Beyond the Werefox Whistle
Written by Uehashi Nahoko
Illustrated by Yumiko Shirai
Prologue
Chapter 1: Nobi on the Run
The evening wind swept through the fields with the speed of a wildfire. A little fox ran with the wind at his back, red fur shining like flames in the light of the setting sun. There were dogs on his tail, their frenzied barks echoing in all directions.
A sharp pain rippled through the fox’s body as he fled, his stomach turning over as his movements jostled his injuries.
This little fox was named Nobi. He felt his life departing from him like a trail of smoke rising from an extinguished fire as he ran.
His nose twitched at the unpleasant metallic scent of fresh blood marking his fur and paws. Blood from his victim had splattered on him.
This was the first time that Nobi had been sent by his master to kill someone. Unfortunately, the warrior had been no easy target. He had carried a sword with a charm that warded off evil. Nobi sensed that the warrior had been warned somehow, though it was unclear who could have done such a thing.
Iron was disgusting. Neither stone nor earth, iron was made only by human hands. Nobi hated the smell of the metal, which was so full of cursed power. If Nobi had been a simple spirit fox unburdened by his accursed master, he would have been reaped by the god of death this night.
Nobi still lived because of the power his master had given him at the start of this mission. But how long would that power last? Even if he could flee all the way to the border between nations, his fur was stained with blood. He wasn’t certain that the border’s magic would allow him to pass.
The dogs had caught his scent, so he had no choice but to run for as long as he possibly could.
Nobi was fast, even for a spirit fox. Once, his master had said to him: “The way you run is like a wildfire through an old forest.” But now his legs and paws weren’t moving as he wished them to. The blood flowing from his wounded chest stole away more of his strength with every passing moment.
The tall grass Nobi ran through sparkled silver in the failing light. The last rays of the sun shone on his fur. The dogs were getting closer: Nobi heard them clearly, and he could smell them now, too.
Just as Nobi was about to close his eyes so that he wouldn’t see himself be torn apart by the dogs, he saw a red-tinged shadow moving through the grass and scented a human. Humans were a warm smell, like sunlight.
***
Sayo stared blankly at the fields rippling in the evening breeze. It was after the rice harvest, so the children of the village often went into the nearby mountains to pick mushrooms. Sayo had joined the others for mushroom-picking today and had a pouch full of fresh fungi. She had just said her goodbyes to the children as they headed home to the village.
Sayo didn’t live in the village. She and her grandmother lived in a house at the edge of Yona Forest. Her grandmother worked as a midwife in Yona Village. Sayo was twelve years old, which was old enough to realize that she and her grandmother lived differently from the other villagers.
All of her playmates were concerned that Sayo might be lonely out in the woods with only her grandmother for company, but Sayo never minded. She liked quiet places where sounds seemed to drift into the air and disappear, like the sunlight did the fields at dusk. She felt uneasy in places with a lot of noise and people.
Her grandmother had told Sayo sternly that she must never share the secret of her gift with others. Sayo solemnly promised and never told anyone, not even her good friend Oharu—though Oharu knew that she had a secret.
Sayo’s hearing was uncommonly good. Not only that, but when she was near people, she could hear their thoughts as whispers in her mind. The latter sense didn’t feel like hearing to her—it felt more like the person’s thoughts were drifting into her own mind through the air, seeping through the skin of her forehead.
Just as a dog with a keen nose learned to avoid bad smells, Sayo had learned to avoid people with bad thoughts. She could partially block off the sense that picked up on others’ thoughts and feelings, but this was much more difficult to do when she was in a crowd where thoughts and feelings were everywhere. Sayo disliked not being able to control her gift and went out of her way to make sure she was never surrounded by people for very long.
Walking through the quiet fields at night suited Sayo’s sensibilities. There was no one around whose thoughts she could hear. She skipped through the lush silver grass with a faint smile on her face.
And then—quite alarmingly—Sayo heard something.
A herd of noisy animals came running through the field ahead of her. She frowned and listened, identifying dogs—dogs and one other creature. A creature the dogs were chasing. Before she could identify the creature by hearing, she saw it: a small red-brown fox.
