The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Chapter 22: The Happiest Little Tea Party

Bureau of Reincarnation, present day:

The instant Flicker opened his door, I knew something was wrong. His neck and shoulders were as stiff as a cadaver's, and his glow had dimmed to practically nothing.

"Number 11270," he called through clenched teeth.

Warily, I floated across the waiting room, and he waved me into his office, shut the door, and slumped into his chair. For a moment, I expected him to keep going all the way to the floor and to huddle up under his desk. Wouldn't be the first time I'd seen a government functionary do that. The memory cheered me, and I shone a little brighter.

Speaking of his desk, though, my file wasn't lined up with the edge the way it usually was. It wasn't even open to my curriculum vitae, meaning that I could see a sloppy "softshell turtle" on the cover. And his brushes, inkstick, and inkstone were scattered about.

What's wrong? I demanded. The last thing I needed was to be dismembered and reshaped by a distracted star sprite. Bad enough to look like a softshell turtle – what if he reincarnated me as a mutilated one?

Flicker swallowed and didn't meet my eyes. "Nothing's wrong, soul," he muttered, his use of "soul" instead of "Piri" confirming that something was very, very wrong.

The crucial question was whether it was his problem – or mine.

Heaven might execute physical bodies, but it didn't destroy souls, right? If it could have, wouldn't it have destroyed me instead of reincarnating me as a worm?

Okay, need more information. Not going to panic just yet.

I made my chime pure and sweet, like dewdrops rolling off pear blossoms, and soothed, It's okay, Flicker. You don't have to pretend for my sake. I can tell you're upset over something. If you tell me what it is, I can help you figure it out.

Flicker continued to evade my gaze – not a good sign. "It's not a problem. It's an honor," he mumbled, making it sound like anything but. "The Star of – " He caught himself, but not fast enough.

A Star? Which one? If it were Cassius, I could understand his distress.

"I mean, one of the Stars has requested to see you – "

Me???

" – so we need to head downstairs to the salon."

What do you mean, one of the Stars wants to see me? About what? Which Star? My voice sounded like pear blossoms impaled on rose thorns now, but I didn't care. Why? Which Star? What for?

"If I were allowed to tell you, I'd have done so already. Now come on."

Flicker stood and straightened his robes but didn't start walking at once. He stared unseeingly at the door, as if steeling himself.

I floated up to his eye level and pulsed at him. What's happening? Why can't you tell me? Why do they want to see me? They're not going to destroy me, are they? I got tried and punished already!

Heaving a long sigh, Flicker put a hand on the doorknob. "No, Piri, we don't destroy souls. The worst that can happen to you is that you reincarnate as a parasite, which you're not going to."

The efficient cruelty of that sentence took my breath away. A parasite? You'd reincarnate me as a parasite?

"No. I won't. This isn't that."