Book 7: Chapter 4: A Vivid Imagination
Falling Leaf stared at Misty Peak like she thought the fox woman was particularly slow. She gave Sen a look that, for once, was not that hard to translate. Why do you put up with this one? The ghost panther adopted an expression of patience that bordered on patronizing.
Falling Leaf spoke very slowly as she repeated her words. “Sen has taken in a lost human kit.”
Based on the way his features seemed to go tight, Sen guessed that it took an act of supreme self-control for Laughing River to keep a straight face. Not that it was much of a guess, since Sen was in the exact same position. It was not helped by the petulant annoyance that crossed the fox woman’s face. Realizing that his self-control was a tenuous shield against making the situation worse, Sen made a swift decision. He stood up before anyone could do or say anything else that might make him burst into laughter.
“Well, it seems like you all have this under control. I’ll be back in three days,” said Sen before turning his eyes on Falling Leaf. “Do you need money for a room?”
Falling Leaf looked at him fondly before she stared death at something beyond him.
“Do I need money for a room?” she asked.
Sen turned to see the inn owner standing behind the bar again. The man stood absolutely straight and visibly trembled.
“N— n— no, Mistress Cultivator,” said the owner.
Sen nodded. “That’s a good decision.”
With a quick nod in the general direction of the foxes, Sen headed for, well, the open space where a door used to be. He frowned down at the still limp form that was sprawled across the remains of the displaced door. He’s still breathing, thought Sen. I guess that’s as good as it gets for these idiots. Stepping over the unconscious man, Sen started toward the northern edge of the town. While he didn’t burst into laughter over that last interaction between Falling Leaf and Misty Peak, chuckles kept slipping free. Chuckles he had to suppress when he felt a familiar presence close in on him. Rolling his eyes, he said something that rang familiar in his ears.
“What can I do for you, Misty Peak?”
The fox woman caught up and fell into step beside him. Her expression was fixed in mild anger.
“That ghost panther is insufferable.”
Sen stopped walking. Misty Peak took a couple more steps before she turned to look at him.
“That ghost panther is my closest friend,” said Sen. “She saved my life. She sacrificed for me. You don’t have to like her. But if you speak about her in my presence, I suggest you choose your words with exceptional care.”
The fox woman went very still. She seemed to realize that she had come within a hair of crossing a line that might well prove lethal. Sen decided that he might have turned up the intensity just a bit much in his desire to convey how much he did not appreciate negative comments about Falling Leaf.
“You can think all the nasty things about her that you want. You can even say them. Just not to me.”
Misty Peak relaxed a bit when it became clear that Sen was making an effort to reduce how much threat he was projecting. She nodded slowly.
“I understand. I’ll keep my commentary to a minimum.”
“Appreciated,” said Sen as he resumed walking.
The fox fell into step beside him again but remained quiet. As they approached the edge of town, Sen broke the silence.
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“Was there something you needed? I assume there was since you came after me.”
After a much too lengthy pause, the fox woman spoke. “You don’t particularly care for my company, do you?”
Sen almost fired off a sarcastic comment, but he caught himself. He had the nagging feeling that the fox was being unusually sincere. He waited until they cleared the gates of the town before he answered.
“Are you looking for an honest answer here?”
“Yes.”
Sen gave the question more consideration than it probably deserved.
“I don’t care for the kind of games that you and your grandfather play. And, as near as I can tell, nine-tail foxes are only about their games. I don’t think I’m any closer to knowing you today than on the first day we met. So, if there is a truthful answer to your question, it’s this. I don’t know if I care for your company or not because I have no idea who you actually are. Of course, there is an argument that you are what you do. If you’re nothing more than the games you play, then, no, I don’t particularly care for your company.”
Sen found it interesting to watch Misty Peak’s expression morph as he spoke. It started out as vaguely offending, changed to shocked, then moved on to hurt, and finally landed on thoughtful. He thought that there were a few others in there, but they came and went so fast he didn’t get a chance to identify them. The problem was that he didn’t know if he could trust anything he had just seen. He couldn’t even be entirely certain that the face he was looking at was the fox woman’s actual face. He thought it was, having stripped away at least one illusion, but that was the challenge with very good illusions. You never recognized the really good ones as fake. Misty Peak eventually nodded.
“I think I understand,” she said.
Sen lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “Not going to defend your honor or the honor of all nine tail foxes?”
“Would it make a difference to you if I did?”
She had him there. Sen inclined his head in acknowledgment of the point.
“No, I don’t imagine it would.”
“Then, I think I’ll save my energy for things that might make a difference.”
“Such as?”
A bit of the amusement at the world he’d come to expect from the woman glittered in her eyes. “Oh, now that would be telling. I can’t ruin the surprise.”
That drew a deep frown from Sen, which just made the fox laugh.
“I’m going to hate this surprise, aren’t I?” asked Sen.
“I get the feeling that you hate every surprise.”
“Oh, that’s patently untrue. I’m surprised every single time that things don’t go horribly wrong at the worst possible moment to get me killed by a rampaging spirit beast that looks like the unholy union of a bear and a large cat. It’s also great when I’m not forced to negotiate with a nascent soul cultivator under threat of death because some half-wit sect elder in the capital has an overinflated sense of her own importance. I love those surprises.”
“Those are remarkably specific,” observed Misty Peak.
“Yeah, well, I guess I just have a vivid imagination.”
The fox woman sniffed. “Imagination. Right. Those were totally made-up examples.”
“Completely made up. Every word of it.”
An awkward pause fell over the two as Sen waited for the fox woman to either find something else she wanted to discuss or go away. It seemed that her ability to imagine things to talk about wasn’t quite as vivid as Sen’s. The fox eventually sighed.
“I suppose that this is the last I’ll see of you for a while,” she offered.
Sen nodded. “I expect that’s true. I’ll certainly be busy for a while.”
“Raising a mortal child?”
“I’m just providing her a safe haven for a while. I’ll leave raising her to someone equipped for the job.”
Misty Peak gave Sen a strange look before she shook her head a little. “Goodbye, for now, Judgment’s Gale.”
“Goodbye, for now, nine tailed fox.”
Sen turned to walk down the road and even managed to get a half-dozen steps before Misty Peak called after him.
“There’s something you should know.”
Sen turned to look at the fox. “What is that?”
“No one is equipped for that job. Parents just do what they can. Try their best. It’s all anyone can do. That and hope it’s enough.”
Sen gave Misty Peak a sharp look that seemed to make the fox woman very nervous. She shuffled her feet in a way he’d never seen her do before.
“That sounds like the voice of experience talking,” said Sen.
The fox regained some of her composure and smirked at him. “Does it, now? How interesting.”
With that, she turned and sauntered away. Sen might have appreciated the sway of her hips a little more than was strictly necessary. A fact that became apparent when the fox woman glanced over her shoulder and caught him watching. She smirked at him and swayed her hips even more, just to let him know that she knew. Damn it, thought Sen. That’s just going to encourage her. Rolling his eyes at his own behavior, he turned and headed back toward Fu Ruolan’s. Regardless of anything else, he’d left poor Glimmer of Night to babysit a toddler with questionable behavior. That was to say nothing of Liu Ai. He should at least have the decency to relieve the spider of Fu Ruolan.
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