The little fox skidded to a stop and stared up at Sayo in shock. The fox’s eyes shone gold and were wide open in fear. Even without her gift, Sayo would have known that the fox was terrified for his life. Because of her gift, she sensed a deeper anxiety in the fox—and a despairing loneliness that she wasn’t sure she would be able to put into words.
As soon as he reached her, the fox leaped up, sliding smoothly into her arms. Sayo grabbed the collar of her over-robe reflexively with both hands and loosened it so that the fox could hide under her top layer of clothing. The warm wind rustled through the grass, encouraging Sayo to turn and run herself—so that was what she did. She ran off as fast as she could with the fox in her arms and the wind pushing her forward.
Sayo sprinted into the forest blindly, pushing aside the branches and undergrowth in her path. As she continued running, engrossed in thought, she stumbled out onto a narrow forest path.
Ah, this is the road to Morikage Estate!
Sayo stepped out onto the path, then considered. Morikage Estate had a terrible reputation. Villagers were forbidden to go there. The rumor was that a child had been cursed and transformed into a deformed monster. The monster supposedly lived in seclusion deep within the estate.
Even if the rumors were true, there was no time to hesitate. The dogs were right behind Sayo and the fox.
Sayo made up her mind and started running toward Morikage Estate.
The little fox that she carried was warm. When she moved, the fox’s body moved with her. She cradled the fox’s back to help prevent him from slipping and falling, then picked up the pace.
A tall wooden fence came into view, shaded by tall cedar trees. Behind the fence, a low wooden roof peeked out of the forest growth.
Sayo tripped over a root and fell, tumbling and crying out.
The dogs surrounded her, emerging from the trees. Their claws scratched the ground. Some of the dogs barked in excitement, having found their quarry.
Sayo, terrified, froze to the spot. She crouched over the little fox and closed her eyes. They’re going to bite me! she thought, more than half-panicked.
Then a dog yelped.
Surprised, Sayo opened her eyes and saw a boy staring down at her from above a tall wooden fence. He had an arrow nocked on his bow, and he was aiming straight at her! There was no point on the tip of the arrow, just a round ball.
“Get down and stay down!” the boy called out in a clipped tone.
The boy shot arrows at the dogs. Some of the arrows found their mark, but others missed. Still, the dogs were confused by the sudden attack and started whining and running around.
Taking advantage of the dogs’ confusion, Sayo got up and ran toward the high fence.
The boy pointed to the right. “This way! There’s a hole here. Go in through there.”
Say saw a hole in the fence where the boards had rotted away. There was a shallow moat around the outside of the fence, but it hadn’t rained for a while and it was mostly empty, though very muddy.
Covered in mud and with dead leaves sticking to her shoes, Sayo managed to reach the gap in the fence and pass through. The hole wasn’t tall enough for her to just walk through it, so Sayo crouched down and crawled on all fours.
On the other side of the fence, the boy was standing on a garden stone with one foot planted on the fence. He jumped down from the stone and helped Sayo get up.
One of the dogs that had been chasing Sayo poked its nose through the hole in the fence.
“Let’s block it with this stone! Help me,” the boy said.
At the boy’s request, Sayo hurriedly helped push a garden stone over the hole she’d crawled through. The stone was quite large, but the two of them together managed to move it, closing off the hole so that the dog couldn’t get through.
Outside the fence, the dogs barked ferociously and snarled, but there was no other hole for them to pass through.
Sayo breathed a sigh of relief.
“What’s going on?! You shouldn’t be outside! Get back here!” A man’s deep voice boomed from behind them.
The boy tensed and pushed Sayo’s back. “Hide! If we’re found here, we’ll be in big trouble,” he said. He noticed a target shield used for archery practice and pushed Sayo behind it. The thick shield completely hid her from view.
Then Sayo waited.
“Master Koharumaru, what is all this noise about?” the man asked in a harsh tone.
“There were dogs. There must have been some prey passing nearby. The dogs were making a fuss on the other side of the fence, so I shot them with blunt-tip arrows. I shot five arrows and three hit!”
The man sighed. “Oh, dear. Let’s get you back inside.”
