. The dragon was looking unhappily between the two captains, steeling himself to announce a decision he disliked. At last he spoke, silencing their argument. “We will regroup and continue to the Eastern Sea. Leave Lord Silurus alone.”

“Your Majesty!” exclaimed Captain Carpio, stunned.

“That is the treaty between the Water Court of Black Sand Creek and the Claymouth barons. Their vassals are permitted to fish in and otherwise use our waters, but their deaths are not our concern.”

Well, the absolution of guilt was convenient. Still, I rather thought that the humans got the better deal, since as far as I knew, very few people actually died in the river. Maybe more demons had lived in Black Sand Creek when the treaty was signed.

Regardless, if that were the bargain, and if I counted as a member of the Water Court – which I was pretty sure I did, or at least could make a very good legal argument for it – then the blanket pardon covered me too. Turning, I edged back through the eelgrass.

But that flute – it bothered me. It niggled at the edges of my mind. I knew I’d seen it before, but where? And how?

As the water currents from Lord Silurus’ catfish-and-prey game swirled Yulus’ mane away from his neck, I glimpsed his pearl. The pearl! The visions it cast! That was it! I’d seen that flute in a little girl’s pocket at the Dragon Boat Festival. I’d been half-jealous, half-nostalgic over the red-bean sticky rice dumpling she’d been cramming into her mouth. There. Mystery solved.

Satisfied, I swam into the open, calling, Your Majesty! Your Majesty!

Yulus’ head snapped around. “Mooncloud!” he cried. “There you are! You’re all right!” He stretched his clawed hands towards me, ready to sweep me into a hug.

Behind me, there was a sickening crunch of flesh and bone, and then a wave bashed into me, tumbling me sideways. I caught a glimpse of Yulus’, Nagi’s, and all the other water spirits’ horrified faces, right before a giant pink maw closed around me.

My last thought before the teeth tore into me was, Oh well, at least I earned a lot of positive karma this time. Maybe I’ve finally reached Black Tier.

Forty-nine days later, I was back in Flicker’s waiting room as a rather grumpy green ball of light. A red ball glowed in the opposite corner, somehow conveying an aura of sulkiness.

Curiosity piqued, I drifted over. Hey, who were you? How did you die?

The red ball pulsed sullenly. It’s not fair. I didn’t mean to go into the river. All I wanted to do was get my flute. And now I’ll probably get negative points for disobeying my mother.

Oooh! You’re the little girl who got eaten by Lord Silurus?

The red ball flashed. Oh! Oh! Were you there too? Did he eat you too?

Yes! He did! I was supposed to be a present to the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea! I’m so mad!

The red ball stopped flashing and hung midair, puzzled. Why?

This soul might have been more virtuous (three Tiers’ worth of virtuousness more), but it obviously wasn’t very smart. Because I’d have earned lots of positive karma for bringing him pleasure, I explained patiently. He’s a powerful dragon. His happiness is worth more to the Accountants.

The red ball thought about this. Oooooooooh. I get it now! It spun once, then introduced itself. Hi! I was Maila. A human. How about you?

I was – I was about to say Piri, but I caught myself – Mooncloud. A catfish.

Hmmmm, said Maila, that’s…that’s great! I like catfish!

Yeah, well, so did I. When I was on the eating end.

His Majesty the Dragon King of Black Sand Creek kept me for a pet, I bragged. I’m sure I earned tons of positive karma. I bet I’ll reach Black Tier soon!

Completely missing my competitive tone, Maila gave a little bounce. I bet you do too! You know, Mama used to say – And off she went on a story about her former mother.

Gods, some souls were just naturally ditzy, weren’t they? Still, there was something relaxing about tuning out her prattle about her latest, sadly-very-short life in the Claymouth Barony with her parents, brothers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends…. I was drowsing comfortably when Flicker opened his door and called me in.

“Making friends?” he asked neutrally when the door was shut, he was in his chair, and I was in my usual spot above his desk.

Yep. You know me. I’m a friendly person.

“Hmmmm.” He stopped, but it was the sort of stop that screamed, “There’s more I want to say, but I really really really shouldn’t say it!”

Yeeeees? I prompted.

“I – that was – no, I shouldn’t – ”

What? Hey! You can’t leave me hanging now! I hung in front of his face.

He scooted his chair back several inches, the legs making a horrible scraping sound. “Piri.”

Okay, okay. I moved out of his personal space.

Flicker stared sightlessly at my curriculum vitae, then slapped his hand on it and burst out, “You do realize that soul was once Princess Cassia Quarta, right?”

The words made no sense for a moment.

Then – Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?

“Yes, that was Emperor Cassius’ youngest daughter. You should have recognized her, Piri. Gods know you spent enough time with her.”

How was I supposed to recognize her? I’ve only seen her once, in human form!

Well, twice now. Coincidence – or Glitter having her twisted fun again?

But Flicker was right. I had spent the most time with Cassia Quarta out of all of Cassius’ children, because she was the youngest and most impressionable. When the mood struck, I’d pulled her from her lessons and taken her to the top of my pagoda so I could point out the different districts of the city and spin tales about how much lovelier they’d be if we gilded the roofs of the slums, or set gems into the shop signs, or paved the streets with jade…. I’d even given her a string of pearls from around my own neck. She’d adored me. Her mother had hated me.

What happened to her anyway? After the dynasty fell?

Flicker stared at me like a tutor reproving a pupil who was acting deliberately obtuse.

What? How am I supposed to know what happened? I was dragged up here and executed, remember? I didn’t bother to hide my resentment.

“As I recall, there was a trial between those two events.”

Not enough of one to be worth mentioning.

Perhaps he agreed with that assessment, because he told me, “It may not surprise you to learn that after her father’s death, Princess Cassia Quarta became one of the puppet empresses – ”

One of the puppet empresses? How many were there? I yelped before I recalled Lady Fate’s talk of “petty kings,” plural. She hadn’t said anything about puppet empresses though!

“What did you expect to happen to the imperial children?” Flicker retorted. “Each one of them had a legitimate claim to the throne. What self-respecting duke was going to pass up that opportunity?”

I thought…I thought…. To the extent that I’d given Cassius’ children any thought, I’d assumed that the eldest, Crown Princess Cassia Prima, would have proclaimed herself empress. (Of course, if the Jade Emperor didn’t send her a chimera as a sign of approval, she couldn’t call herself “Daughter of Heaven.”)

Flicker continued, “They partitioned the empire into two, then three, then four, each claiming the whole, of course. There was a lot of civil war. And within twenty years, all of the emperor’s legitimate descendants were dead.”

All of them? Humans were fragile, yes, but that still seemed a little extreme.

“Assassination, disease, hunting accidents, childbirth, but most often war.” Flicker ticked off the causes of death on his fingers. “Princess Cassia Quarta was taken into a duke’s ‘care’ and married to his son at the age of eleven. She died in childbirth four years later, the baby with her,” he added, in case I was wondering.

I was mildly curious about the little girl whose education I’d disrupted. Huh. Huh. I gave a little shrugging bounce. Well, looks like she’s Red Tier, so she’s been doing well.

Unlike me. Grumble.

For some unfathomable reason, Flicker sighed and shook his head. “Enough of that. Let’s get back on topic.”

Yes! Let’s! What will I be this time?

Had I finally graduated from catfish? Maybe, given the manner of my death, Glitter had found the mercy to assign me to a less ugly creature this time.

Flicker closed my file to show me the runes on the cover.

They read: “Softshell turtle.”