The Fox's God by Anna Frost Page A

have to dodge guards and find a way to get over the gates, closed at this hour. Maybe—
    “What do you think of these revelations, niece?”
    Usagi matched Yoshida’s bland expression. “They explain certain changes I had noticed in my cousin. I now suspect certain things about the true root of the clan’s problems.”
    “Your suspicions are likely correct. Will this affect your performance in any way?”
    “My assignment hasn’t changed.”
    The answer seemed to satisfy Yoshida, for he asked no more questions of her, but what did she mean by it? Was she angry with him?
    “Mamoru,” Yoshida said, “you’re fidgeting.”
    Mamoru snapped straight. “I apologize.”
    “You’re too emotional. I will consider moving you elsewhere so you may better focus on your own assignment.”
    “Understood,” he said, withering inside.
    He’d failed the test, whatever it had been. He didn’t ask where he’d be moved; it had better not be far away or he’d…he’d…what, refuse to go and get either eliminated or ejected from the palace? Convince Usagi to run away with him into a precarious life without clan or employer to support them? How could he hope to convince her of anything when she wouldn’t even look at him?
    She might be in shock. Time to think it over might help. Maybe she’d smile at him tomorrow.
    Or maybe she’d never smile at him again.

Chapter Seven
    Sanae
    W ithin the dead area, the area where nothing living remained, they found an abandoned village. Walls leaned at angles and roofs sagged where they hadn’t already collapsed. Doors were missing and the holes they left were like gaping maws with only darkness inside.
    Momo’s eyes didn’t mind this lack of light so Sanae prodded him to go wander through the nearest homes. They were in a state of relative cleanliness because they were almost completely empty and because there were no small animals or bugs left to make nests. The rot and damage to floors and walls was due to the snow melting rather that the activities of wild critters.
    The third house was in better shape, partly because the door had remained closed against the elements. Momo had been able to squeeze in. Sanae nudged Momo aside long enough to claim the building by scratching the word FOX in the snow outside the door. They’d climbed up all day and the temperature was colder here, as if this part of the world denied the imminent arrival of spring. Hm, then again, spring wouldn’t truly come here. Nothing would grow, no birds would sing, and no new life would be brought forth.
    The rest of the party was clumped together, everybody either peering into houses suspiciously or watching the higher peaks surrounding them, all of them covered in snow and skeletal dead trees.
    “We wait for our contact,” the scribe said.
    “What happened to the villagers?” Yuki wondered.
    “They left years ago,” the scribe said, perhaps choosing to answer to distract everybody from their uneasy fidgeting. “Neither forest nor ground could provided them with sustenance anymore. We don’t know where they all went, but a few were frightened enough to find a way across the sea. The strange rumors they brought with them reached our ears. Without them, we may not have realized there was something here we needed to investigate.”
    “Didn’t anyone here find out? Local lords?”
    “This island is sparsely populated, especially in this mountainous area. Other than the inhabitants of a few tiny villages like this, nobody was in a position to notice or care about the spread of a strange disease affecting entire forests and frightening animals away. We suspect they purposefully chose a remote area, but we don’t think they knew exactly how far-reaching the effects would be.”
    “A stranger,” someone said.
    Indeed, a person’s shadow detached from the forest. Whoever it was did not have a lamp, navigating solely by the light of moon and stars. Everybody went still and silent, waiting to find out if