Sayo was crouched down behind the shield. Her over-robe bunched up behind her in the confined space and yanked uncomfortably at the place where the little fox was resting against her back. The fox scrabbled around to try to get to Sayo’s front, making Sayo stifle a gasp. That tickled! Sayo covered her mouth with both hands so that she wouldn’t make a sound.
“What was that sound?”
The man’s words made Sayo tremble.
“I didn’t hear anything,” the boy said in a clear, high voice. “Maybe it’s just rats?”
“False alarm,” another man’s voice called out from farther away. “Some hunting dogs from the village came out here and made a racket. A hunter just arrived, and I ordered him to take the dogs away.”
The first man hmphed. “Well, all right.” His straw sandals scraped across the ground as he approached the boy. “I won’t punish you this time, but please do not shoot at dogs outside the estate again. You must not do such things.”
The boy didn’t reply immediately. When he did answer, he was sulking. “Fine. I understand.”
The man walked away. Sayo heard his footsteps receding. A few moments later, the boy peeked behind the shield.
“You can leave now,” the boy said softly. “Make sure you stay quiet.” He lifted a finger to his lips. “If you go out the same way you came in, the dogs might pick up your scent. There’s another hole in the fence behind the barn where the boards have rotted. I’ll lead you there; follow me.”
The sun had set while Sayo was hiding. The estate grounds around them were swathed in blue-black shadows. There were watch-fires burning at the corners of the fence, all recently made. There were few lights on within the estate’s mansion. Sayo could see only one, and that light was dim.
Sayo picked up the little fox, carrying him in her arms. He was all curled up and didn’t move.
The boy, Koharumaru, noticed her movement. “What have you got there?”
Sayo gently loosened the collar of her robe. Koharumaru peered in, and his eyes went wide. “Is that a puppy?”
“It’s a little fox. It’s injured,” Sayo whispered.
Koharumaru’s eyes lit up. “So you were being chased by dogs? You’re pretty brave for a girl.”
The little fox opened his eyes and stared straight at Koharumaru, completely unafraid.
Koharumaru grinned. “He sees me! That’s a fierce look for a little fox.”
Koharumaru urged Sayo on as he walked toward the barn. They circled around to the back of the barn where the damp scent of bamboo leaves hung in the air. Koharumaru crouched down and looked at the gap in the fence.
“My servants are supposed to make sure these holes are closed, but I know of several that they don’t know about yet,” Koharumaru said proudly. He looked up at Sayo. “What is your name?”
“Sayo,” she said.
Koharumaru repeated her name silently a few times. He was still looking at her as if he were wondering what to do or say next. Then he nodded to himself and said, “Say… would you like to come over and play here again?”
Sayo blinked in surprise. The light was failing; she couldn’t make out Koharumaru’s face anymore. His shape in the darkness was nothing more than a vague shadow.
“I’ve been locked up here forever,” Koharumaru whispered. “I don’t see anyone except the people in my house. At night, after everyone has gone to bed, I sometimes slip out through this gap in the fence, pretending that I’m going to the bathroom. But that’s all I can do. There’s no one in the mountains at night. I can’t even play with other kids.”
So Koharumaru was the cursed child of the Morikage Estate. Sayo understood that at the same time that she resisted the idea. The little fox wasn’t scared of Koharumaru. The boy seemed nice enough. Under other circumstances, she thought that they could become friends.
Still, Sayo couldn’t help but ask Koharumaru a few things.
“Are you cursed?”
Koharumaru frowned. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“That’s what everyone in the village says. I can come and play again, but, well… who’s to say you won’t turn into a monster at night and eat me?”
Koharumaru sulked again. “Don’t be stupid! Why would I turn into a monster? Girls are cowards after all. If you’re scared, don’t come!”
“I’m not a coward!”
“You are a coward. You’re so scared of monsters that you can’t even go to the bathroom at night on your own!”
“I am not!”
They’d started their conversation quietly, but now they were yelling at one another—and being entirely too loud. At the same time, they put their fingers to their lips and said, “Sssh!”
“I’m not a coward,” Sayo whispered. “The kids in my village are scared of coming to my house in the forest. They don’t go near it, even during the day. I live near the edge of the forest, and not in the village. I don’t mind going to the bathroom at night on my own.”
