Page 112 of The Cinders
He was out in the open, staring up at a night sky smeared with dark patches that hid the stars.Lim shifted his hands, testing that his limbs were all working, and found he lay upon a hard bed of coarse straw.
He might have thought the entire event in the workshop a terrible dream if not for how his breath rasped, and his eyes still stung from the assault of the smoke.
Wherever he was, he was free.
A shadow — a darkness deeper than the evening — spread over him, and he turned his head towards it.The fox stood beside him, pink tongue peeking between its sharp teeth, white chest shifting with rapid pants, and amber eyes lit as though the fire still burned nearby.The animal’s size shocked him anew—ten times the size a fox should be.Unsteady on its feet, the creature lowered its head, touching its nose to Lim’s cheek; hot breath sending gooseflesh rising on his arms.
Lim recalled his thoughts before he’d been knocked senseless.Wild, impossible thoughts, he should name himself a madman for.But he’d seen too much of the impossible now not to dare believe.
‘Xian?’
Those scars…those elegant movements…the hair…the prince’s tale of his true spirit.
A shiver ran through the animal, its massive tail flicking from side to side.It regarded him with amber eyes that defied the nighttime.
‘Is it you?’
The black nose quivered, and a guttural noise parted its jaws.A violent spasm gripped the powerful body, enough to cause the fox’s legs to buckle beneath it.The collapse was silent and graceful, but distress showed in the whites of its eyes, spittle foaming at its mouth.Strangled, harrowing groans slipped over its lolling tongue.
‘Easy now,’ Lim cried.‘Steady.’
He sat up, pieces of his charred jacket falling away, and dragged himself closer to the witless creature.Uncertain of what he intended to do.Knowing only that he must do something.
One bright amber eye was upon him, fixed on his face, no matter how the fox’s body contorted with its affliction.The wondrous black tail thrashed, and its black-socked legs struck out as though it sought to run, claws catching at the straw, tearing it asunder: exposing a stone floor beneath the coarse covering.
Lim shifted himself out of reach of the extended claws—black as obsidian and curved like a farmer’s sickle—and crawled around behind the ailing creature.One amber eye watched him, even as the fox’s head was wrenched back with the power of the spasms.
Whispering quiet words of encouragement, Lim laid his hand against the fox’s shoulder; against the roughness of scars and velvet softness of fur.
Another terrible seizure ran through the animal, and for the first time the fox’s gaze shifted from him.The beast fell still.A perfect motionlessness.
‘No…no, don’t you dare.Don’t you dare.Do you hear me?’
Lim shoved at the fox’s back.Not even a whimper came from it now.He shoved again, drawing strength from somewhere in the depths of exhausted muscles.But his attempt barely rocked the dense weight of the animal.The black tail, tangled with straw, lay unmoving, whilst amber eyes were hidden behind lowered lids, and the animal’s tongue hung between its teeth; drool wetting the stone.
Lim stared at the scars that lay on its chest, searching for signs the animal yet breathed.He found a horrifying stillness.
‘Come on, that’s enough.’He stopped short of saying Xian’s name.If this animal were dead, he’d not believe the prince had died with it.
Lim poked the fox in its snout, jabbing at the lip, peeling it back, exposing the yellow-whiteness of canine teeth.If anything would rouse a predator, it would be a stab in the mouth.
‘Stop with this pathetic show,’ he shouted.‘And wake up, right now, or I’ll use your pelt to decorate a hundred shoes!’
The fox’s ears flicked forward, and its damp coal-black nose twitched.
Lim threw himself back, landing on his arse, instantly regretting his threat.If he were bitten, it would be his own damned fault.
The russet coat twitched, like the shiver of a horse’s skin against the March flies.
Lim scampered away—backwards on his hands and feet—like some crazed crab.
The fox’s eyes remained closed, but its legs moved again; loping strides as though it dreamt of running.Shiver after shiver ran beneath its fur; taunt movements of flesh growing stronger with each wave.A low hum came from the animal, something between a growl and a moan, but stretched out long and thin.
Lim collided with something solid—a crate or box or bench he couldn’t say which—but he welcomed its aid in bracing him as he sought to drag himself to his feet; the rough scratch of rope stinging his palms.
He stared at the creature, at the quickening of its shivering, until his eyes could no longer focus on the rapid movement.The fox appeared as nothing more than a blur; cloud white mixed with hot coals and charcoal.
The humming pitched high in tone, like the swarm of angry wasps, and the shivering of the animal seemed to have infected the stones; finding its way to where Lim stood, and spreading up through his legs.