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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE The Nine-Tailed Fox

The next case bore a similarity to the sylph case in the sense that it involved a seduction that may have been technically consensual, but on closer examination raised the specter of magical manipulation.

“Manipulation” was one of the words that stood out in the Bureau’s mission statement.

The Bureau doesn’t just frown upon magic kind using their gifts or skills to manipulate each other.

BOBO abhors the practice and, in a perfect world, would like to see it stamped out.

I’d heard several cases that morning before the sylph came before me.

I then had a lobster roll lunch, a bathroom break, and was preparing for a long afternoon with an ice-cold twenty-ounce Red Bull hidden in an Eagles Hell Freezes Over koozie.

In my experience, after-lunch drowsiness can’t compete.

Once I was settled in, Hengest called the parties forward in his usual clear, authoritative voice. “House of Howland Horne Lady in Waiting, Drexella Hogsworth versus Nine-Tail Fox, Kang Wei Zhao.”

It appeared that Braes Brightgen would represent the “fox” while Blythe Merriwether stood at the plaintiff’s table beside Drexella Hogsworth.

Braes Brightgen had first appeared in my court to speak for a fae farmer who’d directed his magic geese to circle his neighbor’s farm every night at dinnertime and honk loud enough to make a peaceful meal impossible.

It had been one of those cases that appeared to be a “no-brainer” at first glance, but was counterintuitive.

The facts, once presented, led to the opposite conclusion.

I’d been impressed enough with the way the gregarious Scot had conducted himself on his first court outing that I recalled important aspects of the case. His enthusiasm didn’t seem to have waned in the least in the months since I’d last seen him.

“Counselor Merriwether,” I said.

She stood and replied. “Yes, Magistrate.”

“It’s nice to see you. You’re here on behalf of the plaintiff.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

She was the vision of a young, Victoria professional. Or she would’ve been if there had been such a thing as a young professional woman in the Victorian era. At that time, the only woman holding a position of power of influence was the queen herself.

Blythe Merriwether looked prim and proper in her white starched blouse with exaggerated collar.

A large, eye-catching brooch resplendent with rubies was fastened at her neck.

Her floor-length navy skirts accentuated her tiny waist and struck just the right amount of contrast with the highly polished flat-heeled boots she wore underneath.

But by far, her most outstanding feature was the unmistakable look of intelligence shining through eyes so black her pupils disappeared into the darkness.

“According to my tradition, I’ll ask you to speak first. Spell out the facts of the case from your client’s point of view and name your remedy for damages.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” she said. “A little over a year ago, my client had gone to the countryside for the annual blackberry gathering festival. “She met Kang Wei Zhao when he appeared to her in a forest clearing. What followed was a romantic encounter that resulted in pregnancy and, in due time, the birth of a daughter who looks remarkably like the defendant. She’s suing for joint custody.”

Joint custody?

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m a little confused. Does the defendant have custody of the child now?”

“No, Your Honor,” said Ms. Merriwether. “My client is suing to compel the defendant to accept joint custody.”

“I see,” I said, although I didn’t. At least not at that time. “Thank you, Counselor. You may sit.” I turned to the defendant’s table. “Counselor Brightgen.”

“Yes, Magistrate.” He stood, buttoning the jacket that topped his kilt.

“Nice to see you again, as well. Would you be so kind as to acquaint the court with the broad strokes of your client’s response?”

“Of course, Your Honor. As was said earlier, my client, Kang Wei Zhao, is a nine-tailed fox, here in Britain on holiday. He does not deny that he had a relationship with the plaintiff. Nor does he deny that the child is his. He does not wish to accept partial custody, partly because of the impracticality of sharing responsibility for the upbringing of a demigoddess when her parents live a world away from each other.”

“So, there’s no question of paternity,” I said in review.

Both attorneys shook their heads and indicated negative responses verbally as well.

I looked at the plaintiff. “Mr. Zhao,” I began.

He shook his head. “Why are you shaking your head, sir?” He looked at Brightgen.

“You may stand and answer for yourself since the court is addressing you directly.”

He stood and said, “It’s Mr. Kang.”

“Ah,” I said. “Very well. Mr. Kang, your attorney says you are here on holiday.”

