Kitsune: A Little Mermaid Retelling

Chapter Nine

Could the witch have given me a more difficult task? I simply have to break their treaty, without magic and without a way to talk to people. It's as if she set me up to fail. Rin tossed a few pebbles into the well. The water rippled, spreading outward. I could do with a bit of chaos. That's what Kitsune are best at anyway. She did not move right away and stood staring at the water's surface. Why did Hikaru have to be such a bore? I liked him; I thought he might help me in my plot. He seemed discontent when we spoke with his father. But failing him, Hotaru would suit. She sighed. But then again, he knows I am a spy—or at least he suspects.

She walked down the stairs away from the well. The maid, Yuri, who had been assigned to Rin's care, stood a few feet away. She trembled whenever Rin looked in her direction. And right now she was shaking. Rin pursed her lips. I'd rather be alone. It makes spying easier if she is not hovering over me.

The garden where Rin had been lingering most of the morning was at the center of the palace. Hallways radiated out from it; she had watched as minor clansmen bustled about. They all quickened their pace when they came close to her. They all feared her, she suspected. Which was almost laughable, she could do nothing to them in this form. After a careful study of the landscape, it seemed the most traffic went down the center hallway. She brushed past the handmaiden and went towards the hall.

"My lady, you cannot go that way," Yuri said, her voice as tiny as a mouse.

Rin gave her the most imperious look she could manage. The girl took a step back. Rin shook her head and walked in that direction. The young woman ran in front of her.

"That area is forbidden to women. It is a man's place," she said. Her bottom lip quivered. It would not be hard to knock the girl over and go anyway. But Rin knew she would not get far. The humans loved their rules and ceremony.

Rin bowed, pretending to be the obedient lady. But the young girl only scrunched her nose in confusion. The bowing seemed important to the humans, but she could not get the timing right. Rin turned to head towards her chamber, Yuri trailing after her. Back at her chamber, Rin pointed to the veranda that overlooked her private garden and with a slashing motion indicated the handmaiden should leave.

"Will you be needing anything?" Yuri asked.

Rin replied with a quick shake of her head. The girl all but ran from the room. She waited, listening to the sound of her receding footsteps, and when she was sure she was gone, she smiled to herself.

Rin shed her outer robes, down to the shift beneath. The copious layers of silk the humans favored kept her from moving freely. She wriggled her toes free of the socks the handmaiden had insisted she wear. She could feel the air against her skin, and she peeled the fabric from her sweaty skin. Standing in the center of the symmetrical, orderly garden, she longed for the forest, the open places, and the disorganized beauty of the wild. She wished she had her proper sense of smell and all the other little things she had taken for granted before. All these humans said one thing and their body language indicated another. Take Hikaru and his brother, though they used polite words with one another, the air practically crackled between them. I think I have something there, if I can use their animosity for my own devices.

At the opposite end of the garden a vine grew up the wall nearly to the roof. Rin stood at the base of the plant and looked up. She flexed her fingers and then tugged on the vines, testing their hold on the trellis. When she was certain they would hold, she proceeded to climb up. At the top the vines were thinner and they pulled away from the wall. One broke loose and she leaned backwards, the ground spinning beneath her. Blindly, she swung her arm out to grab at the edge of the roof. With the tips of her fingers, she clawed her way up onto the top of the roof. She lay face down on the warm tiles for a moment as she panted. I do not have the same strength in this form. I must remember that. One misstep and I will snap my neck.