The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Like the properly traditional demons that they should no longer be, Sphaera and Steelfang had commandeered a cave for their headquarters. As a measure of how shaky their control over the Wilds was, a wolf sentry leaped out from behind a boulder to block the narrow trail that led up the mountain.

"Halt!" she barked. "State your name and business!" Her threatening attitude was spoiled slightly when the tip of one ear flopped down.

"I am the – " began the Dragon King of Sweet Lily Pond indignantly.

One Ear! I cried.

One Ear's two ears pulled back against her skull. "How do you know my name, fox?"

Because it's me, One Ear! Mindful of the dragon king next to me, I phrased my bona fides circumspectly. We traveled around the Jade Mountains and battled a joro spider demon together, remember?

"You fought a spider demon?" asked the dragon, awed.

And defeated it. I flicked my tail so all three of us – and any sentries hiding behind other boulders whom I couldn't see – could admire its fine fluffiness. The entire clan swore fealty to do us after we took it down.

"It most certainly did! It is you!" Tongue lolling out like a happy dog's, One Ear bounded up to me. "But I heard you were in NorCap advising the emperor! As a rat! How'd you end up here? And as a fox?"

Ignoring the dragon's puzzled "A rat? A fox?" I lifted my elegant muzzle. I take whatever form is necessary.

"I'll say! So I'm guessing you're here to see Her Majesty?" (Oh good, Sphaera hadn't started going by "Imperial Majesty" in my absence.) "And you're here to swear fealty?" One Ear looked the dragon up and down.

His lower lip pushed out. "I most certainly am not! I am the Dragon King of Sweet Lily Pond. I owe fealty to no one but the Dragon Commander."

His Majesty was kind enough to escort me here, I explained to One Ear.

"And now you're here, so I'll be off! Say hi to Den for me!" The little dragon hastily departed before anyone could coerce him into bending his knobbly knees to Sphaera.

"Dragons. So proud...and so fun to tease." One Ear winked one golden eye at me.

Now that the outsider was gone and I was among friends, I threw my forelegs around her neck. It's good to see you again.

Before I knew what was happening, she gave me a good lick. "Yep, good to see you too. Hey!" she called to no one that I could see. "Come stand guard for me!"

A serow spirit bounded down the mountainside as if it were flat ground.

New recruit? I asked as One Ear and I strolled up the trail.

"One of them. I defeated her in single combat."

Good for you! Then, because I couldn't help it, I squeaked and hopped. Aaah! A spider!

One Ear jumped so hard that her hind legs slipped off the trail. Her claws made horrendous screeches as she clawed her way back up. As for me, I fell over, holding my belly and laughing.

The wolf glared down at me. "That was not funny."

Oooh, oooh, but it was! It really was! You're still scared of spiders? Even after taking over the Jade Mountain Wilds and North Serica and however much of the Snowy Mountain Wilds you've pacified?

"Spiders," she declared with great dignity, "have too many legs. No living creature needs that many legs."

I don't know.... I pretended to ponder the issue. Just think how much less tasty an octopus or crab would be if it had fewer legs. Much less of it to eat.

"Then you could just eat more individual octopuses or crabs," she retorted. "Twice the number would do it."

No more than four legs per creature, huh?

"Absolutely not. When you take over Heaven, please issue a decree limiting the number of legs anything is allowed to have."

I will make a note of that, I promised with mock solemnity.

"Please do."

More wolf sentries stood guard at the cave entrance. I nodded to them graciously, acknowledging their existence, as we passed. They just looked confused.

"One Ear?" A familiar giant grey wolf padded down the tunnel towards us. "Why did you leave your post? What's this I'm hearing about an old fox ally?"

Steelfang! Hi! I waved but didn't move to hug him. He'd never seemed particularly cuddly to me, even if Cornelius disagreed. I'm back! How's 'Nelius?

Steelfang froze as suddenly as if Lord Magnissimus had breathed on him. "You? You're a fox again? But how?"

Because I was lucky enough to be assigned to the best star sprite clerk ever! That was why!

Because this is the form that best suits both my nature and my needs.

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If anything, Steelfang went even more still. "Ah. Is it time, then? To – " And he rolled his eyes Heavenward.

Absolutely not. We weren't even close to being ready to challenge all the gods and goddesses.

That depends, I told him. How goes the pacification of the Snowy Mountains?

His big, furry shoulders slumped. "Slowly. It's going slowly." The admission came out in a low rumble.

The Dragon King of Sweet Lily Pond had already said as much, but I'd still wanted to hear it from my general.

What is hampering your progress?

"I should let Her Majesty explain it to you. Back to your post, One Ear. I'll take it from here."

Dismissing her, Steelfang led me past another pair of wolves I recognized from his original clan and into a vast cavern. Little oil lamps set everywhere on the ground and tucked into crevices on the walls reminded me of the stars in Lady Fate's hall. They illuminated the glittering garden of stalagmites and the stalactites that hung overhead like Lord Magnissimus' icicles. The soft, shifting light obscured the stains and fraying fabric of the litter on which Sphaera reclined, still mimicking my pose from those long-ago paintings.

Her tails were probably going numb under her rump.

At the sight of me, she shot upright and her lips peeled back in a snarl. "Steelfang, what's this? A rival fox?"

He grinned toothily. "You might say so."

Steelfang, I chided him. What way is that to address your liege lady?

I didn't approach Sphaera, as that would highlight the size difference between us. (Not that physical size mattered, of course, but first impressions were always critical.) I sat down right in front of an oil lamp so that its flame cast my face into shadow and limned my fur red-gold.