“Yes.” Brightgen leaned over and whispered something. “Yes, Your Honor.” He said with no trace of foreign accent before smiling a disarming smile that suggested a sly personality. I was thinking buyers should beware should he decide to take up sales as an occupation.

Mr. Kang had pale green irises that might take on amber hues in certain light or at certain angles.

In biped form, his eyes had a slight suggestion of almond shape, but were rounded with double lids so that his enigmatic looks could easily pass for Caucasian.

His hair was thick and luxurious, the shade resembling a maple leaf in autumn sun.

It was striking and unusual. So much so that everyone who saw him assumed it was artificial.

They were wrong. The color of his hair was the same as his fur.

After surviving for a thousand years, the fox, Kang Wei Zhao, had become a forest deity capable of creating illusions, manipulating dreams, casting powerful spells, and transforming into a beautiful biped and seductive enough to lure and enchant any woman of choice.

After another thousand years, he’d become bored with divine pastimes such as eavesdropping on people camping, hiking, or simply visiting vistas far from cities.

After listening to the conversations of many hundreds of people, most of which were mind-numbingly tiresome, he’d distilled what had been gained down to a few items on a list. If he was human, it might’ve been called a bucket list. But since he was neither human nor mortal, there would be no bucket kicking in his future.

One of the items on his list was a trip to Europe that would begin in a part of the human dimension known as the United Kingdom.

Disguising himself as a tourist was child’s play for one as clever as he.

After choosing a luxury, all-expenses prepaid, Mandarin-speaking tour company, he cast a spell that put him on the list with first-class air as an add-on option.

The first week was amusing enough, like a whirlwind of different experiences. But after a week, he found he needed a respite from being overwhelmed by different food, landscapes, language, and overall culture. On top of that, maintaining biped form takes more energy.

He left the tour when they stopped near Kielder Forest, Northumberland.

He headed straight for the wildlife preserve and changed into his fox form, feeling all the built up tension melt away.

He was trotting happily along, allowing his whiskers to be tickled by an occasional fern, when he sensed an entrance to faerie in the trunk of an ancient tree.

A mischievous smile spread across his fox face as he began to anticipate the adventure and change of scenery he’d come for.

When he presented himself, the tree recognized him as magic kind and opened the portal.

The tree, having been assigned sentry duty, did not screen visitors.

Nor did it discriminate. There were no gray areas.

No right and wrong. It simply opened and closed.

He enjoyed a couple of days of faerie hospitality before coming across fae females busy picking blackberries. He spied one who’d wandered away from the others looking for a clearing that allowed enough sun for fat, juicy, shiny berries with a delectably sweet taste.

The fae in question was a pale blonde with sky-blue eyes and an hourglass figure. All traits that were exotic to Kang Wei Zhao. She was wearing red leather gloves to protect her hands from thorns and humming to herself.

Kang changed into biped form before she saw him.

“Good afternoon,” said the fox. “Are you lost?”

After spending several days in England, he was able to mimic the accent so that she’d never guess he wasn’t local.

“No,” she said before looking up. “Are you?”

“Well,” said he. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

Once she’d raised her eyes to meet his, she found it impossible to look away. He was too beautiful to be real and, for a time, appeared to have robbed her of the ability to think.

At length she recovered her wits enough to reply. “Oh. Well. Would you like me to show you the way to the road?”

The fox looked in the direction she’d pointed. “Maybe. Where does the road go?”

“To the town, silly.” She giggled. “Would you like a blackberry?” She picked one of the biggest from her basket and held it up.

The skin crinkled just enough around his eyes when he smiled to make her want to reach out and touch his face. “I would. What is your name?”

“Drexella Hogsworth.” She stared at his lips as they pulled into a delectable smile.

“Put it on my tongue, Drexella Hogsworth.” He opened his mouth and waited.

She closed the distance between them and put the berry on his tongue. For a second, she thought his tongue might be unusually long, but almost as soon as the thought occurred to her, it dissolved like the residue of an unpleasant dream upon waking.

Kang chewed slowly, enjoying the fact that he could toy with the fae to his content.

“Do you live in the town?” he asked.

“I live in the castle where I’m lady-in-waiting to the queen.”