The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Chapter 29: The Dragon King of Caltrop Pond

All right. Enough reminiscing. All the humans and most of the spirits at that New Year's Eve party in the City of Dawn Song were long dead, and who knew if the palace itself still stood? All of that lay in the past. Five hundred years in the past. Whereas I had a modern-day Serican party to attend – er, infiltrate and investigate – now.

A quick glance told me that the spirits were so drunk they'd be lucky to identify me as a turtle, much less an unawakened turtle that could talk. If anything, my lack of an offering was more problematic. But that, I could handle.

Head held high, I glided into the audience chamber as if I'd been invited. On the dais, a group of human musicians was playing inside a dome of air. The mass of gyrating bodies parted to let me onto the dance floor, and I bobbed up and down to the drums, surrounded by a swirl of spilled ale, brandy, wine, and whatever other types of booze that present-day Sericans were capable of concocting.

The bamboo viper I'd seen earlier tried to twirl, lost her balance, and tumbled across my shell. Hiccupping, she slurred, "Shorree! Washn't on pur – purposh – din't mean to – to – " Unable to string together a coherent sentence, she swayed off me and thrust a flask into my eyes.

Scooting backwards, I took it between my front feet and sniffed warily. Then I risked a tiny, experimental sip – and felt it scour the insides of my mouth and burn all the way down my throat into my stomach.

"Bad, ishn'it?" yelled the bamboo viper over the music. "Have shome more!"

I just toasted her with the flask.

Across the room, a group of rice paddy snakes were writhing around and even on the throne itself with a shocking lack of concern for lèse-majesté – oh.

Oh. The spirit dancing on the throne was the Dragon King of Caltrop Pond himself. Never mind then.

Leaving the bamboo viper to her flailing, I dragged the flask across the dance floor until I reached them. The rice paddy snakes greeted me with cheers, and the dragon plopped down to lounge in his throne, the caltrop-nut-shaped back splayed out behind him like bat wings.

"Wel – wel – hic – welcome!" he proclaimed on the third try. "What have you brought – hic – Us?" He stabbed one claw at the flask.

Aww, he only had three claws per foot. Just a wee babe of a dragon. How cute.

I bowed, inclining my whole body. Wine, Majesty! (At least, it was as close to wine as it was to any other type of beverage.) I bring you an offering of wine, in gratitude for this most auspicious meeting at this most splendid event!

The dragon's claws opened and closed in a clear "Gimme, gimme now," so I swam forward and placed the flask in his hand.

Throwing back his head until his stubby horns scraped the throne, he chugged it in one go. I watched, fascinated, waiting for him to choke, but he bounced up onto his seat and flung his arms wide.

"Yes! Yes! That's the stuff! What's your name, spirit!" He stabbed a claw at me.

Well, I certainly wasn't going to say "Mooncloud." Casting about for inspiration, I blurted out, Rosette! My name is Rosette, Majesty.

"Rosette!" He turned the word over, testing the syllables. "I like it! I'm going to call you – Rosie!" Holding the empty flask high, he shouted, "To Rosie, our newest friend!"

The rice paddy snakes roared, "To Rosie! To Rosie!"

Tossing the flask aside, the dragon kicked off his throne and arced across the room. As he plummeted towards the center of the dance floor, his guests cheered and crowded back to make space. The pounding beat stopped, the music swung into a jig, and one of the rice paddy snakes slithered up to fasten strings of dried caltrop nuts to his legs. Meanwhile, crab servants were winding through the crowd, handing out more strings of dried caltrop nuts for everyone to tie on themselves. I glimpsed the bamboo viper looping hers around her tail, while the whistling duck draped his around his neck.