Greetings, young fox. Have you completed the task I set you?

Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. In an instant, she was tumbling off her litter to prostrate herself on the rocky ground. A murmur ran around the cave as bemused courtiers followed suit.

"Great Lady!" Sphaera's voice was muffled, but her five tails waved in the air as if to mock me. No, no, it wasn't mockery. She was just too excited to flatten them properly. "Great Lady! You have returned to us!"

I kept my own, lone tail curled tidily around my legs so no one would feel tempted to compare our tails. It wasn't the number that mattered, but the quality, although you could never count on people to realize that.

Yes, Sphaera Algarum, I have returned. Now tell me, how goes your task?

One by one, her tails drooped. "I have endeavored to carry out my mission, Great Lady! I have pacified the Snowy Mountains all the way from where they join the Jade Mountains in the west to here!"

Even though I didn't know where "here" was precisely, it obviously wasn't "the Eastern Sea," which was the terminus of any full pacification.

In the same chiding tone I'd used on Steelfang earlier, I inquired, And how long do you anticipate it will take to claim the Wilds all the way to the sea?

Her tails flopped limply like five overgrown silkworms. "I am not positive, Great Lady.... But not long! We'll be done in no time!"

Tellingly, Steelfang didn't second that assessment.

I sighed inwardly. That was probably enough of overawing the foxling. I wasn't going to get much use out of her if she were so anxious to say what I wanted to hear – or what she thought I wanted to hear – that she coated all her reports with sugary, cream-cheese frosting.

And, I grudgingly admitted to myself, it wasn't really her fault that she had five tails while I only had one.

Forcing warmth into my voice, I said, At ease, all of you. There's no need for such formality amongst friends.

Relieved sighs filled the cave. Out of the corners of my eyes, I watched Sphaera's couriers peel themselves off the hard, cold, rocky ground. She herself rose with all the grace of a fox spirit and sank back into her litter. Drawing courage from its familiar cushions, she actually met my eyes for a second before dropping her gaze to her hands.

Clear the room so I may speak freely to you and Steelfang, I ordered.

Even before Sphaera opened her mouth to re-issue the command, her courtiers were moving. Good.

Once the three of us were alone, I asked again, Now, tell me honestly: How long do you think it'll take to finish conquering the Wilds?

This time, Sphaera slanted a glance at Steelfang. "A while," he answered bluntly. "We've already taken all the fiefs that are easy to conquer. What's left are the high mountain peaks and the demons who are too powerful to fear our numbers. We can wear them down eventually, but it'll take time. And money. Our troops do expect to be paid."

Ah, money, or the lack thereof. The bane of military strategists in every place and age.

I couldn't help but recall the rage in South Serica at the decades of war against the Wilds. Instead of being satisfied with the land she did control, Jullia had insisted stubbornly, lethally, and, in the end, very nearly suicidally on throwing troops and money at the Wilds until she drained her own kingdom. At what point did you call it quits? At what point did you say, "My domain is big enough? It's all right if I don't reclaim all the lands of my ancestors?"

For Jullia, the answer had been: "When the mob murders me and pries my cold, dead corpse off my throne." But she wasn't exactly a paragon of enlightened governance, was she?

I'd promised to put back together the Empire I'd torn asunder – but even at its height, it had never ruled the Wilds. I'd never sworn to make the Empire bigger or better than it had been, only to make it exist so I could hand it over to the man who was Fated to rule it.

How pacified are the pacified parts? I asked, trying to think. If we stopped here, would the current borders hold?

Steelfang's bark of laughter answered that question better than Sphaera's wary, "It would depend on the inducements we offer to the locals."

Meaning a combination of bribes and violence, both of which were expensive. Stripey would shake his head over the account books. Bobo would look sadly at the slums. She and Lodia wanted to create a better Empire than the last.

I see. For now, let us keep the borders where they are.

"What?" cried the foxling. I thought she'd be ecstatic that I was declaring her task complete, but she begged, "Don't give up on me! Give me another chance! We're so close to the Eastern Sea! We'll get there, I promise!"

It's not that, Sphaera, I said, hanging on to my patience by the tips of my claws. How could she not see after a year what I'd grasped within the first minute? It's not that, young Sphaera. I'm not giving up on you at all. I'm simply assessing the available information and realigning our priorities. The land mass of the Empire is big enough. Let us now turn our attention to improving it.

She wavered, probably expecting me to appoint someone else to finish the job and steal all the credit. How to convince her?

Do you still have that notebook where you were taking notes on my lessons?

"I do! I do! I've been compiling them into a book. I call it Piri's Pearls of Wisdom. But we can change the title if you don't like it!"

Piri's Pearls of Wisdom? I liked the ring of it.

That is a fine title, but I'd like you to add a lesson to it – one that is particularly important for us foxes to keep in mind.

"Oh! Yes, yes! Rosefinches!" she called, before she remembered that I'd sent everyone away. "Uh, am I allowed to summon my handmaidens to record your words, Great Lady?"

I inclined my head. Of course. Perhaps they, too, may benefit from this knowledge.

Once the rosefinches were ready, with one holding a scroll in her claws and another a brush in her beak, and the other courtiers were peeking in and speculating over the lesson I was about to impart, I cleared my throat.

It is a simple message on its surface, but do not disdain it, for it takes centuries to master.

"Yes, yes, Great Lady!" cried the foxling. "I would never disdain anything you teach me!"

Then here is the hardest lesson in existence: You cannot have it all.