The little fox poked his nose out from Sayo’s robe and sniffed the air.
“That’s right. I had forgotten that the little guy was hurt,” Koharumaru said.
“Let me see. How bad is it?” Sayo asked.
When she removed the little fox from her robe, he stretched out, then tried to lick his wounded flank. His nose scrunched up and he retched as if he’d just smelled something awful.
Looking at the fox in the dim light, Koharumaru peered closely at the wound, then said, “It doesn’t seem to be that deep. An arrow grazed him. Wait here a minute.”
Koharumaru stood up, pushed aside some weeds growing near the fence, and plucked the leaves off one of the plants. Then he returned, holding out the leaves. “This will stop the bleeding,” he said.
Koharumaru rubbed the leaves gently across the fox’s wound, which had the effect of cleaning it as well as slowing the flow of blood. Nobi sniffed tentatively and was relieved to find that the terrible iron smell was gone. He relaxed into Sayo’s hold, eyes half-closing.
“Thank you,” Sayo said. For this, and for other things; Sayo remembered that Koharumaru had saved them both before. And instead of thanking him then, she’d asked him if he was going to turn into a monster. She felt like a terrible person.
Sayo raised her head and looked at Koharumaru. “I’ll come again. I’ll bring some walnut cakes so I can thank you properly.”
Koharumaru’s eyes sparkled vividly in the gathering darkness. “Walnut cakes? Really?”
“Yes. My grandma and I make them; they’re delicious. I can’t bring a whole batch with me, but grandma will never miss one or two.”
Koharumaru smiled. “Then it’s a promise.” He ducked his head, his shoulders hunching inward in anxiety. “But be careful. If anyone finds out that you’re meeting with me, you’ll be in danger. And you’ll get in trouble.”
“It’ll be fine. You can go outside at night, right?”
The two of them discussed when they would meet and what their signal would be so that they could meet in safety. Koharumaru’s voice became more animated as he spoke and his excitement and anticipation built. Sayo was excited, too.
When the plan was decided and Sayo was about to leave through the hole in the fence, Koharumaru inhaled sharply, then whispered, “It’s pitch black out now. Isn’t it dangerous for you to return to the forest now? Wouldn’t it be better to hide in the barn for the night?”
“Grandma will be worried about me, so I have to go home. I’ll be all right.”
“But I’ve heard that there’s a terrifying fox in Yona Forest.” Koharumaru glanced down at the little fox in Sayo’s arms.
“I’m pretty sure this little one isn’t some kind of monster,” Sayo said.
The little fox’s golden eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
Sayo waved, then said goodbye to Koharumaru. She went through the gap in the fence and into the forest. The darkness around her was complete, but the moon was rising. The moon’s pale light helped her find her way. She looked back at the fence a few times, though she couldn’t see much. She sensed rather than saw that Koharumaru was watching over them for as long as he could.
The little fox, Nobi, was so comfortable in the warmth of Sayo’s arms that he dozed off.
It was so warm. The heat seeped into his body, soothing the pain of his injuries. As he slept, he remembered, and a strange sadness came over him. Someone else had held him like this once, a very long time ago. Yet he remembered it. How? Why? He had never been touched by anyone with affection since he was old enough to understand words. His first memory was of the master’s enormous hand grabbing him by roughly the scruff of the neck. And then he was being lifted up, despite his struggles.
This is your fate in this life.
Nobi still recalled the cavernous voice of the master as he’d uttered those words, along with the strong smell of incense. From that time until now, he had lived as a sorcerer’s familiar.
So who could have held him like this before? He didn’t know, but he remembered that it had happened.
***
Sayo wasn’t too scared to walk through the forest at night. She’d done it before, at least, though not very often on her own. The little fox was warm against her chest, and as she walked, she got a keener sense of his thoughts and feelings. She smelled something sweet and comforting coming from the fox, like hay drying in the sun at the end of summer.
At that moment, a sharp whistle echoed within Sayo’s mind, the sound shrill and almost painful. The scenery around her blacked out, and her ears rang. The little fox disappeared like a candle flame that had been blown out. The fox hadn’t jumped out of her arms: he had vanished like smoke.
Sayo stared blankly at her arms where the fox had been.
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