The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Chapter 104: Old BFFs

Piri? Why do you think my name is "Piri"? I'm Pip. My lady, I added very, very tardily.

If I were a mere messenger – which I really was! – then I should have been addressing her with all the proper courtesies from the start.

But it was Anthea.

And speaking of Anthea being Anthea, the raccoon dog spirit gave a little bounce on the bed, which had the effect of launching me into the air.

"Because that's exactly how you used to talk, you silly thing! Didja really think I'd forget? We were, like, Best Friends Forever!"

The slang made me wince. Not least because it was several centuries out of date. I hadn't heard any modern Sericans using it.

Also, Anthea must have done some serious memory revision if that were how she remembered us. The period of time during which any neutral observer would have termed us "BFFs" had been very, very brief, over almost as soon as it started. But if that were how she preferred to remember us, so much the better.

Fluttering down, I landed on her shoulder and nestled up against her neck. The position conveyed a sense of emotional closeness, and had the added perk of giving me an unflattering view of the side of her face from the bottom up, which made me feel better.

Yeah, you're right, I cooed. It's me. But you can't tell anyone. We'll all be in a loooot of trouble with Heaven if you do.

At that, she giggled. She actually giggled. "Oh, you silly thing, you don't have to worry about that! You won't get me in trouble with Heaven! Have you forgotten who my patron is?"

(I was pretty sure she'd never actually told me.)

Have you forgotten who mine was?

"No, but the Kitchen God isn't like that. He isn't nearly powerful enough to mess around with Earthly politics in such a major way as You Know Who. Let alone Heavenly politics!"

That doesn't mean politics won't mess around with him! You're being too naïve about this! You're going to get eaten alive!

As I lectured her, I felt as if we were back in the City of Dawn Song, just after she arrived, newly awakened, from the countryside. She'd been another baby spirit gawking with wide-eyed innocence at the sights and at me – the thousand-year-old nine-tailed fox spirit who had deigned to take her under my (at-the-time-metaphorical) wing – with awe and worship.

Until court politics had turned her head. Until Aurelia had turned her head.

"Me – naïve? I'm six hundred and six years old, I'll have you know! Stop treating me like a baby!"

Anthea's lips pushed out into a fake, cutesy pout that was entirely at odds with our life-and-death-and-reincarnation-as-a-tapeworm situation. She looked more ready to simper at a rich old geezer until he petted her on the head and handed her a really big hunk of jade.

Keep your voice down!

"I am!"

Am not! (Wait, that grammar wasn't right, was it?) You are not! Keeping your voice down, I mean.

"Well, neither are you! And if you're here to scold me, then I'm going back to sleep." And she flopped over onto her side (the opposite side from me – good, she didn't want to crush me) and closed her eyes.