The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Chapter 61: Into the Jade Mountain Wilds

Even on the other side of the wasteland that buffered the civilized world from the Wilds, the Jade Mountains had loomed. With each step that Floridiana and Den had pushed through the tangle of grasses, shrubs, and thorns that had once been fertile farmland, back during the Empire, before the demons expanded their territory, the mountains had blocked out more of the sky.

Floridiana had always assumed that the Jade Mountains felt so ominous because she knew what they held: long-established demon kingdoms, newly-awakened animals who hadn't learned the ways of civilized folk, and, on the far side, the shore that adjoined the Northern Sea with all its fish demons. But no, now that she was in the Jade Mountains, she could attest that the landscape itself felt ominous.

The peaks were great, grey masses of marble cliffs, broken by expanses of gravel from rocks that had shattered in landslides, and they were much, much too big. They went up and up and up until they seemed to crush her with their weight. She thought they were dotted with shrubs until she looked at the mountainside around her and realized that they were actually trees – and not short, stubby trees either.

Who knew what lay around the next bend? Who could guess what lurked behind or on top of the next boulder? (Because the boulders were the size of hillocks here!) Who knew what demon lord's borders they were breaching?

This was the most exciting place she had ever visited!

"Isn't this magnificent?" she breathed.

The wind tore the words from her lips and hurtled down a ravine, so Den didn't hear them. At least, she assumed that was why he didn't reply.

"Shouldn't be much further!" she called back over her shoulder.

For their first foray into the Wilds, she'd opted for a day trip to scout out a good spot for a campsite. The locals hadn't been able to tell them much about the demon who ruled here, only that he was a rock macaque named King Haplor "wha' mos'ly keeps t' hisself." That sounded promising: A demon king who mostly kept to himself couldn't be too strong, and hence was probably too busy fighting off other demons to harass a pair of travelers.

Since Den was still sunk in gloomy silence, Floridiana kept the conversation going. "It's a nice little brook. You can have a nice soak. That'll perk you right up, won't it?"

For a member of the group of spirits that controlled all the water in Serica, Den was not very brave. At the mention of the brook, he shot her a look of pure terror.

"I don't think it's a good idea," he answered at last, in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Why not?"

If they were going to camp anywhere for a significant length of time – which they would, in order to measure their rate of magical growth – then it would have to be near a source of water. Both humans and dragons needed it to survive.

"We have no idea what's living in the brook."

She repeated the argument she'd made, and which...The Demon...had confirmed, back when they were planning the expedition in Honeysuckle Croft: "It's a very small brook. Any demon living in it can't be too powerful."

She'd have shown him the map in The Mage's Guide to Serica, except that she hadn't brought the precious book with her. Instead, she'd memorized the map before they set out. (Admittedly, it was on the sketchy side, so there wasn't much to memorize.)

"Anyway, it's got to have a water court. Worst comes to worst, we'll appeal to the dragon king for help."

She'd meant to reassure Den, but if anything, he looked even more petrified. "I really don't think – "